"As long as you love meeee, I'll be your platinum, I'll be your silver…." Mustafa sang.
"I'll be your gooooooold!" Goldmember cried.
Enter Hollywood talent Scout, Scott Evil: No one could have worn his father's "genes" better. He was more vicious than Simon Cowell and Christina Aguilera put together in the same room. Dr. Evil, after siding with his brother, Austin Powers, left him his lair, where Scott carried out Dr. Evil's unfinished plans to take over the world- and kill…Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery…
"You know what I'm going to do for you?" Scott said, petting Mr. Bigglesworth. "Mister Mustafa, was it? And Goldmember?"
"Yesh," Goldmember muttered quietly. "Yesh." He was wearing shades, and gold underwear that said "Justin." Mustafa had on a tutu.
"Please," Mustafa inquired. "I would very much- l-like to know…what you think of my choreographed performance." He wore a look of great hope and anticipation on his face.
"Yeah, the reenactment of Justin Beiber from an awkward Arabian guy and some Swedish weirdo doesn't really do it for me," Scott said.
"But…I'm from Holland…" Goldmember corrected. "I know that's veird," he repeated, over and over again, moving his head from side to side.
"So- you're saying," Mustafa said slowly, "You didn't like it?"
"Listen," Scott began, "You guys suck. You have no talent."
"Ouch, that hurts," Goldmember said.
"You guys are old. Nobody wants to see old people listen to young people music. I mean- what the hell is that? You can't sing, you sure as hell can't dance, and you look like a bunch of assholes. Number 2 could do a better job than both of you, and he's named after a turd."
"It's true," Number 2 said. "I am."
Scott made a hand gesture as if to say, "See?" While Mustafa and Goldmember nodded.
"But the turd doesn't fall far from the asshole," Mustafa quoted philosophically.
Scott ignored him. "Look- I'm not saying this because I care. You really suck. And what's with Justin on the back of your underwear? That's so…homo."
"He's the Justin of today, not the Timberlake of the 90's," Goldmember squeaked, defending himself.
"Who cares?" Scott said. "I hate Justin Beiber. I like death metal, understand? Death. Metal. Not this crap."
Mustafa and Goldmember looked down, ashamed.
"But here's what I'm going to do for you," Scott said. "I'm going to save myself from the horror I just witnessed…and you're going to save yourselves…from your miserable lives." The last part of the sentence striked an eerie resemblance to Dr. Evil, as Scott placed a pinky up to the corner of his mouth. "Mother," he commanded.
"YES!" Frau said, making everyone in the room jump.
"The button," he whispered. Frau looked confused.
"The button," Scott said again. "The- the button," he repeated a little louder so Frau could hear him, glancing at Goldmember and Mustafa.
"What…what button?" Mustafa asked, catching on to Scott's fleeting glance and looking to Goldmember for an answer, who shook his head.
"Oh, that button…" Goldmember said wide-eyed, as Frau finally found it.
Frau pushed it, and the metal flooring separated to reveal a tank of sharks with lasers attached to their heads. Goldmember and Mustafa were plunged into the water, heads bobbing up for air.
"A round of applause for these gentlemen," Scott said. "Now, tell me- tell me. Who thought it sucked? Let's see a show of….hands?" He pointed at the drowning Mustafa and Goldmember, whose hands were sticking out, just above the water. "Mua-hahahaha!" Scott laughed as they drowned. "Mua-hahahaha!" The rest of Scott's henchmen joined in, even Frau. "Mu-hahahahahahaha! Mu-hahahahahahaha!"
"I'm here for the party!" A loud, Scottish voice rung out.
"Fat Bastard," Scott said, as if he couldn't fathom how his performance would top Goldmember's and Mustafa's.
"Yeah, but don't send your sharks on meh. I've got enough skin left tuh make 'em pyook."
"What is it you're here for?" Scott said.
"The talent show!" He said undoubtedly. "Ya didn't think I'd pass up this chance, did ya? The media doesn't like fat people, and now that I'm skinny…"
"No, dumbass, what can you do?" Scott was more specific.
"Oh, aye!" Fat Bastard said. "I can fart rainbows of songs! They come at me when I'm on the shitter. It's the strangest thing. Last week it was the Statefarm jingle. Would ya a little sneak peak, a preview?" His eyebrows raised in amusement and he smiled. He began to blow ass, and sure enough, it was as he'd said.
Everyone groaned and made faces of disgust. "And that's just the half of it," Fat Bastard said proudly. "The smell really came into it's own." He took a whiff. "Really- matured, you know?"
"Number two, can you open a window?" Scott asked.
Mustafa was still drowning. "Mom…Scott began, shaking his head. "Just close the tank." They could still hear Mustafa's fists beating against the metal.
Meanwhile, back at Austin's pad…
Time: 10:30 pm
Location: Austin's Pad, California
"Hello, you handsome dog, you!" Austin Powers stood full-frontal nude in the mirror, grooming the hair on his chest with a fine-tooth comb. He barked savagely at his reflection, showing both his teeth and his approval of himself, and then chuckling. The room had a 60's look to it, with wild colors everywhere, floral decorations and lava lamps.
There was a knock at the door. "The door is open, baby, come on in," Austin said, pleased.
Dr. Evil, hunched over, walked in awkwardly. "Um, do you think you could…?"
"Oh, don't be intimidated, man," Austin said to Dr. Evil. "We're brothers! I'm sure you sword wields as much power as mine does."
"Riiiight…" Dr. Evil said. "It would be good if we didn't see each other naked- yeah. We're kind of in modern times, here. No organic food, no Burning Man, no colony of nudists…That sort of thing."
Austin Powers threw on some clothes- black slacks and his usual blue blouse with white ruffles underneath.
"Yeah, about that nightclub, not gonna be able to make it." Dr. Evil said.
"Don't tell me you're chickening out on me?" Austin looked at him in disbelief, and then reached for his silver male medallion.
Dr. Evil shrugged, looking like a turtle in a shell. "Well… I'm just starting to get used to normal society. I don't think an evil doctor would be welcome in a night club."
"You've got to be kidding me, baby! Nightclubs are for sinners, saints posing as sinners, cynics, critics, Catholics, swingers, sluts and tom-peepers, sleepers, and scads of serious thrill-seekers." He threw his head from side to side after each person of description, and after, was out of breath. "Evil never sleeps there!"
"I don't know," Dr. Evil said.
"Listen, baby, if you're worried about being handsome- Austin said as he fixed his collar in the mirror- you don't have to."
"Well, I always thought my nose was big, you know, just…" and Dr. Evil put his fingers up to indicate "just a little."
"No, man! Look at your shiny, bald head. It's brilliant, baby!" Austin gave Dr. Evil's head a noogie and kissed the top of it.
Dr. Evil pursed his lips and looked in his peripheral vision at Austin. "You really think so?"
"Plenty of chicks dig those bald men who shave their heads because of a mid-life crisis and invest in motorcycles. And yours is natural! Be proud, baby, be very proud!"
"I guess you're right," Dr. Evil clapped his hands together giddily and smiled.
"Damn right, I am!" Austin Powers said with a wink. "A little leather and you have a little mojo. Don't forget your mojo, baby. That's important."
"How do I look?" Dr. Evil had on his grey suit, and a black leather vest. He held a pinky questioningly to the corner of his mouth. He looked like Dr. Evil in a grey suit with a black leather vest.
"Smashing, baby!" Austin exclaimed.
Just then, a familiar tone played on Austin's laptop. It was Bazzle.
"Hello, Austin!" He said in his Brittish accent. "Ehem. Dr. Evil."
Dr. Evil sat awkwardly on the edge of Austin's bed, shifting his eyes from side to side with his hands in his lap, his lips pursed.
"I'm sure this is weird, since I'm usually your subject of conversation, yeah," Dr. Evil admitted.
"Oh, spit it out, Bazzle!" Austin shouted in annoyance.
Bazzle cleared his throat again and replied, "Right. I've received intelligence that Scott Evil's whereabouts have been sighted at the up-and-coming Nighthawk Club in downtown Los Angeles. We need you to…wait…is Dr. Evil ok with this?" Bazzle asked uncertainly.
Austin's head darted toward Dr. Evil. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," Dr. Evil muttered, putting a hand up. "I'm used to betraying my own blood-line."
Austin darted his head back toward Bazzle on the computer screen, and he continued. "Austin, we need you to apprehend Scott's henchmen. We're not up to speed on what he's planning, but we do know it's urgent."
"I'm your man, Bazzle."
"Oh, and Austin- you're going to need Mini-Me. This club stands a secret to most of Los Angeles. There's a bouncer behind a thick door who needs to know the password. Mini-Me will have to crawl through a hole in the side of a wall and open the door for you to gain entry. How you take out the bouncer is up to you."
"I'm on it," Austin assured him. "Right. To my shag-mobile!"
Mini-Me had on some funky shades, a top hat, a suit and a jeweled cane. "You look positively dapper, you gorgeous, wicked munchkin of the west!" Austin laughed. He picked up Mini-Me by the head, and kissed him on both cheeks while his tiny legs kicked about. They'd parallel-parked Austin's car and stood at the neon entrance of the Nighthawk.
Mini-Me smiled.
"You know what you have to do, right?" Austin Powers asked him.
Mini-Me nodded and ducked down, proceeding to go into the tiny hole, where the bouncer stood on the other side of the alley. He got stuck halfway through. Austin took his shoe and lurched it at Mini-Me.
"What are you doing?" Dr. Evil asked him.
"Little- bugger's- got- to go- through!" Austin said, continuing to shove Mini-Me.
"Daddy loves you," Dr. Evil called down to Mini-Me, a hand cupped to his mouth so that he could hear.
"Eeeeeeee!" Mini-Me cried. "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!"
"It's a good thing he's doing," Dr. Evil convinced himself aloud, while Austin continued to boot him. He flailed around on the other side, arms thrashing up and down.
"I'll go distract the bouncer. Excuse me," he called out. "I don't know if you've noticed, perhaps, but this young lady has been standing in line for an hour."
He pointed to the nearest person, who happened to be a tall man with a handle-bar mustache.
"Oh," Dr. Evil said. "Oops…."
Austin finally managed to get Mini-Me into the hole in the wall, when suddenly, Dr. Evil shouted.
Austin rushed up to the entrance to see what was going on. "And I'm a fricken evil genius. Did you honestly think your wits could match mine?"
The man with the mustache was bound and gagged.
"No, but my muscles can kick your ass," A larger man shouted.
"Have you any idea how moronic that sounds?" Dr. Evil asked him. "Honestly."
"Judo-chop!" Austin Powers cried, and hit him in the nose. He ducked down and dodged a hit from the man just in time. The crowd gasped.
"Dr. Evil! Do something! We need to get inside, now!"
Dr. evil, looking around and not seeing how he possibly could be of any help, poked the bouncer in the eyes with his two fingers.
"Oooww!" The bouncer cried, stumbling backward.
Mini-Me flung the door open, and just as it was about to close, mooned the men waiting in line. He had bruise marks on both butt-cheeks.
Austin made an "ouch" face, and after came the guilt and realization that it was because of his own doing.
Austin, Dr. Evil, and Mini-Me slipped through the door to the Nighthawk.