"I do not agree," Orla said suddenly through a mouth full of corn chips. "A song of love is not necessarily a sad song. And I do not see what hi-lily, hi-lily, hi-lo has to do with anything..."

Oswald looked up from his book. "WHAT are you watching?" He stared at the screen a moment, still had no clue, then found the DVD box sitting nearby. "The Lawrence Welk Show?"

"Our friend who's writing this loaned it to me. I was curious."

"He's not our friend," Oswald stepped back and shouted into the air. "AND KNOCK IT OFF WITH THE SELF-INSERTS, ALRIGHT? IT'S NOT CUTE!" He watched a bit more of the show over Orla's shoulder. "Why would you want to watch The Lawrence Welk Show? It's for old people!"

"I am five hundred years old."

Oswald sighed. "Yeah, that's basically the target demographic..."

"And I am interested in learning more about the fads and fashions I missed while guarding the 44-Leaf Clover."

"Yeah, well, you're probably lucky you missed most of these," Oswald huffed. Then he noticed the corn chips. "Should you really be eating those? Omar and Opal should be back from Kentucky Fred's Chicken any time now."

"Ah yes," Orla rolled up the top of the bag and put it away. "You are right. I should not be spoiling my dinner."

Oswald took advantage of the distraction to grab the TV remote. "Anyway, let's check out that revival of BIZARRE BRIGADE." He changed channels. "I heard they got a whole new cast and everything! It's teens solving Odd problems now! They've even got a Mobile Unit!"

"Hmm. Sounds familiar," Orla sat down again. "I hope they have not taken too many liberties..."

The show came on. The two agents gaped.

"Well... They've taken liberties..."

On the screen, a twenty-something actress playing a teenager in a steel bikini brandished a sword and brought it down, smashing a wooden table into kindling.

"LET THE WORLD KNOW AND QUAKE IN UNQUENCHABLE TERROR! For I am Bodecia, former guardian of the enchanted rose of Trall! I have lived apart from all others for eons untold! AND I CRAVE HOT, PASSIONATE LOVE!"

A muscular twenty-something-playing-a-teen with an obvious curly red wig emerged from the hall, wearing only a towel.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, instinctively covering his glistening chest. "I'm sorry, Bodecia! I was in the shower..."

"No need to be sorry, young Byron," Bodecia purred, nostrils flaring. "For you may very well be what I crave to slake my centuries-old thirst!"

Orla stared at the television, jaw on the floor. Beside her, Oswald was blushing all over. "Seriously?"

Just then, another twenty-something girl, this one in a modified Odd Squad uniform with a micro mini-skirt and kinky boots entered. "Forget it, girl! Byron's mine!"

Bodecia hissed. "I think NOT, Bea! Did you not discard him after using his scholarly skills to secure the Lost Treasure of Queztecatipoca?"

"Yeah, man. That was low." Another young man entered. "Besides, I thought we had a thing going after last night in the ice cream factory..."

Bea fluffed her hair and smiled flirtatiously. "Why Bertram, you know that was just to keep warm..."

Oswald sighed. "Y'know, as hopelessly confused as I am right now, I'm sorta glad I have no idea what they're talking about." He grimaced. "And my hair does not look like that." Brief pause. "Does my hair look like that?"

Meanwhile on the show, Bertram shrugged. "Oh well. I'm Black and I've said my one line so it's time for me to go back offscreen and look for souvenirs..."

He disappeared. Bea and Bodecia produced switchblades and circled one another menacingly as Byron stood and flexed in his towel.

"My hair does not look like that," Oswald insisted. "I mean, the rest of it's pretty accurate but my hair doesn't look like that."

Then a monitor screen switched on. "AGENTS! YOU HAVE AN INCOMING CALL FROM THE QUEEN B!"

The picture dissolved to a sexy girl in a sparkly jacket and a ponytail who posed seductively on a desk while hunky shirtless men in bondage gear stood on either side of her.

"Who...?"

"Hiya, underlings!" The girl applied a fresh coat of purple gloss to her pouty, surgically enhanced lips. "The name's Bolivia! And I'll be filling in while the Queen B is in prison for a murder she didn't commit!"

"Oh! Excuse me!" Byron edged toward the door. "Lemme go get dressed..."

"Mmmm, not on my account, cutie," Bolivia wiggled her eyebrows. "In fact, I may decide to make that the Official Bizarre Brigade uniform..."

"How absurd!" Orla scoffed. "Such a costume is completely impractical for combat! Even the steel bikini makes more sense!"

Oswald, meanwhile, had his head in his hands. "Am I just a sex object to these people?"

On the show, Bolivia produced a lollipop, caressed it lovingly with her tongue, and glared at the camera. "There's some odd activity down at our old ex-arch enemy Bizarre Lamar's pickle patch! Go check it out!"

Bea nodded. "Sure!" Then she hesitated. "Wait. Shouldn't we go get Bertram?"

Bolivia looked up from the lollipop. "Who?"

"The Black guy."

She shrugged. "You can if you want. Whatever'll help the ratings..."

"HEY, GUYS! WE'RE BACK!"

Omar and Opal entered the van. Oswald quickly hit the mute button.

"Huh-hi!" He smiled tightly.

Opal was unpacking the food from the bags. "We got the twenty-piece bucket, half regular, half extra-crispy... Orla, here's your Cole slaw..."

"Thank you. I enjoy this cole slaw. Though I quite dislike these strange eating implements."

"Yeah, they're called sporks, they're a combination of a spoon and a fork..."

"And we got regular fries, Cajun fries, curly fries, mashed potatoes, potato wedges, Jojo potatoes..." She shrugged. "I think I saw that werewolf kid in line..."

"What's that you're watching?"

Oswald cringed; the question he'd been dreading. "It's... Uh..."

Orla answered through the cole slaw. "It is a revival of the program BIZARRE BRIGADE and it's said to feature teenagers solving Odd problems." She sighed. "However, they seem to concentrate more on carnal impulses..."

"Yeah," Omar sighed. "They tend to do that on that network. Hey, wait! Is that supposed to be me? Turn it up, dude!"

Reluctantly, Oswald turned the sound back on.

"So, Bizarre Lamar," Bertram produced pen and notepad. "Someone covered your pickles in jam?"

"You know it, hunty! And not in a good way, y'know? I just stepped away to fix my face an' when's I gots back..."

Oswald sank into his chair. "So, back to Lawrence Welk?"

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