When Penny arrived at the boy's usual table in the Cheesecake Factory restaurant, they were locked within another one of their usual geeky earth-shattering important debates that they frequently found themselves in before she took their order.
"Why wouldn't like Italian food?" Raj was asking, as she arrived.
"Don't be obtuse, Raj!" Sheldon berated. "Italian food is loaded with meaty chunks of pepperoni and prosciutto! To say nothing of their spicy, meaty tomato sauce."
"Not all of it!" Leonard countered, adding, "Lasagna can be made without ground beef! Just ricotta cheese and mushrooms, for example."
"Then it's hardly a lasagna, is it?" Sheldon challenged. "Even the so-called 'seafood lasagna' is a lame rip-off, possessing neither the tang of tomato sauce, nor the satisfying bits of ground beef that make up the finer ingredients of lasagna."
"Hi, guys! What'll it be? Maybe some earth-made lasagna?" Penny asked cheerfully, trying to get the guy's minds back on track, namely eating in a restaurant instead of debating.
Raj would not be deterred, however. "But what about spaghetti? Vegetarians like the Vulcans could eat pasta like that! And that could have mushrooms, too!"
"What is it with you and mushrooms?" Howard asked suspiciously. "You been growing some 'special' ones in your lab?"
"Seriously, can you picture a refined officer like eating spaghetti with a fork, and twirling it into a ball with a spoon, gulping back the mouthful, and then slurping back that lone noodle at the end of the forkful?" Sheldon berated. "He's only interested in vegetables and fruit."
"The question is, would he slurp his fruit, too?" Leonard asked, adding, "I've yet to meet anyone that doesn't slurp watermelon!"
"Kirk wanted him to eat Italian in 'Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home'!" Raj insisted. "That whole scene of 'Do you guys like Italian?' 'Yes' 'No' 'Yes' 'No' 'Yes' 'No' Yes. I love Italian. And so do you'. 'Yes'. Kirk wouldn't expect Spock to eat something offensive to him, just to maintain their cover as a pair of eccentric visitors that want to take 's whales away with them."
"Yeah, okay. Anybody want tonight's special?" Penny wondered. "F.Y.I., it's not lasagna!"
"Oh, Raj, that proves nothing other than Spock didn't want to partake in any Italian food!" Sheldon insisted.
"If that's so, then why did he tell Spock that he, Spock, liked Italian food, ending the conversation?" Leonard asked.
"Spock was only all-too-aware that Kirk wanted to get into Taylor's pants!"
"Yepper, the special for tonight is Plomeek Soup! I hear it's all the rage amongst our pointy-eared clientele!" Penny giggled, hoping that somebody would notice her knowledge of a Vulcan delicacy from 'Star Trek'.
It didn't happen.
"And might I point out, gentlemen, that in the end, Spock was driven back to the cloaked Bird-of-Prey, and spared the indignity of partaking in 's choice of a large mushroom, pepperoni, with extra onions and Michelob."
"Maybe you guys'll wanta wash it down with some Saurian Brandy? It's been aged since to the Middle Ages!"
"Who says he would have had the same pizza?" Howard challenged. "They do have vegetarian pizzas, you know!"
"Ah, but the noxious aroma of all that meat and meat sauce would have been to uncomfortable for him!" Sheldon explained. "To say nothing of the putrid aroma of all that beer guzzling and rampant belching!"
"Ya know, my boss wants all of us waitresses to go topless from now on!"
"Well, he could have had a non-alcoholic beer!" Leonard smiled.
"Now you're all just being silly! Spock's mind was still adapting to what he used to be, prior to his tragic non-death in 'Star Trek II - The Wrath Of Khan', but he most certainly wouldn't have ventured so far out of character!"
"Why not? They had him say 'damn' and 'hell'?" Leonard noted.
"Ooh-kay, fine, maybe I'll let you brainiacs check out the menus on your Facebook pages or something. I'll be right back-WHOOULP!"
Penny turned away from her friends, only to find herself face to face with her co-worker, Mona, who very nearly spilled her tray with two bowls of soup on Sheldon. Fortunately, Sheldon was ready for the accident, and with superhuman speed he leaped out of his chair, allowing Leonard to be doused with the broth and vegetables.
His quick reflexes would create a new problem, however.
Seeing everything in slow motion, Sheldon nearly fell over a middle-aged woman raising her glass of wine not to her lips but towards him, thanks to her surprise, so he spun on one heel, and twisted around in a pirouette like Spider-Man being assaulted by the Green Goblin's razor-sharp projectiles. This brought him even further away from his table, and nearly onto the lap of a fat old man raising a very large hunk of cheesecake to his mouth. Unfortunately, like the lady before him, Sheldon's sudden appearance threatened to make the forkful of cheesecake zig when it should zag. Threatened once more with staining his favorite superhero t-shirt, namely the red one with the Flash's lightning bolt emblem on it, Sheldon rolled into a ball and threw himself under an empty table.
Which was empty for 2.47 seconds, and then the legs of some customers appeared from beneath the tablecloth.
Sheldon once again used his momentum to roll away, this time off to one side across his shoulders, and somehow back to his feet where he landed in a superhero / action pose, much to the surprise of everyone present.
All this took place in less than 7 seconds, and yet all of it was missed by Howard, who had focused his full attention on Penny and Mona.
"AAAHH! They kissed when they bumped into each other! I saw it, I saw it! Their faces shmushed into each other's! Do it again, do it again!" Howard cried out, wide-eyed.
Leonard and Raj, meanwhile were shocked to see how much effort Sheldon had put into avoiding getting a drop of any food on his t-shirt.
Then they watched as a tidal wave of water splashed through an open window, drenching Sheldon in dirty rain water as a truck zoomed by.
Sheldon was mortified and incredulous, standing there drenched and muddy, despite his superhuman efforts.
Mona looked at Penny, and smacked her head saying, "Oooooh! So that's why you wanted me to close the window!"
The incident at the Cheesecake Factory had seemed minor to Leonard, but as the days wore on Sheldon became more and more distant- stranger, if that was possible. He had no interest in watching a DVD of 'Firefly', and he abruptly cancelled 'Halo' night with the guys, staying in his room for the better part of the weekend. Even the offer of his favorite Won Ton Soup, brought to him by Penny, was rudely rejected, somehow flying out the door, and once again drenching Leonard with its contents, for a second soup incident in barely three days.
The last straw was when Leonard was informed by the cable company, the phone company, and their Internet provider that all the accounts had been cancelled...by Sheldon. and without permission, so this required immediate action. Finding Sheldon slouched on his side of the couch, donning a rumpled 'Space Invaders' t-shirt, staring off into space, despite the TV blaring to no one with a day-long marathon of 'Oprah', (Sheldon's mortal enemy) Leonard stood before him, and looked down at him, trying to act tough.
"Sheldon. You changed our phone and cable and Internet service. Why?"
"'Changed the service'...?" Sheldon asked, nearly groggy, the words making little sense.
"Actually, cancelled it! Do you deny it?"
"No, no, by no means, Leonard. It is quite possible."
"Then why'd you do it?"
"Leonard, I accept on your word that I did it. I don't know why nor do I remember doing it." The distracted expression suddenly shifted to one of wide-eyed pleading. "Leonard...lock me away! I do not wish to be seen. I cannot- no Cooper could explain further!"
"I'm trying to help you, Sheldon."
"Ask me no further questions I will not answer!"
"I order you to Wolowitz's."
"Wolowitz's?"
"Complete examination. Howard's waiting."
"He's not a doctor! He doesn't even have a Favorite Doctor from 'Doctror Who'!"
"Yeah, but he's the only one of us that's read medical journals on the Internet. And besides, he's Jewish and they usually make good doctors."
"I protest!"
"Too bad! Get going!"
Sheldon stood up, ready to argue some more, but too weak from his own problems, he grudgingly shuffled towards the front door of the apartment, then looked back. Leonard opened the door and shoved him out through it, and frowned deeply.
"He must be pretty messed up- he's never lasted more than 4 minutes with Oprah on the TV!"
"Oh, come in, Sheldon, I'm all ready for you."
Arriving at Howard's house, and entering his semi-friend's room, he was disconcerted to see several items laid out in anticipation of being used- a thermometer, a stethoscope, a blood pressure machine, various surgical-type knives and rubber gloves- even a surgeon's mask. Most disconcerting was the endless loop of the theme music and opening credits of the TV series 'E.R.' playing on a laptop in the background.
"My orders were to report to your place...I have done so. And now I'll go to my quarters. I mean, my room back at my apartment. Or the Arby's across the street, I haven't decided yet. Might just get a beef n' cheddar..."
Howard grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving, saying, "My orders were to give you a thorough physical. In case you haven't noticed, I have to answer to the same friend as you do. Come on, Sheldon. Yield to the logic of the situation."
"What logic?"
"The logic that states that if you don't do what Leonard told you to do, I have permission to stick this thermometer into any orifice I choose, after I've tackled you from behind!"
Sheldon paused, pictured the unfortunate action in his mind then nodded once. "Very well. Examine me. For all the good that it'll do either of us."
"Great!"
"And you're buying me a beef n' cheddar when this is over!"
Sheldon and Howard returned to the apartment that Sheldon and Leonard shared, with Wolowitz sending the tall geek to his room so he could speak to his friend in private. His demeanor changed dramatically from one of casual, jovial calm, to one of wide-eyed urgency, where he lunged at Leonard, grabbing him by his shoulders.
"Leonard you've got to get Sheldon to a science fiction convention!"
"Howard, I will, I will, as soon as this seminar paper of mine is-"
"No! Right away! You don't get him to a sci-fi con in a week, eight days on the outside, he'll die! He'll die, Leonard!"
Leonard stared at him, dumbfounded and nearly speechless. "Aren't you being a bit mellow dramatic?"
"Maybe," Wolowitz chuckled, sheepishly, releasing his grip on Leonard's arms and brushing them off.
"I figured. But, why must he die within 8 days, explain?"
"I don't know."
"You...keep saying that! Are you a doctor or aren't you?"
"I'm not. I'm an engineer, remember? You talked me into this! Even though my mother wanted me to be a- that's neither here nor there! Look, there's a growing imbalance of bodily functions in him. As if in our bodies huge amounts of adrenaline are constantly being pumped into our bloodstreams. Now I can't trace it in the Internet medical sites, Sheldon won't tell me what it is. But if it isn't stopped somehow, the physical and emotional pressures will simply kill him! Or he'll get even weirder!"
"Wait, a science fiction convention will cure him?" Leonard asked, incredulous.
Wolowitz shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Maybe. Sure as heck makes me feel great after I go to one!"
"That is true," Leonard nodded, smiling as he recalled some of the ones he'd been to, then his face became serious as he got his mind back on track. "You say you're convinced he knows what it is?"
"He does. And he's as tight-lipped about it as an Aldebaran Shell-Mouth." Howard added, "There's no use asking him, Leonard, he won't talk."
Leonard started to leave the room, but suddenly stopped himself, his face bunched up in confusion. "Does this...does this whole conversation seem familiar to you?"
Howard shrugged, and answered, "No."
Leonard shook his head and left for Sheldon's room, as Howard went back home, his mind back on track with more important things, namely scoring a date with that cashier at Wegmen's. She'd turned him down a couple times, so he figured Ninth Time's The Charm. Ordinarily, Sheldon abhorred allowing anyone inside his room, although there were previsions within the Roommate Agreement that allowed it, i.e. Section 5, Paragraph 12, which involved zombie infestation. If they reached the second floor of their apartment building stairwell, even Wolowitz was allowed in his room (after a quick blood test to prove he wasn't a zombie).
He knocked on Sheldon's door, tempted to copy Sheldon's habit of three knocks and calling out his name, and repeating it two more times as Sheldon always did when he visited someone, but he restrained himself. Sheldon appeared, but he certainly seemed embarrassed or under the weather, and strangely enough, he wasn't wearing a shirt, which was very out of character. Thursdays were usually reserved for Rubik's Cube t-shirt.
"Howard told me that you would d-, well, that is, he says you're under the weather. Wanna talk about it?"
"No," Sheldon pouted, morosely.
"Look, you've been called the Best Mind at the University. That's an enormous asset to me."
"How?"
Caught off guard, Leonard smirked and shrugged his shoulders admitting, "Well, I thought it might make me popular, but that's neither here no there. Sheldon...I'm asking you as a friend...what's wrong?"
Sheldon paused, his eyes twitched, and he mumbled, "It has to do with..."
"So help me if you say it has to do with 'biology' I'm going to get really freaked out!" Leonard interrupted, feeling this whole incident was somehow too familiar.
"Certainly not!" Sheldon snapped, coming to life. "Why would you think such a thing?"
"It...doesn't matter. So what's up?"
"Just a moment," Sheldon said, closing the door. Leonard sighed, thinking he'd lost him, until his friend opened the door again, and appeared, now donning a plain white t-shirt, as one hand held out an pink-orange colored wrinkled garment. As if that explained everything, Sheldon didn't say anything. Noting the confusion on Leonard's face (an expression he was all too familiar with, sadly), he elaborated by hanging the garment by both hands, displaying it for his friend to see.
"Right. Your Flash t-shirt. So?"
"So? SO? SSOOOOO?"
"I-"
"Leonard, take a closer look at my Absolute Favorite, Number One, Prime Piece of Clothing!"
He did so, and could only offer, "It's wrinkly as hell. What'd you do? Leave it in the University's centrifuge by mistake?"
"If only! It might have suffered a much less indignation if I had done so! No, it was accidentally left behind downstairs in a washing machine, and clearly washed over and over and over, instead of being removed and left for me to recover! And now...look at him! The color has been mercilessly bleached out! The once proud red hues of the Scarlet Speedster, have been assaulted and besmirched by multiple noxious detergents and bleaches and reduced to this sickly, effeminate orange/pink color that Penny has identified as..." he said, halting to choke down a tear, making his eyes twitch and blink, and croak out, "...peach!"
Leonard looked closer at the ex-t-shirt, and nodded, saying, "Oh, yeaaa! She's right! She's got a matching pair of bra and panties that are the same color!"
Sheldon dropped the bleached-out t-shirt and rolled it into a ball, clutching it close to his chest as if to protect it from the comparison. "So it's true! It's true! The Flash t-shirt is no more! It's not just my imagination!"
"Not this time, buddy. I gotta admit, it's kinda the wrong shade of red."
"'Kinda'? 'Kinda'?" Sheldon mocked, indignant. "The Titanic sinking was 'kinda' like losing a toy boat in a bathtub! The eruption of Krakatoa was 'kinda' inconvenient for the island natives that lived in the neighborhood! This is a cataclysmic disaster of epic proportions! My one and only official DC Comics-endorsed Flash t-shirt with precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision engineered, perfectly rendered white circle has been obliterated by the rank and file that employ our marginally-effective washing machines in the laundry room! Even the lightning bolt portion of the Flash's emblem, once so proud and brilliantly effective in its display of Garment Yellow Shade Number 404-XR, (and yes, I checked the distributors about that fact), with the sharpest points on any lightning bolt that I've ever admired, is ruined, Leonard! Ruined, I tell you! And you say it's 'kinda' the wrong shade? Where has the humanity gone in this world?"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Are you going to buy another one?"
Sheldon beheld his friend with wide-eyed pity and loathing, and sighed in exasperation, saying, "How in the world can I do that? They're no longer produced! The licence expired 4 years, 7 months, 3 days, and 14 hours ago!"
"That's a drag."
"The best I can hope for is some lame duck, low-level, cheap rendition sewn by some cherubic Chinese lady in the Philippines, and passed off as 'authentic' at some out of the way Walmart in Bismarck, North Dakota! To that I say, 'No-thank-you!'"
"Have you checked e-bay?"
Sheldon looked horrified. "The mere thought that my skin could come in contact with that of a, to quote the Ninth Doctor, 'stupid ape', is unimaginably repugnant to me, Leonard! I could only ever wear something that's never been worn before."
"Oh."
"Besides the little jerk in Baltimore wanted $500 for his!"
Leonard tried to picture it, but shook his head to get his mind back on track, and recalled Howard's diagnosis, which strangely enough, might wind up being a type of cure.
"What about a science fiction convention? They have dealers at all of them, and frequently t-shirts are part of the memorabilia. Maybe one of them has an authentic Flash t-shirt like yours?"
"I don't know," Sheldon frowned.
"It's worth a try. Let's go on-line and see if here are any conventions happening nearby and in seven days, eight on the outside."
Sheldon watched Leonard leave, his face showing confusion. "Why seven days?"
"No reason. Blame 'Doctor' Wolowitz for that prognosis."
Sheldon followed him into the living room and the computers, mumbling to himself, "I can find lots to blame Wolowitz for given a half hour and Wikipedia!"
They sat down and got to work, using Leonard's laptop, which was fortunately not on the same cancelled plan as their apartment computer.
"Okay, here's one this weekend! LISCON 3! And it's taking place in Bakersfield!"
"You cannot be serious, Leonard! A 'Lost In Space' convention? One such as that would surely be 'Lost In Space' inclusive, with the Dealer's Room consisting of a pathetic trio of tables and grumpy parents trying to sell off their lazy son's collection of 'Lost In Space' comic books and ridiculously-plush stuffed Robot dolls! Next!"
"But it's just 112 miles away and it's this weekend, Sheldon!"
"It's Bakersfield, Leonard! Bakersfield!" he challenged. "Need I remind you of the Adam West Incident we shared there?"
Leonard shifted uncomfortably in his chair and hung his head. "Awright. It was a bad idea."
"It was a horrendous idea!" Sheldon corrected.
Leonard backed up and clicked on another convention happening the same weekend. "Okay, here we go, what about this? Filk-O-Rama 2011?"
"Surely you jest?" Sheldon asked, incredulously. "I neither filk nor do I folk! I don't even acknowledge the existence of those people that twist fandom's words into mind-numblingly silly folk songs!"
"But, look! They have Klingon filk singing, and Klingon karaoke! They've expanded to other genres, and maybe their Dealer's Room will have-"
"-fifth-rate cerloxed bound filk song books shoddily produced in their parent's garage, and fans looking for random bits of Medieval weapons and pottery to mix and match with no regard to their authentic dating! No-thank-you!"
Leonard shrugged. "Figures it's right downtown in Burbank. Oookay, looking, looking, searching...AH! What about...? Eh. It's this weekend, but it's in Phoenix. Next."
"No-no-no-no! Let's check this out!"
"In Phoenix? You'll have to add whatever travel costs to the price of your convention admission plus the price of the Flash t-shirt, provided we even find one!"
"Still, let me see. Hmm. Omega Odyssey Con-3, a celebration of everything sci-fi, anime, and...oh, filk! Forget it!"
"Just because of that? More filk song fans?"
"Not even the humorous anecdotes of their guests, Gil Gerard, Erin Gray, and Larry Grumble, a.k.a. Klingon Number 4 from the the 'Deep Space 9' episode, 'Soldiers Of The Empire', could overshadow the fact that I would be surrounded by those filking people! They're such...nerds!. Filk is supposedly folk music with a science fiction or fantasy theme, but I refute this, as I've previously been subjected to wretched renditions of filk included a fan's adoration of their nine cats and their Conmmodore 64 computers! I refuse to be found in the same room as those filking nuts! Hmm. I wonder what did in that 'DS9' episode? Oh, well."
"No good?"
Leonard shrank from the withering glare of Sheldon's emphatic 'no', and continued his search, coming upon another convention, one that was unfortunately even further from their home in Pasadena, California than Omega Odyssey Con-3...
...but without the '', as Sheldon called them.
As luck would have it, the other guys and even Penny offered to come along for the experience. Sheldon mistook it for concern for him but the truth was was that Howard was hoping to find a sufficiently loose and horny and single woman that would let him get to second base, Raj came along for the sheer enjoyment of the American custom of the science fiction convention...and a chance to speak to one of their guests, Nick Tate of the TV series, 'Space:1999', and hopefully a chance to enjoy a sci-fi con and not run into the infamous 'Gary', who had previously tricked him into thinking he was a Green Orion Slave Girl.
And Penny just wanted to avoid another shift with Mona at the Cheesecake Factory- that chick was sooo clumsy!
Luckily, she didn't feel so out of place wearing her normal colorful civilian clothing, but there were ample examples of fans that showed up in costume, not the least of which were Leonard as Captain James T. Kirk (full dress uniform with awards of valor pinned to his chest), Howard as Indiana Jones, and Raj as Quark from 'Star Trek - Deep Space Nine', complete with giant bulbous head and matching Frisbee-sized ears. Even his chaotic, mismatched colorful jacket and pants were meticulously chosen to display the infamous Ferengi lack of clothes sense. Of course, with big Ferengi ears, there came an ironic problem...
"What?" asked Raj.
"I said did you get a convention schedule?" Howard repeated.
- "What?"
"Did you...get a...convention schedule?" Howard repeated, holding up his own copy.
"'Kevetching red duel'? Dude, what's that? Somekinda Jewish science fiction convention custom?"
"Oh, for the love of-?" Howard growled, walking away.
Feeling sorry for his Ferengi friend, Leonard leaned in closer and yelled, "Got a convention schedule?"
"Oy! Yes, I do!" Raj shouted back. "You know, Armin Shimmerman wasn't lying about these Ferengi prothesiseses- they really muffle your hearing!"
"That's a drag."
"What?"
Leonard rolled his eyes and watched as Sheldon, on the other hand, was all business, and foregoed a costume, in favour of his second all-time favorite super hero t-shirt, namely his Green Lantern one.
Howard grinned at Raj in his mismatched Ferengi costume, and patted his friend on the rubbery head. He looked at how the lower half of Raj's face was exposed and chuckled,
"Ya know...if I can tell it's you, then so will Gary!"
"Shut up!" Raj gasped, suddenly ready to hyperventilate as he looked around. "He's not going to come here! We're too far from home!"
"Yeah, I'd say we're far from California, but not the Federation Funny Farm!" Penny joked, eyeing a pair of young girls dressed in uniforms, but possessing an extra 50 pounds each and a pair of purple-haired wigs.
"Despite the remoteness of Eugene, Oregon, Sci-Fictional Convention Nine promised to be everything a science fiction fan could ask for," Sheldon assured.
"Yeah, but this town sure hasn't! I haven't seen a single Walmart or decent Prada shoe store since we got here!" Penny complained.
"May I remind you and the rest of you," Sheldon sighed, annoyed that he was once again forced to remind everyone that he was the voice in charge, "that everything the rest of you experience or buy or..." he said, stealing a look at Raj, ",,,kiss...is completely secondary to my voyage of acquisition, i.e. my holy search for an unblemished-by-human-contact officially-endorsed DC Comics Flash t-shirt with precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision-engineered, perfectly-rendered white circle and lightning bolt? My perquisition is all that matters to me." He paused and looked longingly in the direction of the Dealer's Room and added forlornly, "That and the astronomically-challenged chance of me ever buying another Snoopy piggy bank."
"'Snoopy piggy bank'?" Penny asked, her features scrunching up in that cute, confused way that Leonard loved. "Hey, man, even I know that Snoopy is a dog and not a pig!"
"A poor choice of words on my part, granted, " Sheldon apologized, "but I felt the need to talk down to your quaint corn-fed level. It was a childhood bank of mine, with an adorable 3-D image of Snoopy smiling as he lay on top of his dog house, the front entrance way adorned with the name 'Snoopy' on it, while the back was a narrow slot to accept all manner of coinage, and the bottom sealed with a rubber plug, should anyone wish to 'cash in', as it were."
"You used to have one?" Penny asked.
Sheldon suddenly got even sadder, and nodded, almost embarrassed. "My sister destroyed it- she wanted money and like a fool, didn't realize she could access the $1,404.61 by simply removing the bottom rubber plug! Instead she smashed that little guy with a hammer and used the money on liquor, lottery tickets and shoes!"
Penny looked even more confused...which only made Leonard feel even warmer inside.
"What the...? How did a little kid like you save up over fourteen hundred dollars? And why would your parents ever allow her to buy liquor with it?"
Sheldon beheld her with his usual condescending pity. "Oh, it wasn't when we were children!"
"Yea, Missy bashed in his Snoopy piggy bank when she visited us two years ago!" Leonard stated.
"Oh," Penny nodded, thought back, and suddenly brightened. "Oooohhhh! And I loooved those shoes she bought! That was so worth it!" Sheldon shot her a withering look and she quickly lost her smile. "Or not!" she backtracked in a tiny voice.
"Okay, well, if we can get back on track, let's all get into that Dealer's Room and find Sheldon's t-shirt," Leonard offered leading the way.
"What?" Raj asked, looking about, confused.
Sheldon nodded, looked past Raj and sighed, rolling his eyes. "A moment, Leonard. Should we bother waiting for Howard? He seems to be in the midst of a romantic interlude with yet another unwilling and untouchable member of the opposite sex."
The group looked over to one side and saw Wolowitz in full single-guy-on-the-make gear, as he chatted up a lovely young woman dressed as the blue-skinned Na'vi, Neytin, from 'Avatar'.
Raj's mouth dropped and he suddenly assumed a state of complete panic as he hustled and pushed all of his friends into the Dealer's Room as he warned them, "GO-GO-GO-GO-GOOO! Hurry! That's not Neytin! That's Gary!"
The friends smiled and tried to get a glimpse of the potential embarrassment Howard was in for, but Raj was too strong and the group found themselves inside a bustling Dealer's Room. All manner of sci-fi items were everywhere to be seen, from model kits and action figures, to lunch boxes, posters, signed photographs masks, and DVD's covering the gamut from 'Star Trek', 'Star Wars', 'Men In Black and 'Avatar' to 'Total Recall, 'Doctor Who', and 'Stargate'.
Sheldon saw a t-shirt dealer and dashed over to him, his friends left behind in the dust and left to fend for themselves.
"And so the voyage of acquisition begins..." Leonard smirked.
Without warning the group was visited by a shuffling, pale-skinned fan in a convincing Borg costume. The cyborg alien costume was painted in a gleaming black and even possessed flickering lights and whining gears, and despite the admiration from Leonard and Raj for the fan's creativity, he strolled right up to Penny...or rather Penny's curvy bosom, so pleasantly displayed by a tight-fitting v-necked pink blouse.
"Hey, baby," the fan said in a Borg-like monotone drone, "want to see how I can make you a part of the Collective?"
Penny's fury was instantly ignited, forcing Leonard to grab her as she kicked and fought back, growling, "assimilate this, ya little wackadoodle!"
The rude Borg quick shuffled away, embarrassed, bumped into a tall fan dressed as the Wookie, Chewbacca, who took offense to the bump, and shoved the Borg fan back. seeing the situation getting out of control, Leonard suggested, "Ya know, many dealers here actually make their own memorabilia, from swords and gloves to even jewelery."
"Jewelry? Point me to it, fan boy!" Penny said, suddenly wide-eyed and in Shopping Mode.
Raj looked lost and unsure which table to check out, when another fan, this one wearing thick glasses strolled up to him, also bearing a huge Ferengi rubber head and mixed up, but colorful suit.
"Cool Quark outfit!" the bespeckled fan boy grinned.
"What?" Raj asked.
"What?" asked the fan boy
"What?" Raj asked.
"What?" asked the fan boy.
"Yes!" Raj nodded, deciding to fake it.
"What?" the fan boy asked, confused.
Fortunately Sheldon showed up at that moment. "No dice, as they say. Let's go home."
Raj had had enough of deafness, so he peeled his giant right ear up so he could use his real ear to listen. "What'd you say?"
"I said, 'No dice, as they say. Let's go home.' Honestly, Raj, I did offer you my Vulcan ears which would only muffle your hearing by a mere 10 %! Why you elected to go virtually deaf with those-"
"Hold it, hold it!" Raj snapped. "I thought you were looking for your t-shirt?"
"I looked. I failed. Now I want to go home."
"Hey, man, I didn't travel 857 miles from Pasadena, California to Eugene, Oregon, paying $192 for a return train ticket, $35 to get into the convention, and book a hotel just to spend 47 seconds in the Dealer's Room! To say nothing of missing Nick Tate of 'Space:1999"!"
"But my quest is a failure. They don't have an officially -endorsed DC Comics Flash t-shirt with precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision-engineered-"
"I don't care! I want to see Nick Tate, a.k.a. happy-go-lucky Eagle pilot, Alan Carter! So help me, Sheldon, if you ruin this for me, I shall call upon 4,000 Hindu Gods to strike you down!"
"Hey! What's happening?" Howard asked, walking up to his friends. They stared long and hard at him, noticing a smudge of blue on his cheek and around his mouth. Ironically, it showed up even more since his face appeared to be red with embarrassment. "What's wrong?"
"Dude, you're blue. Like that 'Avatar'...'woman'," Raj smiled.
Howard quickly wiped off the smudge of blue paint, and tried to make it seem like he wanted to change the subject. "No, no. It's nothing. She just...bumped into me. When we parted company. S'nothing!"
"Well, anyways, Sheldon wants to leave! Can you believe it?"
"Really? Okay! Let's hit the road!" Howard nodded quickly, taking a couple steps towards the exit, until Raj pulled him back by yanking on the wound-up bullwhip Howard had rolled around one shoulder.
"No way, Jonesy! I'm staying to see Nick Tate and that's final!"
"What?" the confused half-deaf fan boy asked, looking amongst them.
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Sheldon sighed. "If all of you want to stay and listen to an actor from a scientifically-implausible TV series or smooch blue transvestites then please go about your business, but I for one am free to cash in my return train ticket back home!"
"Wh-wha-what tr-transvestite?" a blushing, embarrassed, and trembling Howard sputtered, rubbing his mouth again. "I d-don't know what you're babbling about!"
"Sheldon! Sheldon, wait!" Leonard called out, with Penny in hand.
Sheldon rolled his eyes, and sighed with frustration, "Leonard, you of all people must surely realize that I don't care that you bought 'Hello Kitty' earrings for Penny!" He stopped and looked at her as she smiled back at them, so he allowed himself a little shrug and added, "Although they are suitably sweet! But that's neither here no there! I'm going-"
"-to Van-Cool-ver Con 7!" Leonard interrupted.
Sheldon beheld him and asked, "What?"
"What?" asked the nearby fan boy.
"I was speaking to a dealer over by the home-made Viking Pet Toys and Norse Zombie table, and he's friends with another dealer that offers strictly only DC and Marvel-endorsed clothing, and he's positive he'll have a Flash t-shirt!"
Sheldon's eyes bugged out as he thought about this, then asked, "With precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision-engineered, precisely-rendered white circle-"
"Yesyesyesyes!" Leonard snapped. "He insists that this guy, J. Purpasta, will have several copies in various sizes. Here's his business card."
Sheldon read it aloud, ", proprietor of T-Shirt Universe, I have it all, bitches!'"
"He's a bit of hoarder," Leonard explained.
"How many could he have stocked?"
"A hundred and nine."
"Xanadu!" Sheldon gasped, holding his chest as a wave of dizziness overcame him. "Then that's it! I must attend this...'Van-Cool-ver Con 7'! Where is it?"
"Vancouver."
"Makes sense."
"Only thing is it's on right now, up north, and across the border in Vancouver, Canada."
"And the problem would be...?"
"It'll cost even more money to get up there and come back! Plus another convention entrance fee, and all just for your t-shirt!" Penny warned.
"So? If my perquisition sends me there then so be it!"
Penny leaned over towards Leonard and murmured out of the corner of her mouth, "Leonard, he's using weird Klingon words again! What's a 'perquisition'? Is that, like, Klingon anti-matter or something?"
"I am not leaving!" Raj insisted, stomping his foot. "I paid too much money to miss Alan Carter's musings about Commander John Koenig and Professor Bergman to miss them now! And according to my convention schedule, he'll be on stage in 4 hours and 20 minutes, which leaves us almost no time to check out the rest of the convention!"
"I'll go!" Howard offered. "I'm down with that!"
"Are you sure, Howard? 'cause Penny and I are staying here with Raj."
"Yep! Yep! Sure!"
"Hey, is that blue on your face?" Penny grinned, leaning in.
"Let's go find your t-shirt, pal!" a nearly-panicking Howard insisted as he pushed Sheldon away and out of the Dealer's Room, narrowly missing the arrival of the mysterious blue-skinned fan dressed as Neytin from 'Avatar'. She was looking around with interest, but appeared to be more interested in finding some one rather than some thing.
Leonard, Penny, and Raj watched as the Ferengi fan boy whistled at Neytin and followed her.
The train ride up to British Columbia was a long and arduous one for Sheldon, if only because he couldn't wait to get to the convention taking place there as he travelled the rail lines. Howard, on the other hand, was using his time wisely, as he tried to woo a woman in a different row (Howard insisted on riding in separate rows), thinking that his cool Indiana Jones outfit would be a natural conversation starter.
And it was...
"I hate Harrison Ford," the disinterested red-head told Howard.
"Wellll...'Raiders of the Lost Ark' is so much more! For instance-"
"I hate Steven Spielberg," she proclaimed icily.
"And then there's always the romance portion-"
"I especially hate Karen Allen!"
Miffed, Howard sneered, "How do ya feel about Nazis?" Garnering strange looks from his outburst, he extricated himself from her row and growled, "it wouldn't have worked out between us anyway, baby- my mother would have eaten you up for breakfast!"
The embarrassed girl watched Howard leave, surprised that he stood up to her. She looked around her at the other passengers staring at her, and frowned deeply as she snapped, "And I hate trains!"
Howard plopped himself back down beside Sheldon, who asked disinterestedly, "How'd it go?"
"Nazi sympathizer. And not one of the good kinds!"
At last, Sheldon made it to the hotel in Vancouver, but not before Canada Customs commandeered Howard's Indiana Jones bullwhip. It was deemed a dangerous weapon, and the man at the customs counter was concerned that Howard might use it on the Prime Minister, since he was visiting at the same time. When Howard assured him that he wouldn't use it on Canada's leader, and then made a joke about it, i.e., "As long as he doesn't hate 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', I won't need to use it on him or have him melt because he looked at the spirits inside the Ark of the Covenant! Heh-heh! Hey, are those guns loaded?"
Sheldon entered the hotel and the Van-Cool-ver Con 7 area, estimating that if he didn't spend more than $100 on his official DC Comics-endorsed Flash t-shirt with precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision engineered, perfectly rendered white circle, he might just be able to afford to bail out Howard.
He endured the monotonous, arduous, soul-wrenching task of standing in line behind everyone else that hadn't pre-paid to get in, and quietly ignored the other fans that were costumed and otherwise in the mood to yammer to each other. He very nearly resorted to violence as a pair of 15-year old comic book fans fumbled and skewed the Green Lantern Corps oath (since he still donned his official DC Comics-endorsed Green Lantern t-shirt with precisely-matched green color scale and precision engineered, perfectly rendered power lantern insignia), but he held his tongue.
Nothing must distract me from my search! he thought to himself. Not even these mouthy misfits that probably couldn't even recite Superman's proclamation, 'Up, up, and away!' without twisting it into 'Away and up and up!'
Sheldon chuckled to himself from his little joke, garnering quizzical looks from the boys and other fans in line, so he returned to his morose, stoic expression and waited in line for another 44 minutes.
The Dealer's Room was crowded, even moreso than the previous sci-fi convention back in Eugene, Oregon, but despite the noise and chatter and over-exposure of color and science fiction memorabilia, Sheldon didn't have to wander too far inside until he found the dealer he was searching for. The man actually possessed two tables of merchandise, 90 % of which were t-shirts and sweat shirts covering countless comic book, science fiction and fantasy series. Sheldon pushed his way past the crowds to get up close and seek out the dealer, who was as overweight and balding as Jabba The Hutt, but he didn't care- was his saviour, his best friend, his purveyor of Flash memorabilia, his Captain Kirk to his , his...!
"It's not here! It's not here? IT'S NOT HERRRRE!" Sheldon cried out in shock and anguish, as his big, bulging eyes searched out the row upon row of t-shirts displaying all of the superheroes of DC, Marvel, and Dark Horse Comics, even some television-created heroes like 'The Greatest American Hero' and 'Heroes'...but...not...one...Flash t-shirt!
The pudgy guy, ostensibly , himself, waddled over to Sheldon, who was shaking and sweating as if he were burning up with a fever in the Arctic. "Can I help you?"
"The Flash! I was told you'd have a Flash t-shirt! And not just some lame rip-off screen-printing produced in someone's basement, but the actual thing! The DC-endorsed Flash t-shirt! I was told you had a hundred and nine of them!"
"Hey, hey, hey, sorry, mister, but you just missed out on getting one! I just sold all of them to some guy who wanted every one of them!"
"'Some guy'? 'Some guyyyy'? You just hand over your entire stock to some wide-eyed, freakish lunatic that wants all of your stock?"
looked Sheldon up and down and frowned, "Yeah. I get alot of that at conventions."
"Well, this is impossible! I won't stand for this! I've come too far, paid too much money, left a trail of discarded friends and acquaintances in my wake as I embarked on my holy perquisition, and I shall not be denied! I want my official DC Comics-endorsed Flash t-shirt with precisely-matched scarlet color scale and precision engineered, perfectly rendered white circle, and I want it now!"
"Look, buddy, the guy just bought up all of my stock 'cause...oh! Waitasec! There he is!"
"Wherewherewhere?" Sheldon asked, spinning around in a panic, looking out amongst a sea of costumed fans and bored girlfriends.
"He's wearing it! One of the Flash t-shirts I sold him! Ya see him? He's over by-"
Sheldon's eyes bulged as he locked onto the precisely-matched scarlet color scale that he knew all too well. The man had his back to him, and seemed to be looking for a particular comic book at a comic book dealer, his face bent down and out of sight as he dug through previous back issues.
"-a comic book dealer that shall either bear witness to the birth of a new and ever-lasting friendship brought on by the exchange of an ungodly amount of momentary funds, or...a bloodbath and an exchange of fisticuffs if I don't get my way!" Sheldon murmured.
"Yeah...that's the guy," frowned, and turned away to help a new customer.
Sheldon steeled himself, calmed his breathing and heart rate, so as to not appear as if he'd just jumped off the space shuttle bus for his first visit to the futuristic Big City, and gradually approached the man from behind. He even forced a jovial, friendly smile to be pasted across his face (something Leonard probably would have suggested), and released one more calming breath as he reached his target.
"Excuse me, sir, but am I to understand that you recently purchased a DC Comics-endorsed Flash t-shirt? If so, I would gladly offer you an amount of money that would not only reimburse your original purchase, but also supplant your Dealer's Room funds substantially!" In his head, he added, To hell with Wolowitz! I'm getting my Flash t-shirt even if he has to rot in jail! "I only ask this because the Flash is my number one, all-time favorite superhero."
The red-shirted man straightened up, paused, and slowly turned around.
Sheldon's eyes bugged out even wider (if that was possible).
His mouth moved, but no sound came out, other than indistinguishable syllables and consonants.
The man's face broke out into the biggest, smuggest smile that Sheldon had ever laid eyes upon.
"Sheldon, old buddy! What're you doing here?" asked the man.
Sheldon's eyes began to twitch, his mind raced, his head began to ache, and his logic centers began to fizzle and run in circles as this epoch of illogic confused him and sent him into involuntary shakes.
"YOOUUUU? You're the one that bought all 109 Flash t-shirts from J. Purpasta?" Sheldon squealed.
"Who else?" the man grinned, slapping Sheldon on the shoulder (and probably bruising him there, too).
"This is...impossible! My holy cause and search can not have been in vain! It cannot have come to this debacle! I couldn't have come all this way, enduring one convention after another, travelling hundreds of miles by train, listening to Howard strike out with one female after another, only to find that every Flash t-shirt at this convention has been purchased by my arch-nemesis, Wil Wheaton?"
The actor from 'Star Trek-The Next Generation' continued to grin wildly, more pleased with himself than words could say. Aw, what the heck...he could say it! "You have no idea how great this makes me feel, Sheldon! Here all I was doing was buying a bunch of t-shirts for a bunch of people as a lame way to make them like me, and now it turns out that I've engineered a painful revenge on you! This is priceless, man!"
"But-but-but-but-"
"You sure do like to talk about bums alot, Sheldon!" Wheaton teased.
Sheldon calmed himself and tried to focus...as hard as that was, considering his vile nemesis, Wil Wheaton, stood before him, wearing what should have been his Flash t-shirt!
"Wheaton...Wil Wheaton...Wil...may I please inquire as to why you would wish to purchase all 109 Flash t-shirts, if not to stab at my heart and soul in some kind of sadistic Ultimate Revenge?"
"What? It's always gotta be about you, doesn't it, Sheldon?" Wheaton squinted. "You think I'm some kinda Flash fanatic? Some kinda uber geek that needs a specific item and 108 of the same just like it, just to get back at you?"
"Yes!"
"Well, you're wrong, Sheldon, old boy. There's a reason I bought all of them."
When Wil Wheaton didn't elaborate, Sheldon crossed his arms and forced himself to calmly say, "I'm waiting."
Again, the mischievous, devilish grin broke out on Sheldon's arch-enemy, as he explained, "While you and the fan boys can make due with simply wearing a Flash t-shirt, I'll be donning a much more impressive image of the Flash. Ya see, Sheldon, you might want to check out the Internet Movie Data Base once in a while, and through that you'd discover that your favorite super hero is standing right in front of you!"
"No!"
"Yep! Saw the script, signed the contract, got the fittings done..."
"Nooo!"
"Yep! And took a couple hours out of shooting the film in Vancouver of my latest motion picture, 'The Flash', in order to rub elbows with the fans, and buy a load of Flash memorabilia to give back to the cast and crew as my way of saying,'I'm the Flash! And thank you!'"
"Nononononono-"
Wil Wheaton gave him another playful smack on the shoulder and left as he said, "It's gonna be a blockbuster with me as its star! That's right, Sheldon; I'm playing Barry Allan and the Flash, your all-time favorite superhero! Don't forget to see it numerous times to make it successful and me even more rich and famous! Seeya!"
Sheldon watched in open-mouthed shock, speechless and heartbroken (and empty-handed), as his vile enemy amongst all other enemies, chuckled and left the Dealer's Room with his Flash t-shirt. His breathing became sparse, his chest heaved, and Sheldon shouted at the top of his lungs to the ceiling of the Dealer's Room,
"WHEEEEEATONNNN! WHEEEEEATONNNN! WHEEEEATONNNNNNN!"
J. Purpasta walked up to him with a look of pity and snapped, "Geez, mister, it's just a t-shirt!"
The train ride home found Sheldon mumbling to himself, filled with hatred and revenge against Wil Wheaton, images of other worlds and other characters raced through his mind's eye as he recited some famous lines...
"He tasks me! He tasks me and I shall have him! I'll chase him 'round the rings of Nibia and 'round the Antares Maelstrom, and 'round perdition's flames before I give him up! This station is now the Ultimate Power in the universe! There is no escape...Don't make me destroy you! If you only knew the power of the Dark Side! No...no, you can't get away! From hell's heart I stab at thee. For hate's sake...I spit my last breath...at thee! Hasta la vista, baby! Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! Say hello to my little friend! RATATATATATAT!" he finished, mimicking firing a machine gun.
He suddenly found himself back in reality, sitting across a terrified little girl that cowered in the arms of her equally-terrified (and confused) mother. He recovered his sanity, sat up straight, made the V-shaped Vulcan Salute with one hand, and said, "Live long and Prosper!", before he casually looked outside the window and ignored their fearful stares.