REVENGE OF THE STEWIES
In his new "Secret place," which was really a blanket tacked over a lawn chair in the garage, Stewie Griffin soldered a panel on the side of his latest invention.
"There, I'm finally finished!" Stewie looked at the device in triumph. It looked like a metal trash bin, but was really a cloning device that Stewie had been working on for several weeks now. "Well, now I can finally set out to conquer the world, and get rid of the annoying witch at the same time-and I don't even have to do it myself!" Stewie chuckled. "I must say, I haven't been this excited since that time I was on Who Wants to be a Millionaire."
FLASHBACK… "OK, Stewie, for the 32,000 dollars, here's the question: Which of the following scientists is NOT a physicist…"
"Oh, for God's sake, it was Hubble; anyone with a decent high school education knows that one! Now come on and give me the remaining questions so I can get out of here!"
Back in the present: Brian Griffin was reading the morning newspaper. A familiar football-shaped head passed behind him. "Hey, Stewie." A few seconds later it happened again. "Stewie? Didn't you just…" When a third Stewie passed by, Brian did a double-take as he saw that the kitchen had become filled with Stewies. "What the hell…"
"Ah, I see you've met my clones." The original Stewie stood in the doorway.
"You cloned yourself?!?" Brian stared at him. "Isn't that kind of dangerous? Not to mention against the law."
"Oh, stop worrying. I've got them completely under my control. They're blank slates with nothing upstairs. It's like having your own army of Paris Hiltons."
"Hey, Brian. Hi, Stewie, hi Stewie, hi Stewie." Peter paused as if he sensed something was wrong, but shrugged as he went to the refrigerator. "Hey, who ate all the frozen donuts?"
"Speaking of nothing upstairs…" Brian muttered. "Stewie, I'm telling you this could be dangerous. Genetic material can break down over time. This could be the worst thing to happen since that Golden Girls opera."
FLASHBACK: Bea Arthur was singing on stage: "I used to be a star on Maude, now I'm stuck with Blanche and Ma!"
Chorus: "She used to be a star on Maude, now she's stuck with Blanche and Ma!"
"Oh, calm down," Stewie admonished him. "I told you I've got everything under-hey! Where do you think you're going?" The clones were trotting out of the kitchen, and out of the house, at a fast pace. "Come back here! I'm your master!"
"Not anymore," they chanted in unison. "The world is ours!"
"But I'm supposed to rule the world! This is intolerable!"
"See, I told you," Brian calmly replied.
"Oh, shut up and help me round them up." Brian shrugged and followed Stewie outside. Back in the kitchen, Peter glanced out the window and said, "Hey, you kids, and that dog, get off of my lawn! Hey Lois, we never had any extra kids, did we?"
Cleveland Brown was trying to teach his son how to throw a baseball properly with little success. "OK, son, now this is a curve ball…son, you need to pay attention now. What is it, son?"
"Look, daddy, I'm a beach ball!" Cleveland Junior rode a wave of Stewie hands before being unceremoniously dumped into a row of bushes.
"Oh, dear, I think I must be hallucinating."
"No, you're not!" Brian said as he and Stewie ran by. "We'll explain later!"
When they got to Quagmire's house, they saw him trying to fend off a group of Stewies with a garden hose. "Back, back! I know a hundred different ways to use this thing, giggity giggity goo!" He bobbed his head back and forth angrily as they closed in on him.
"My God! They're everywhere! We'll never be able to round up all of them at this rate!"
"You're right," Stewie acknowledged. "Oh, curse this devious brilliance of mine!"
"Well, I hope you've learned your lesson," Brian grimly replied.
"You're right. I'll never fool with genetic engineering again. I don't want to be remembered as a smaller version of Kahn Noonian Singh."
Somewhere in outer space: "This is it, James T. Kirk!" Stewie crawled over to a version of the Genesis Device while his ship exploded around him. "From hell's heart I stab at thee…" He pressed a button and the ship blew up. From the blackness of space Kirk and his crew heard one final message: "Owwww! That really stung!"
Back in the present: "Well, you created them. They must have some weakness if you thought you could control them." Brian frowned as he and Stewie paced back and forth in Stewie's tree house. Down below, the army of Stewies looked up expectantly.
"Stewie…join us, Stewie…"
"Why can't you leave me alone?!?" Stewie grabbed a nearby toy rifle which happened to have a sniper scope and fired it at them. Some of the Stewies were struck by rubber darts but stayed where they were. Stewie then looked at a bust of Douglas McArthur. "It's your move," he added.
"This is getting us nowhere." Brian swatted aside the checker board they'd been using to pass the time. "Isn't there one thing that they all have in common that you can use against them?"
"My God! Of course there is!" Stewie rummaged through a footlocker and began putting something on.
"What the…?"
"Hey, everybody, look at me! I'm a teletubby!" Stewie climbed down the tree house's ladder and stood in front of his many copies. "Let's all go watch the show!"
"Oh, I get it," Brian said as he also climbed down and snuck into the house. "That's it, Stewie! Keep them coming!" Once inside, he turned on the cloning machine and reset its controls as Stewie had described them. "I sure hope this works…not like that time I built that time machine."
Sometime in the 1600's: Brian was tied to a stake. "Look, for the last time, I'm not a demon, I'm from the future! There's no such thing as witchcraft!"
"We figured that out last year," a man dressed like a pilgrim said. "We just ran out of food!"
"I bet he tastes like chicken," one of his companions added.
"Oh yeah, like that one will never get old," Brian replied.
Back in the present: The last clone went into the cloning machine as Brian pressed a button. According to Stewie's theory, they were all now broken down to their basic molecular components, as Stewie pointed out by picking one of them up. It looked like a small white lump of…something, which crumbled into powder when Stewie crushed it.
"So you're sure that' the last of them?" Brian asked.
"Oh, there's no need to worry. I'm going to destroy this blasted machine and concentrate on my other great passion-getting rid of the Fat Man's wife." Stewie grinned with diabolical glee. "Now, the only problem is, what do we do with all of these?" He gestured at the pile of remaining lumps.
"Well, I think I have an idea…"
Peter came back into the kitchen. "If only all those little football-headed kids hadn't eaten the frozen donuts," he grumbled. "Now I'm hungry again!" Out of habit he opened the refrigerator door. "Hey, what's this? More snacks?" Peter picked one up and popped it into his mouth. "These aren't bad," he said to himself, as he picked up another one…and another…
THE END