The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is stuck in traffic. Just mindless fun from my tiny mind when nothing good is on TV.
Carpool Craziness
"Another fun day in LA traffic," Pam said cheerfully as she drove the Rush Van through the streets of LA. Krieger was in the passenger's seat.
"Another day of slowly not going anywhere," Ray remarked as he sat in the back seat with Cyril and Cheryl. "A perfect metaphor for our agency if there ever was one."
"It's not that desperate!" Cyril said. "I've got another telecommuting consultation gig this morning. And at a couple hundred bucks an hour I am going to drag that call out as long as possible."
"Is it that same group that wants to split California into two different states?" Krieger asked.
"No," Cyril corrected him. "It's from a group of people who want to make Texas a different country."
"Where do I sign that petition?" Cheryl asked.
"Doesn't your family have a lot of oilfields or something in that state?" Pam asked.
"Not anymore," Cheryl sighed. "My grandfather lost all oilfield rights in a poker game. I mean Tunt trains still transport oil and other goods. But it's not the same."
"I am also going to have another twenty-five minute call with the California people this afternoon," Cyril admitted, deciding that changing the conversation away from Tunt family history wasn't the worst idea.
"Hang on," Ray realized something. "If you're consulting by phone and computer…Why do we have to go into work?"
"Because we're still an agency!" Cyril snapped. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned. For all we know somebody might actually walk into our office today."
"Yeah, the Better Business Bureau," Krieger quipped.
"Stranger things have happened," Pam admitted.
Ray added. "Usually to us!"
"Is her Royal Grand Hands coming into work today?" Cheryl asked.
"Actually, she's going to deliver more flyers and do some other office errands today," Cyril told her.
"What errands?" Ray asked.
"I needed some mail delivered," Cyril said. "Mostly bills. Lana took those and the flyers last night and said she'd deliver them. Oh, and she said she would drive across town to get that ground coffee Pam really likes. Which I admit is good."
"Hey! I believe in supporting small businesses," Pam said. "And Love It A Latte has some good pastries too!"
"Lana promised to pick up some too," Cyril said.
"Awesome possum!" Pam grinned. Everyone looked at her. "I'm trying out some new catchphrases. You know? To see what sticks."
"That one wouldn't stick if you covered it with duct tape," Ray remarked.
Cheryl thought for a moment. "Does anyone think it's weird that Lana of all people volunteered to put up flyers and do stupid errands? I mean she's always bitching about how flyers are beneath her."
"She's probably desperate to get out of the office," Cyril sighed. "I can't say I blame her."
"Me too," Ray nodded.
"Damn it," Pam frowned. "I should have volunteered!"
Cheryl looked around. "So, nobody but me thinks that she might have an ultimate motive for delivering flyers?"
"The word is ulterior motive," Cyril corrected.
"Well if her ultimate goal is to get out of the office," Krieger added. "Mission accomplished."
"I'm the only one who thinks that Lana may have something going on the side?" Cheryl asked.
"What the hell could Lana possibly be doing that we don't know about?" Cyril snapped.
"I don't know!" Cheryl snapped. "Maybe she's running around doing secret low-level spy stuff? Courier missions and all that."
"You really think that Lana Kane," Pam asked. "Ms. Ethics would actually do that?"
"And more importantly," Ray added. "That she'd do it without not only us finding out, but Ms. Archer?"
"I think your groovy bears are inflaming your overactive imagination," Cyril agreed.
"Well it's either that or she's having an affair," Cheryl shrugged.
Everyone then started to laugh. "Seriously?" Pam snickered.
"Okay yeah," Cheryl giggled. "As soon as the words came out of my mouth I was thinking, Whaaaaaaaaaaat?"
"If she was having an affair with anybody, I'd know," Cyril nodded.
"No, you wouldn't," Pam remarked. "But I think you're right about Cheryl's imagination running wild on this one."
"Yeah," Ray nodded. "The only thing Lana is trying to score is some peace and quiet. And maybe a cup of coffee? Cyril next time I want to go deliver flyers."
"Why don't we talk about something more productive?" Cyril asked. "So that this commute doesn't become a complete waste of time."
"Dream big, Cyril," Ray remarked. "Dream big."
"Did you hear about that guy who drove through the Mears store with his SUV?" Pam asked. "Drove right through the mall."
"Oh my God!" Ray gasped. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Not really," Pam shrugged. "I mean it was a Mears store."
"And if there was any damage," Ray added. "Who could tell the difference?"
"Lucky almost nobody shops at that place anymore," Krieger nodded. "Why is that still open?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of ideas to improve the office and get some more work for the agency," Cyril said. "Not gossip about the retail apocalypse."
"A lot of business people say it's not a retail apocalypse," Krieger pointed out.
"A lot of business people are just in denial," Ray remarked.
"They say more businesses are opening than closing," Krieger remarked.
"Where exactly are they opening?" Pam asked. "Can I get a map or something that shows me where they are? Because every time I turn around, I see another empty store!"
"Or hear about a store planning to close stores," Ray added.
"If we don't think of more ways to get work ours will be next!" Cyril snapped. "Now come on! Let's brainstorm about ways we can improve our office!"
"You could leave," Cheryl remarked. "That would be an improvement."
"You could get sober," Cyril glared at her. "That would be a huge improvement!"
"Okay that was just mean!" Cheryl snapped.
Pam honked her horn. "Move it asshole! Get off the damn phone and watch where you're going!"
"Pam he can only move a space and a half," Ray pointed out.
"And it's a space and a half closer to work," Pam snapped.
"Pam relax," Krieger said. "We'll be there in plenty of time."
"We'd better be!" Pam grumbled. "This is all your fault Ray!"
"My fault?" Ray snapped. "How is this my fault? Who do you think I am? The God of Traffic?"
"Bumper-To-Bumperus," Cheryl giggled.
"You know traffic is bad!" Pam snapped. "And we could have left earlier but you just had to take ten extra minutes in the bathroom!"
"It's very important to moisturize!" Ray snapped. "Plus, it has 30 SPF in it! Excuse me for trying to protect my skin and not have it turn into leather!"
"It wasn't Ray's fault that we left later anyway," Krieger pointed. "It was Cyril's!"
"Me?" Cyril shouted.
"It doesn't take twenty minutes to pick out a sweater vest!" Ray snapped.
"I didn't want it to clash with my shirt!" Cyril snapped. "And if you recall I was fully dressed and ready to go while Cheryl was still passed out in the hallway!"
"I was not still passed out in the hallway!" Cheryl corrected. "I was passed out again in the hallway. I woke up. Got dressed. Had breakfast and made myself up. Then Pam hit me like a linebacker for the Patriots when she ran in to go to the bathroom!"
"You should know to get out of my way by now!" Pam snapped. "Especially after I've had my third cup of coffee!"
"Oh, dear God Pam," Ray realized. "Is that what this is about?"
"I'm fine for now," Pam said. "Let's just say it wouldn't be a bad idea if we got to work on time. In case the train in the station decides to leave early."
"From the smell in the bathroom I would have thought the entire fleet of Amtrak departed," Cyril groaned.
"That's what woke me up," Cheryl admitted.
"That was just my first two bowel movements," Pam said. "I just want to get to work before my pre-lunch movement."
"Woman how many times do you have to go to the bathroom in a day?" Ray asked.
"You really don't want to know the answer to that question," Pam sighed.
"I do not," Ray realized.
"And neither do the rest of us!" Cyril snapped. "Now can we please start thinking of ways we can improve our business?"
"Too bad people wanting states to either split up or secede is such a niche market," Pam groaned.
"Well there are people who want New Jersey to be a separate country," Cyril admitted. "But since most of them are people from New York…Not gonna hold my breath on that one."
"I have a suggestion," Krieger said. "Science has been working on a machine that can make diamonds out of pollution!"
"And by science," Ray rationalized. "Do you mean Dr. Mindbender?"
"This is real science! Not a cartoon!" Krieger snapped. "But thank you for the comparison. What? Say what you will about his work but the man has abs of steel!"
"Actually, we are a…" Cheryl paused. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."
"I always try," Cyril sighed. "But I have heard about this. I think the Dutch are working on this."
"It's a fact," Krieger said. "Smog is made up of 42 percent carbon! We use the machine like an air purifier. Suck out the pollution. TWWWWWPPP! Push out clean air. Add a little pressure to what we get. And floopity-floo! We have diamonds!"
"Am I correct in surmising that you have made a machine like this?" Cyril sighed.
"You are correct sir!" Krieger grinned. "And I installed it in the Rush Van! What did you think that big box like thing connected to an outside vent was for?"
"Honestly Krieger," Ray said. "When it comes to your inventions, the less we know the better!"
"All we have to do is test it and fine tune my machine," Krieger grinned. "Then we'll be up to our earlobes in diamonds! Suck it, Kay Jewelers!"
"If this machine works," Cyril paused. "You want to sell our services to the government? Having them pay us to clean the air?"
"No," Krieger gave him a look. "We get paid when we sell the diamonds we make! DUH!"
"That does sound like a good plan," Pam nodded.
"It's better than anything else we've got," Ray admitted. "Or probably will come up with."
Cyril sighed. "How do you turn this thing on Krieger?"
"Just get back there and push that red button," Krieger instructed. "The air is particularly smoggy today."
"Okay…" Cyril did so.
KRRRRRUUNNNNK!
"Is it supposed to make that noise?" Cyril blinked as the machine rumbled in a not so gentle hum.
"I don't know," Krieger said. "This is the first time I've tested it! Basically, anything could happen."
"Yeah it might explode and kill us all," Cyril groaned as he got back into his seat.
"Really?" Cheryl squealed with delight.
"Way to look at the positive side of things Cyril," Ray groaned.
Cheryl was confused. "I thought he was."
Cyril sighed. "Can we talk about something else? Maybe think of other ways to make the office more productive?"
"Yeah!" Pam honked her horn. "Telecommuting! BECAUSE THESE ASSHOLES DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!"
"We've barely even moved," Cheryl groaned. "Boring!"
Ray agreed. "We're going slower than a molasses covered basset hound being called in to get a bath."
"I think the car chase scenes in movies are pure fiction," Krieger remarked. "How can anybody go fast in this traffic?"
"I've seen snails move faster than this," Cheryl admitted. "Okay I admit I set a firecracker under their slimy butts but still…"
"I've attached rockets to turtles," Krieger admitted.
"Get out!" Cheryl was surprised. "My cousin Calvin did that. Until one day the idiot blew himself up. Ka-Boom!"
"Your relatives let your cousin play with firecrackers?" Pam asked. "Unsupervised?"
"He was 47," Cheryl told her. "And his parents were dead. And they left him in charge of their fireworks factory. Which turned out to be a big mistake."
"Can we talk about something other than animal cruelty?" Cyril snapped. "Or the insanity of Cheryl's relatives?"
"Sure, if you want to limit the conversation," Cheryl remarked.
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"DON'T YOU HONK AT ME BITCH!" Pam shouted. "I'm not the one trying to cut in! Stay in your own lane!"
KRRRRUNNK!
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"Where do you want me to go?" Pam snapped at another driver. "Where do you want me to go? I can't move asshole! STAY IN YOUR OWN LANE!"
"Wow the traffic is really bad here," Cyril remarked. "And we're in the carpool lane."
"Yeah and this jackass wants to cut in!" Pam snapped. "And she's only one person! NOT GONNA HAPPEN!"
VRROOM!
"Yeah try and cut in now!" Pam snapped as they moved. "Damn it! It's like people don't know how to drive anymore."
"Whatever happened to common courtesy?" Ray asked.
"That sucker fled the country years ago!" Pam snapped as she honked her horn. "MOVE IT OR LOSE IT ASSHOLE!"
KRRRRUNNK!
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"GET OFF THE DAMN PHONE AND MOVE IT!" Pam shouted. "MOVE IT!"
"Maybe telecommuting isn't such a bad idea?" Cyril sighed.
"We should turn left here," Krieger pointed. "Go the back way."
"It's not that much faster than this," Pam said.
"It's faster than standing still!" Krieger snapped. "Which is what we've been doing!"
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"OH, COME ON!" Pam shouted as she honked the horn. "IT'S CALLED DRIVING MORONS! YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME!"
"That's it," Ray said. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going to go?" Cyril asked. "We're in the middle of the…"
ZOOOOOM!
"Highway," Cyril winced as Ray used his cyborg speed to take off through the back doors of the van.
"One thing about cyborgs," Krieger remarked. "They sure can get around."
"Phrasing boom!" Cheryl called out.
"Better leave the back doors open," Krieger suggested.
"Sure!" Cyril snapped. "Let all that nice fresh exhaust smell in!"
HONK! HONK! HONK!
KRRRUNNKKK!
"What the hell are you honking at me for?" Pam shouted out the window.
"I'm not!" A man shouted. "I'm honking at the idiot in front of me!"
"Oh sorry!" Pam called out.
"This wouldn't happen if people just stayed in their own damn lanes!" The man screamed. "I'M TALKING TO YOU IN THE GOD DAMN CONVERTIBLE! YUPPIE PIG!"
"There's an opening! Take it!" Cyril pointed.
"I see it," Pam started to drive.
"What about Ray?" Krieger asked.
"He's on his own!" Pam snapped. "He knew the risks! We're out of here!"
VRRROOM!
The van moved exactly five feet before it was stopped in traffic. "Something tells me Ray will be able to catch up," Pam groaned.
"A turtle could catch up with us!" Cyril snapped.
"Especially if we attach a rocket to its shell," Krieger nodded.
"I'm bored!" Cheryl groaned.
"How is that my problem?" Cyril snapped. "Who do I look like? Julie McCoy?"
"How about we play a game?" Pam sighed. "I Spy. I spy with my little eye…Something beginning with C."
"Car," Everyone else said.
"Yup," Pam sighed.
"I spy with my little eye…" Cyril looked around. "Something beginning with T."
"Truck," Everyone else said.
"Yeah," Cyril admitted.
"I spy with my bored little eye," Cheryl looked around. "Something beginning with F."
"Fender," Cyril said.
"Nope," Cheryl shook her head.
"Ferrari?" Pam guessed.
"Nope," Cheryl told her.
Krieger then noticed something. "Fire?"
"Well I was going to say flames but yeah close enough," Cheryl nodded.
"Fire?" Cyril looked around. "Where do you…? Oh yeah. There's a brush fire on the other side of the highway."
"So, there is," Krieger remarked. "I spy with my little eye…Something else that begins with F."
"Firetruck," Everyone else said.
"Yes!" Krieger grinned.
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"Oh no you don't, asshole!" Pam shouted. "You think I didn't notice you trying to cut in line by driving in the breakdown lane? Think again!"
HONK! HONK! HONK!
"Honk this!" Pam gave the driver the finger. "You're not getting in!"
"I spy…" Cheryl looked around. A police siren was heard. "Something beginning with C that's not a car."
"Cops," Cyril sighed.
"That's right," Cheryl nodded. "Pulling up right alongside that guy using the breakdown lane."
"That will teach the bastard," Pam snickered.
"Well at least it's something to watch," Cheryl remarked as she looked out the window.
"GET OUT OF THE CAR! GET OUT OF THE CAR!"
"I spy…" Krieger remarked. "Something beginning with G."
BANG! BANG!
"Gunfire," The others said in a bored tone.
"Right," Krieger nodded. "Oh, I spy something that begins with S!"
"Suspect," Everyone else said.
A man tried to run in front of the van. He was suddenly tasered in the back. "I spy something beginning with T," Pam said.
"Taser," Everyone else said.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
"HANDS ON THE GROUND! HANDS ON THE GROUND!"
"I spy something beginning with A," Pam remarked.
"Arrest," Everyone else said as the cops arrested the suspect in front of their van.
"Bingo," Pam nodded.
"It's nice to see the police after somebody besides us for a change," Cyril remarked as the cops dragged the man away.
"Hang on!" Pam called out. "We're moving!"
And then did. For three feet. "OH, COME ON!" Pam shouted.
"I'm sick of this stupid game," Cheryl groaned.
"Well I'm sick of your whining," Pam snapped. "Just watch the cops."
"There's nothing much to see," Cheryl pouted. "Now that the guy they're arresting is unconscious."
"Well then watch the fire!" Krieger snapped.
"It's not that interesting," Cheryl admitted.
"No, I mean that fire," Krieger pointed ahead. "Over there. Off that side road."
"Oh!" Cheryl saw it. "That's a much better one."
ZOOOM!
"I'm ba-ack!" Ray said cheerfully.
"Where did you go?" Cyril asked.
Ray showed them a bag and a tray full of coffee cups. "I went on a Starbuck's run."
"I don't think coffee is a good idea considering the situation," Cyril groaned.
"I also got some bear claws and muffins," Ray said.
"Then pass the bear claws up," Pam said. Ray gave her one. "Thanks Ray."
"What did I miss?" Ray asked.
"Eh nothing much," Cheryl sighed. "Two fires and a guy got arrested and tasered on the highway."
"So, the usual?" Ray asked.
"Pretty much," Pam admitted as she chomped on the pastry with one hand. "Okay I see an opening! We're getting off this lame way and hitting the back roads!"
"All right! YEAH! YES!" Everyone else cheered.
"Suck it traffic jam!" Pam whooped as they moved off the highway.
Twenty minutes later…
The gang was stuck in traffic on the regular streets of LA. "Son of a…" Pam grumbled.
"Well at least the view is nicer," Ray sighed.
"Yes," Cyril noticed. "That man urinating in that alley is a much better sight."
"Why are there so many tents on the street?" Cheryl asked. "Are they camping out for tickets? Oh! Is Hot Guy Boy Band on tour again? I love them!"
"How do you not know about LA's huge homeless problem?" Ray asked.
"I'm rich," Cheryl looked at him. "I live in Beverly Hills."
"Duh!" Pam sighed.
"Besides if they're homeless," Cheryl said. "Why don't they just go get a hotel room or something?"
"I am not going to explain the socio-economic problems of the homeless to you," Cyril groaned. "Mostly because it would be a waste of time."
"Well that's all we have thanks to this damn traffic," Pam groaned.
"Turn on the radio," Ray suggested. "Maybe there's something good on?"
"Why not?" Pam did so.
"Riding to the Danger Zone…"
"NO!" Everyone else shouted.
"Yeah, I think we've had enough of that one for a while," Pam winced as she changed the station.
"I'll burn it down, I'll burn it down to the ground. I'll burn it down to the sea! I'll burn it down, I'll burn it down to the ground. Don't mess with this country queen."
"That sounds familiar for some reason," Cheryl blinked. "Was this in a commercial for lighter fluid or something?"
"Change the station, Pam," Cyril sighed.
"Freaking fracking freaking fracking froo! Wwwwwoop! Whoop! Hot! Hot! Holla!"
"I have no idea what those people are saying," Cyril blinked.
"I know this one," Pam said. "It's by that new Pop Star Me Tuber Hand Model Sweater Enthusiast, Inga Inga. It's called I'm Hot. You're Not."
"I have a better title for this song," Cheryl winced. "I'm Hot. Burn This Record Into Ashes."
"For once I am in complete agreement with your arsonist tendencies," Cyril winced.
"My diamond making machine sounds better," Krieger realized. "At least it has some rhythm."
"Okay," Ray sighed. "Either we're too old. Or we're not hip enough. Either way I don't care."
"Next…" Pam changed the station. More music they weren't familiar with played. "Okay even I have no idea who that is or what they're saying!"
"Say what you want about the music we grew up with," Cyril began.
"Which are now considered oldies," Pam groaned.
"Yikes," Ray winced.
"But at least you could understand the lyrics!" Cyril snapped.
"What about Louie, Louie?" Krieger asked.
"That doesn't count," Cyril told him. "They intentionally mumbled the words to piss off the FBI."
"What about Bob Dillan?" Ray asked.
"He was stoned out of his gourd half the time," Pam said. "Let me try another station."
A song came on the radio. "Oh, I love this song!" Ray squealed.
"Me too!" Krieger realized.
"Me three!" Cheryl squealed.
Soon the gang was happily singing along to the radio. "Oh Mickey, what a pity you don't understand! You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! Oh Mickey, you're so pretty, can't you understand? It's guys like you Mickey! Oh, what you do Mickey, do Mickey! Don't break my heart, Mickey."
"I love that song!" Cheryl squealed. "I once dated a Mickey!"
"Me too!" Ray grinned. "Now that I think about it, I've dated at least five."
"I named some of my lab mice Mickey," Krieger nodded. "It looked cute on their little tombstones."
"You know that song is now considered an oldie?" Pam said.
To this the group jeered at her. "Seriously? Aw man!" Krieger groaned.
"Oh, come on!" Cyril snapped.
"Why would you tell us that?" Cheryl snapped. "Why?"
"Well now I'm depressed!" Ray grumbled. "Thanks a lot Pam!"
"At least it gave us something to do for a few minutes," Pam turned off the radio. "I can't believe how much traffic there is! And it's after nine!"
"I read somewhere that LA's population is shrinking," Cyril remarked. "And the number of people using cars is going down."
"Then why the hell is there so much traffic?" Pam snapped.
"Maybe they commute from other cities?" Cheryl suggested.
KRRREPUUNNLKKK!
"Are you sure that thing is doing something Krieger?" Ray asked. "Besides making an awful noise?"
"It's a process," Krieger said. "It's definitely taking something out of the air. Trust me, by the end of the day we will have something."
KRRRRRPPLLUNNNKKK!
"Maybe you should look at it or something?" Cyril suggested.
"Okay," Krieger sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt. "Somebody switch places with me."
"I'll do it," Cyril sighed. Both of them awkwardly tried to climb over at the same time. "OW! Krieger get your elbow out of my ear!"
"Well get your foot out of my stomach!" Krieger snapped.
"OW!" Pam snapped as Cyril's foot grazed Pam's head. "Watch it!"
"Hang on!" Ray called out.
"You move this way!" Krieger said.
"I was moving this way!" Cyril snapped.
"OW!" Cheryl snapped. "Cyril you kicked me! Thank you!"
"No, you're moving that way!" Krieger snapped. "I need you to move this way!"
"Well you're moving that way!" Cyril snapped.
"Guys! Hang on!" Ray snapped. "OW!"
"Watch it!" Pam snapped. "You're gonna spill my coffee!"
"Well if Krieger would go the right way…" Cyril began.
"I am going the right way!" Krieger snapped. "If you would just put your leg over here…"
"That's where my hand is!" Pam snapped.
"HANG ON!" Ray whistled loudly.
"God damn Ray!" Pam winced.
"Ear balls!" Cheryl winced.
"WHAT?" Cyril snapped at Ray.
"We're stuck in traffic!" Ray snapped. "Why can't you two just open the doors, get out of the van and switch places that way?"
Krieger and Cyril blinked. "Oh," They said at the same time.
"That makes a lot more sense," Pam remarked.
"Duh!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Not that I don't appreciate the kicking…"
Krieger and Cyril switched places quickly after that. "There!" Ray snapped after they did so. "Was that so hard?"
"Is that considered phrasing?" Pam asked.
"Not everything is phrasing, Pam!" Krieger groaned as he went to check the machine.
"Then you're not trying hard enough," Pam remarked. "Ugh. This traffic sucks! We must be at least a mile from our agency but it's gonna take us an hour to get there! We'd get there faster walking!"
"Yeah and most of us don't even have bionic legs," Cheryl agreed.
"This is why I usually run to work if I can help it," Ray nodded.
"And yet you usually get in the same time as we do or later," Cyril looked at him.
"Is it a crime to run a few errands before work?" Ray asked innocently.
"I know some of the type of errands you run," Cyril groaned. "Some of them might be considered illegal!"
"Keep talking like that bitch," Ray sniffed. "You'll sass yourself out of free bear claws!"
"He didn't mean it!" Pam said quickly. "Cyril tell Ray you were joking!"
"Well duh," Cyril rolled his eyes, knowing it was better to let Pam and Ray have their way. "I'm joking. Relax!"
Cheryl realized something. "Where have you been getting our toilet paper?"
Ray waved. "Like Beryl Minch and PCJ Stallion can't afford a few missing rolls from their supply closet. Or paper towels. Or some extra coffee money. And coffee."
"Oh, dear God," Cyril groaned.
"Hey! I like the toilet paper he gets!" Pam snapped. "I'm not knocking it!"
"How do you get in and out without getting caught?" Cyril asked. "It can't just be your bionics!"
"It isn't," Ray waved. "I'm friends with the doormen, a couple of security officers and some of the janitors. You know they don't tip those people very well. We split it."
"I'm not even going to ask…" Cyril sighed. "I'd like to feign ignorance at my trial."
"You're the one who's always bitching about keeping costs low at the office," Ray pointed out.
"He's got you there Cyril," Pam agreed.
Cyril sighed. "Can you get some pens, paper and stamps on your next run?"
Ray waved. "Cake."
"Can you bring back cake?" Pam asked.
"Depends on who's celebrating a birthday," Ray remarked.
KRURUNNNKKK!
"Krieger is that thing working?" Cyril asked.
"Yes, it's working," Krieger said. "I'm pretty sure it's doing something."
"Oh joy," Cyril groaned.
"Hey you wanted to do something productive?" Krieger snapped. "We're doing something productive! We're testing out one of my research projects that could make us millions!"
"Or kill us all!" Ray groaned.
"That's the spirit!" Cheryl cheered.
"Well it's probably the only thing productive we're probably going to do today!" Pam honked her horn. "We're not going anywhere! GREEN MEANS GO ASSHOLES!"
The van moved about a block before stopping again. "I can't take this…" Pam groaned. "I've seen drunken cows crossing the road move faster than this!"
Ray could hear a noise. "Sounds like something is blocking the road. Does anyone besides me hear chanting?"
"I thought it was just the voices in my head," Cheryl blinked.
"No, he's right," Krieger said. "There's something just ahead of us. And it's coming closer!"
"What the hell is going on up there?" Cyril asked as loud chanting was heard.
"Looks like a bunch of protestors are blocking the street," Pam realized.
"CHANGE CLIMATE CHANGE! CHANGE CLIMATE CHANGE!"
KRRRUUNNKKK!
"I think you should change the filter on that thing," Ray remarked.
"It still sounds better than the protestors," Cheryl remarked.
A wave of people was walking in traffic. Blocking cars and holding signs. "What the shit?" Pam snapped as a group of people holding signs surrounded them. "Get out of the road dumb asses!" She honked her horn.
"We need effective climate change policies now!" A man with a beard, A red and black t-shirt, jeans, sandals and a megaphone called out.
"Oh yeah," Cheryl folded her arms. "Scream about something and annoy people until you get your way. That will work!"
Ray looked at her. "You do that all the time!"
"Yeah but I'm rich and hot," Cheryl said. "These hippies look like the poster for Scuzz Weekly."
"That reminds me," Krieger remarked. "I need to renew my subscription."
KRRRRRUNNKKKAKRUNNKKK!
"Climate change now! Climate change now!" The protestors chanted all around them.
"Hang on," Pam said as she rolled down her window. "You're protesting climate change by blocking traffic? What the hell does traffic have to do with climate change?"
"Carbon emissions from cars?" Krieger remarked.
"Oh right," Pam realized. "Okay you made your point. Can we go now? Some of us have to go to work!"
Cyril sighed. "Or at the very least, an incredible simulation of it."
KRRRRRRRRUNNKKK!
"We are protesting to show the world we need to change our carbon input!" The megaphone guy shouted. "If we don't do something, the world will be destroyed!"
"Promises, promises," Cheryl scoffed. "Don't believe the hype! People have been saying the world is going to end for like forever! But it never does! Because people are teases!"
KRRRRUNNKKK!
"I'd like to point out a flaw here in your strategy," Cyril said to the protestors as he rolled down the window. "You're blocking traffic. Making hundreds to thousands of cars idling. Which is actually putting out more carbon into the air than if they were just moving along!"
"What?" One of the protestors blinked.
"He's right!" Pam called out.
"You're just making the problem worse doing it this way," Cyril said. "Not better. Just saying."
The protestors booed Cyril loudly. "Way to go Cyril," Ray groaned. "Just work your special brand of magic!"
"Hey! It's not my fault your premise is flawed!" Cyril shouted at the protestors. "Blame the car companies! Not the people who buy them!"
"Yeah why don't you protest on the streets where the car and energy CEOs live?" Pam snapped. "Instead of harassing people who just want to go to work?"
"I know those guys!" Cheryl called out. "I can give you their addresses!"
KRRRRUNNKK! KRRRRUNNKK! FFFFFTTTTT!
"Uh oh," Krieger blinked as he went to check on the machine. "That can't be good."
FRRTTTTTT! FFLLLLLLLRRRTTTT! KRRRRUNNKKKKKK!
"I'm just saying if you want the public on your side," Cyril snapped at the angry protestors. "Blocking traffic and causing a traffic jam is one of the worst things you can do!"
"Just ask Governor Christie," Ray nodded.
FFFTLLLL! KRUUNNKKK! FLLTTEELLL!
"What the hell is wrong with that gas guzzling van?" The megaphone guy shouted. "You are polluting the fresh air of this world!"
"What fresh air? This is LA moron!" Pam shouted. "You have to drive at least fifty miles to get a whiff of any air that doesn't have smog in it!"
FLLORRRUTTT! FLOORRRRT!
"Oh, that is not good when it goes to flort," Krieger winced. He went to work on the machine.
"Flort is bad?" Ray asked.
"Flort is very bad!" Krieger told him.
"So is this!" Cyril gasped as several of the protestors started banging on the van.
"You want some fresh air?" Pam called out. She then unbuckled her seatbelt and managed to maneuver herself to put her butt out the window. "HERE'S SOME FRESH AIR!"
"SHE'S GONNA BLOW!" Cyril screamed.
"HIT THE DECK!" Ray shouted.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!
"OH MY GOD!" A female protestor screamed in horror as she held her nose.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTT!
"OH GOD! It's in my hair!" A male protestor with long hair screamed. "It's in my hair!"
"HERE'S PLENTY OF NATURAL GAS BITCHES!" Pam laughed. "HA HA HA!"
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTT! FFTTTTTTTTTTTT!
"Oh god…" Ray winced as he held his nose.
"Yeah that one has some stink even for me," Pam said proudly. "Whoo!"
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTT!
"They're using gas warfare!" The megaphone guy screamed.
SPLOOORRTT!
"AAAAHHH!" The megaphone guy screamed as he was covered in some strange black gunk.
"What the…?" Ray looked around. "Krieger are you doing this?"
"Technically my Krieger Diamond Maker is doing it," Krieger explained.
SPLORT! SPLORT! SPLORT!
"WHY IS IT DOING IT?" Cyril shouted as protestors were getting pelted with black gunk.
"I had to reverse polarity," Krieger explained. "That way the pollutants don't go into the van!"
"Better out than in," Pam grinned.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" A protestor writhed around in agony from both the gunk on his face and Pam's stench.
"AAAHHHH!" Protestors fled in panic, breaking ranks. Some of the traffic was able to move.
"Wait," Cheryl blinked. "Why is it spewing shit in the front of the van?"
"I turned around the funnel on top," Krieger said. "So that it would spew in front of us instead of behind us."
"Why?" Cyril shouted.
"I didn't want to hit the Cadillac behind us," Krieger remarked. "What? A man can't appreciate a nice car?"
Ray looked out the window behind them. "That is a nice car."
"And so is that one!" Cheryl pointed. "With the pretty red lights and the siren!"
"Uh oh…" Ray winced as a policeman approached the van.
"Hello officer," Cyril sighed. "What seems to be the problem?"
Two hours later the Figgis Agency wandered into the office. "Worst commute ever!" Ray groaned as he went straight to the bar.
"Well at least the cops didn't press any charges against us," Pam remarked as she followed him.
"That's because a mass farting isn't technically a crime," Cyril groaned. "Krieger good call covering up the whole mess by making up some kind of technical failure with the van's eco-friendly whatever it is you called it."
"Lucky for us there have been a lot of emission problems in cars," Krieger said. "And in LA it's pretty common."
"Excuse me," A young man in a cycling outfit walked in. "Is this the Figgis Agency?"
"That's what it says on the sign," Cyril sighed. "Can I help you?"
"I'm a courier," The man held an envelope. "You need to sign for this."
"Here's something else that's common," Cyril groaned as he signed for the envelope. "Bad news…"
"Not my problem dude," The courier shrugged as he left.
"Oh, what fresh Hell is this?" Cyril sighed as he opened the envelope.
"What is it?" Ray sighed. "Is it a summons to appear in court? A new lawsuit? Oh, let me guess, another fine?"
"No," Cyril's eyes widened. "It's a check. For eighty thousand dollars!"
"WHAT?" Ray and Krieger shouted.
"Let me see!" Pam looked at it. "Holy Smog Snacks! It's a real check! Who would send us money?"
"Here's a note," Cyril read the note. "Thanks for your support. We were in the Cadillac behind you and saw the whole thing. By breaking up the protest we were able to get to our meeting on time and sign a billion-dollar merger. This is the least we could do. Looking forward to acquiring your services in the future. Signed HTP Oil Incorporated."
"I've heard about these guys," Ray realized. "They're into drilling and fracking. Things that those protestors hate."
"PS," Cyril kept reading. "The fart thing was the highlight of our week. Loved the natural gas joke! Ha! Ha!"
"I'll say this for oil guys," Pam remarked. "They have a sense of humor."
"Oh my God," Ray realized. "Not only did we make money today, we got a new contact for the agency! We actually accomplished something today!"
"Who says multi-tasking doesn't work?" Krieger nodded.
"Here's the plan," Cyril said. "We split the check five ways. Don't tell Lana or Mallory about this. As far as anyone is concerned, it never happened."
"Until I get really bored and decide to tell them," Cheryl giggled. "Man, I can't wait to see them explode in rage! HA! HA! HA!"
Everyone glared at Cheryl. "Krieger…" Cyril narrowed his eyes.
"I know where this is going," Krieger took out his tranquilizer dart gun.
"What?" Cheryl asked. "Where is what going?"
THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!
"Oooh…" Cheryl's eyes crossed after Krieger shot her with some darts. She passed out on the floor.
"Okay," Cyril said. "New plan. We split this check four ways. Don't tell Lana, Mallory and Cheryl about this. Krieger give Cheryl enough drugs so that she forgets today!"
"Done and done," Krieger nodded. "The dosage I gave her, she'll be lucky if she remembers this week."
"I wish I could forget this year," Cyril sighed.
"Just say the word," Krieger told him. Cyril glared at him. "What? Too soon?"