Captain Steubing stood on the deck of the Pacific Princess with his crew.

"So..."

The Little O stood beside him, talking on her badge phone. She held up her hand, signaling for him to wait a second.

Annoyed, the Captain cleared his throat and tried again.

"You said your people would be arriving soon?"

"Yeah!" She closed her badge phone and re-attatched it to her uniform. "That was them! Their van should be here in a couple minutes!"

Doc Bricker, Julie, Gopher, and Isaac exchanged looks. "Their... van?"

"Yeah, they're almost here!"

Captain Steubing frowned. "We're still at sea. We won't dock for another three hours."

Little O nodded, bouncing on her heels. "I know."

Gopher asked the question hesitantly, as if he suspected what was coming. "How can they board the ship if they're in a van?"

"Oh, the van flies," she shrugged. "Didn't I mention that?"

"The van... flies..." The Captain's frown turned into a scowl. "Young lady, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but..."

"Here they come now!" Little O pointed at the sky.

Then they saw it too.

"That's... That's a van..."

The OSMU Van descended from the clouds, rockets blasting behind it, before the eyes of the astonished Pacific Princess crew.

"I don't believe it..." whispered Julie. Gopher made little croaking noises, unable for the moment to form words.

"It..." Doc Blinker took off his glasses, cleaned them, then took another look. "It's aerodynamically impossible!"

"Yeah!" Little O chirped. "That's the coolest part!"

The van did a barrel-roll, then touched down, landing on deck and rolling to a stop.

"Holy cripes..." Isaac tried to will his mouth to shut. It wouldn't.

The van parked on the deck of the ship. After a moment's pause, the four OSMU agents climbed out through the side door. Little O stepped forward to make the introductions.

"Captain Stubing, may I present Agent Orla, Agent Omar, Agent Oswald, and Agent Osmerelda, collectively known as... Drum roll, please..." The ship crew jumped as a small boy they hadn't noticed before started playing a drum roll on a drum kit they also hadn't noticed before. "...The Odd Squad Mobile Unit!"

The agents cordially greeted Captain Stubing. "Hi!" "So nice to meet you!" "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Hey!"

"OSMU, this is the Captain of the cruise ship The Pacific Princess And this is Doc Bricker your doctor, Gopher your yeoman purser, Isaac your bartender, and Julie your cruise director. They're going to be transporting the Death Whstles of Huehuecoyotl back to Mexico!"

Oswald gasped. "I've read about those! Weren't they stolen by the French when they temporarily took over Mexico in the 1860's?"

Osmerelda nodded. "I heard about that too! Apparently, they were recently re-discovered in an abandoned church in Sauve Majeurs. France is returning them to Mexico as a Diplomatic gesture."

"I didn't know about any of this," Julie commented to Gopher. "Did you?"

He shrugged. "I usually just skip ahead in the newspaper to the funnies."

"Me too," Isaac sighed. "Pretty embarrassing when a bunch of kids know more about current events than you do."

"Oh, don't feel bad!" Oswald flashed a conciliatory smile. "I'm a former Library-Museum Person. Archeology's a hobby of mine!"

Isaac nodded slowly. "Ummm... Okaaay..."

"The whistles are on display," Captain Stubing explained. "The passengers will be able to view them during the voyage. After that, they'll be turned over to a government representative and entrusted to a Mexican museum for safekeeping."

Omar looked puzzled. "And we're here because...?"

"Because the whistles are causing oddness!" shouted the Little O. "Huehuecoyotl was a trickster god and the whistles are playing tricks on people!"

"Causing oddness?" Captain Stubing looked dubious.

"Yeah. Like that!"

He looked to where the Little O was pointing and discovered he'd just sprouted a three foot long lizard tail. It curled and twisted, its scales glistening in the sun.

"GAAAAH!"

Orla produced a gadget and zapped the tail. It vanished.

"I guess after all that time sitting forgotten in a box, the whistles are feeling frisky!"

"I had... a tail... I could feel it moving..." Captain Stubing struggled to breathe.

Gopher leaned close to whisper to the Captain. "Sir, we did tell you about all this. Remember the lobsters polka-dancing on the Aloha Deck? Or the yodeling pigeons? Or...?"

"I thought you were joking... I thought you made all that up..."

"Sir, do you think I'm even capable of making up something like yodeling pigeons?"

"That's why we suggested you call Odd Squad," Julie added gently. "They take care of these kinds of things."

Gopher shrugged. "It was either them or Paw Patrol."

Little O addressed OSMU. "I need the four of you to keep the oddness under control during the trip to Mexico. The most important thing is to look after things and keep the passengers from panicking."

Orla struck a pose. "We shall keep vigil throughout this ocean voyage to protect the passengers and safeguard them from any oddness that might occur!"

Isaac took a deep breath. "Yeah, but if these whistles are doing all this weird stuff..."

"Odd. Odd stuff."

"Yeah. If they're doing that, wouldn't it be safer for you guys to take them in your flying van?"

Osmerelda sighed. "We've transported odd artifacts in our van before..."

#

FLASHBACK TO THE TEAM TRYING TO LOAD A LARGE GLASS STATUE INTO THE VAN.

"Okay, okay. We've almost got it, we've almost got it..."

"Cripes, this is heavy! Are you even lifting on your end?"

"Of course I'm lifting on my end!"

"Stop walking so fast! I almost tripped!"

"Well, be more careful!"

"I am! But I'm walking backwards and I can't see where I'm going!"

"Lift from the legs, from the legs, not the back..."

"Hurry up! My hands are cramping!"

"Look out, it's tilting!"

"It's what?"

"It's tilting, it's tilting, it's..."

CRASH!

"Oops."

#

Orla shook her head. "It did not go so well."

"Besides, the exhibit has been advertised for months and the company refuses to cancel it," Julie explained. "So we'll just have to manage."

"Well, don't worry!" Omar assured them. "We'll keep everyone safe!"

"Yeah!" added Oswald. "And stop any oddness that occurs!"

The crew looked at the squad dubiously.

"Are you sure we can't get Paw Patrol?"

"Don't worry," Gopher put on his best fake smile. "These guys are trained to handle oddness! And we don't have to worry about them pooping on the floor!" He grinned, then considered. "Do we?"

"We shall refrain." Orla's eyes blazed in a death stare.

"First things first," Oswald said. "Where are the whistles now?"

"Downstairs in the Magnolia Ballroom," Isaac answered. "The French government sent a guy from the Surete to guard them. An Inspector... Clouseau, I think."

"Inspector Clouseau?" Oswald started vibrating with excitement. "Inspector Jacques Clouseau? The famous French detective?" He ducked out of sight for a moment, reappearing in a miniature version of the Inspector's famous trenchcoat and hat. "I've read about all his cases! He's one of my favorites!"

Omar gaped. "How many of those outfits do you have?"

"Forty-seven," Oswald answered. "Well, forty-eight but I don't wear the Miss Marple one."

Isaac checked his watch. "It's almost time for me to take him his tea. Y'wanna come along?"

"Would I?" Oswald was bouncing with joy. Then he sobered up a bit. "Oh yeah, and I'll need to check the Whistles to make sure they're all right..."

He and Isaac started to leave. Then he stopped.

"Hold on a sec." He ducked out of sight, reappearing in his OSMU uniform. "I better not wear the costume. I don't want him to think I'm a weirdo or something."

"Yeah," Isaac kept the smile firmly in place. "Wouldn't want him to think that..."

They left. Orla looked around.

"While young Oswald is speaking with the artifacts' guard, perhaps I should patrol the vessel to assure it's free from oddness."

"Fair enough!" Doc Bricker smiled. "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour!"

"It really is a most magnificent vessel," Orla said as they left. "I trust the galley slaves are well-treated..."

Gopher's head snapped around. "Did she just say...?"

"Galley slaves, yes." Omar sighed. "It's a long story."

"Well, we don't have time for it now," the Captain remarked briskly. "We have work to do! And can someone get this van off my deck?"

"BUT I WANT TO SEE THE SHIP!" Van Computer insisted. "I'VE NEVER BEEN ON A CRUISE SHIP BEFORE!"

Captain Stubing started. "Did... did that van just TALK?"

"I AM VAN COMPUTER, A SOPHISTICATED STATE-OF-THE-ART INTERACTIVE CYBERNETIC INTELLIGENCE. AND I LOVE TO PARTY! CAN'T I STAY UP HERE AND EXPLORE THE SHIP?"

"No, Van Computer," Osmerelda said gently, seeing the look on Captain Stubing's face. "I think you'd better ride in the hold with the other vehicles."

"BUT WHY?"

"Because the ship's not built for vans. And all the other vans would be jealous."

Van Computer sighed. "I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. I'LL RIDE IN THE HOLD. HOW DO I GET THERE?"

Osmerelda looked around for directions. Finally, Gopher stepped in. "It's down that way and to your left."

"Oh, I see it now. Thanks!" She climbed into the driver's seat. "Come on, Van Computer! I'll help you get settled in..."

They drove off. That left just Omar and The Little O.

Julie nodded. "That was quick thinking, telling her the other vans would be jealous!"

"What? They would be." Quietly ignoring the look of utter bewilderment on Julie's face, Little O strode over to the ship's railing. "Now that OSMU's on the case, I've got a lot of other stuff to attend to. So..."

She activated her jet-pack, blasting off into the sky.

"Byeeee!"

"G'bye, Little O!" Omar waved goodbye. "Don't worry! We'll take care of things!" He turned to face the others. "I wonder if I have time to get a souvenir..."

Julie was still staring up where The Little O had flown off. "What? Oh..." She shook herself. "Oh. Sure. Gift shop's this way."

As the final member of OSMU left, Captain Stubing turned to Gopher.

"And now, Yeoman Purser Smith, could you get someone to clean the tire tracks off my deck before the passengers arrive?"

"Yessir!" Gopher snapped to attention and saluted. "I'll take care of it right away!"

"Wonderful," Captain Stubing growled. "If I make it through this trip without losing my mind, it'll be a miracle..."

#

The Death Whistles of Huehuecoyotl, bejeweled and shimmering, were arranged picturesquely on a plush cushion inside a glass display case. Oswald munched on the candy bar he'd gotten from a vending machine as the French Inspector continued to lecture him.

"So, as you can See, my little huckleberry friend, the whistles of this hooey-hooey person are quite safe! I shall guard them from the thievery, n'est pas?"

Oswald looked at his candy bar. "Uh, no, I think it's a Hershey's with almonds."

"What? Oh." The Inspector scowled. "Very droll, no doubt. But I am on the present job here! I shall not be frightened off by these whistles of death, as you call them."

"Oh, don't worry!" Oswald slipped into Library-Museum Person mode. "The whistles don't kill people. They're called Death Whistles because when you blow them, they make a noise like a woman screaming."

A horrifying scream came from the display case.

"Yeah, like that." Oswald's face fell. "Wait. Nobody was blowing those whistles..."

"Well, of course not! They are inside their glass box, as you can plainly see..."

"But then how did they make that noise?"

"Yes, that is a tricky one..." The Inspector pondered. "Perhaps some trapped air was inside them..."

"But that doesn't make any sense!"

"What?" The Inspector started, deeply offended. "Listen to me, you curly-tousled urchin waif, I shall tell you what does and does not make sense! You do not scare me with your talk of odd curses!"

There was a flash and suddenly the Inspector was gone. A duck-billed platypus wearing Inspector Clouseau's hat was there in his place. It waddled back and forth on top of the display case as it continued to talk in the Inspector's voice.

"I did not get to be the greatest detective in all of the world and France by being wrong about things! I am a trained observer, highly skilled in examining and deducing the truth from the evidence around me! Nothing escapes my well-trained eye! And if I say there was air trapped within the whistles..."

At that moment, Isaac returned with Inspector Clouseau's tea. "Uh, where's the Inspector?"

"What do you mean?" The platypus stood up on its hind legs. "I am right here standing in front of you, you swine!"

Isaac stared at the platypus in shock, then at Oswald, who quietly nodded. He cleared his throat.

"I... I've got your tea. Will you be paying cash or..."

The platypus sniffed. "Just put it on my bill."

Isaac looked from the tea to the platypus and back.

"Aw, go ahead," Oswald grinned. "You know you want to..."

As the Inspector pontificated and Isaac fought temptation, Oswald searched his pockets for the gadget to change him back.

#

Meanwhile, Omar and Julie were walking across the deck of the ship.

"I'm afraid we might not have any spare accommodations. But if you and your friends need to stay, I'm sure we can figure out something..."

"Oh, that's okay!" Omar assured her. "We'll just sleep in the van."

"The van?" Julie looked worried. "Oh, you don't need to do that, I'm sure we can arrange something more comfortable than that..."

"Oh, the van's quite comfortable. There's at least twenty guest rooms. We'll be fine!"

"Twenty guest rooms...?"

"Last I counted. That's just the first five floors, though. Oswald and I've been meaning to count the others but we've been busy."

"The first five floors?"

"The van's a lot bigger on the inside."

"It..." She stopped herself. "Do I really want to ask?"

"Probably not, no."

Julie shook her head. "Well, anyway, here's the gift shop," she opened the door. "Have fun!"

Omar looked around at the shelves of tacky merchandise, the cheap little toys and plastic gimcracks, the rack of overpriced tee-shirts and hoodies, the candy and magazine rack, and the little kid-shaped captain's hats, salivating. "Oh, I will! This is gonna be great!"

Julie stood on her toes and looked around. "I guess the clerk's in the back room. HOWARD?"

A three foot tall yellowish-white duck in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts emerged from the store room. "Yeah, sorry. Just putting the Tiki mugs away. What's going on?"

"Oh, hi Howard!" Julie smiled. "This young man's here to buy some souvenirs. So if you don't mind..."

Omar stared, a half-smile frozen on his face. "You... You're a duck!" He thought a second. "Waitaminute. Are you supposed to be a duck?"

The duck sighed. "Are we gonna get into theology here? Yeah, I'm a duck. Y'wanna buy something?"

"Wait... You're a duck... Named Howard... YOU'RE HOWARD THE DUCK!"

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" Waddling behind the counter, Howard climbed up on a step stool and took his place behind the counter. "So, can I help you?"

A full grin spread across Omar's face. "Man, I loved your movie! I thought it was totally under-rated! And I found some of your old comics at a swap meet and..."

Julie, meanwhile, was standing there. "He is a duck. I can't believe I didn't notice that before. I mean, I knew he was short..."

Omar looked from Howard over to her. "Oh man, I hope I didn't get you in trouble..."

"No, no, it's fine. It's fine. Howard's fine. He does a good job." Julie shook her head. "I just can't believe I didn't notice... I'm going to go lie down for awhile..."

She wandered off.

"Well, that's good. Apparently I still have a job. I mean, this gig aint much but it's tough out there for an Avian American. So, you said you wanted some souvenirs?"

"Oh yeah!" Omar smiled with pure joy, looking around the store. "And can I get a selfie?"

Howard shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks! Hey, you wouldn't happen to know a kid named Otis, would you?"

#

"We don't have galley slaves."

Orla and Doc Bricker descended a metal staircase into the ship's engine room.

"I am relieved. I always felt it was a cruel practice."

Doc blinked, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "Nowadays, we have engines to power the ship. They're a lot like the engine in your van, but larger."

Orla nodded appreciatively. "The future is fascinating!"

"I'm sure it is. Down here are the engines that run the ship. I wish I could explain all the technical stuff but I'm a doctor, not a mechanic."

Doctor O appeared on the stairwell landing. "I am also a doctor, not a mechanic." She turned and disappeared into the shadows.

"Whuh... Wha...?"

"Do not concern yourself. Pray, continue. This is most instructive."

"Fine," Doc took a deep breath. "It's fine. Anyway, lemme turn on the lights so you can see the engines down below..."

He flipped on a light switch. The area below the metal landing where they stood was illuminated and they heard a woman's voice shouting down below.

"IN ALL MY TIME AS PRIESTESS OF THE WHIP I HAVE NEVER WITNESSED SUCH UNMITIGATED SLOTH!" The woman in the leather bodice strutted back and forth on the catwalk, snapping her bull whip at the chained women below her. "NOW ROW! ROW FASTER, WRETCHES, IF YOU VALUE YOUR WORTHLESS HIDES!"

Orla looked doubtfully over at Doc Bricker. "I thought you said you no longer had galley slaves."

"We... usually don't..." Doc's eyes started from their sockets as a lascivious smile spread across his face. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you..." He adjusted his glasses and tie and slicked back his hair. "I wonder if she'd be interested in dating a slightly older man..."

"No matter," Orla pulled out a gadget. "This clearly is not meant to be here..."

"Yeah, but it is definitely meant to be!" He produced some breath-spray and spritzed the inside of his mouth. "I wonder if Dear Abby approves of two-career marriages..."

Orla fired her gadget. Just as Doc Bricker began to descend the ladder toward the Priestess of The Whip, she vanished, along with the rest of the bizarre and definitely not kid-friendly scene below them. In its place, the ship's engines hummed placidly.

Sighing, Doc looked back up the ladder at the agent. "You're a real party-pooper, you know that, Orla?"

"Perhaps," Orla responded. "But at least now I know what I want to be when I grow up."

#

"So, this isn't the right Earth either."

"I'm afraid not," Osmerelda told the young man and his friends. "This is the universe where you"re a TV show. You want the universe where WE'RE a TV show."

She took the timer device from his hand and made a few adjustments.

"Careful with that. We need it to slide between worlds."

"Here, that should do it." She pointed the timer and fired it. A vortex opened up in front of her.

"Okay, girl," the middle-aged, slightly disheveled man in the group told her. "But if we end up being chased by dinosaurs again..."

Osmerelda handed back the timer and watched as, one by one, they leapt into the vortex.

"Bye, you guys! Good luck!"

The vortex closed. Then Osmerelda saw another flash from another portal opening.

"Aw man, not again..."

Sighing, she dutifully trotted over to encounter an old man, a boy, and a strange-looking robot looking around in confusion.

"William? Have we made it home? Where are we? I'm afraid to look!"

"I don't know, Doctor Smith. It looks like some sort of underground parking garage..."

A resonant voice came from the robot. "ACCORDING-TO-MY-READOUTS-WE-ARE-ON-EARTH-SOMETIME-IN-THE-EARLY TWENTY-FIRST-CENTURY."

"Earth?" The old man uncovered his eyes. "We're on Earth?"

"Let's make sure it's the right Earth, Doctor Smith. We don't want another mix-up." He looked around. "First, we'd better find out where exactly we are..."

Osmerelda stepped forward. "Hi! You're in the hold of the cruise ship The Pacific Princess!"

"The Pacific Princess?" The old man's face contorted in horror. "No! I didn't spend all these years traversing the galaxy with this addle-pated android and that sanctimonious family only to wind up as a guest-star on THE LOVE BOAT!"

"Calm down, Doctor Smith!" The boy urged his companion. "Maybe she can help us!"

Doctor Smith hid behind the boy, not easy since he was at least a foot taller. "Don't trust her, William! She looks villainous!"

"She's a little girl, Doctor Smith."

"Little girls can be treacherous!" He peeked out from behind the boy's shoulder. "I know! I remember from grammar school..."

The boy rolled his eyes. Then he addressed Osmerelda. "Listen. My name is Will Robinson. I'm part of the Jupiter Two expedition to Alpha Centauri. I need to contact Alpha Control..."

Osmerelda frowned. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The 1999 space mission to Alpha Centauri. I know our ship is believed lost in space but we're all still alive and I need to contact..."

Osmerelda puzzled. "I'm really sorry, but I don't know anything about any space missions in 1999. And that sounds like something I would have heard about."

"SHE-IS-CORRECT-WILL-ROBINSON!" a voice boomed from the robot. "MY-SENSORS-INDICATE-THIS-IS-ANOTHER-ALTERNATE-TIMELINE!"

"Another alternate timeline?" Doctor Smith wailed. "I can't take it any more! That cantankerous alien device we found has thrown us hither and yon across realities like a rubber ball! And never once have we landed on our proper world!"

"It's all right, Doctor Smith. We can just go back to the ship and try again."

"Back there? But I simply can't abide returning to that desolate planet once more!" He brightened. "Why not stay here? It is an Earth, after all, if not the Earth we know! We can build new lives here! I could get a job teaching in a space academy, you can go crusade to free the buffalo or something..."

"We can't do that, Doctor Smith. We're not going to leave the rest of my family stranded on another planet."

"BESIDES-WE-DO-NOT-HAVE-THE-OPTION." The Robot extended and contracted its bubble head. "ALREADY-I-FEEL-THE-ALIEN-DEVICE-DRAWING-US-BACK."

"Oh, no, no! I won't go back! Not agai..."

The trio vanished. Osmerelda waved goodbye to them.

"Sorry, guys. Hope you find your way home."

She opted to leave before any more dimensional vortexes opened.

#

Going up the steps back to the deck, she met Oswald coming down.

"Oh, hey! So, is the van okay?"

"Safe and sound in the hold! And the Death Whistles?"

"They're being guarded. They should be all right."

His head turned into a squirrel's head.

"Except they keep doing that. Would you mind?"

Osmerelda zapped him with a gadget. His head went back to normal.

"Okay, so we gotta keep on our toes to keep the oddness under control so the passengers don't freak out..."

As they discussed strategies, they heard singing coming from four wooden barrels tucked away in the shadows.

"Sweet Adeline... My Adeline..."

Oswald read the words stenciled on the barrels. "Kippered herring?"

Osmerelda, meanwhile, went over and knocked on one of the barrels. "Hey, guys? Sorry to ask, big fan, but could you maybe do this some other time? We're gonna be kinda busy already and..."

A friendly voice came from one barrel. "Sure thing, little lady! We-a wait for another time, okay?"

A horn honked in another barrel.

"Fine!" A snide voice sneered from yet another barrel. "But in that case, YOU gotta make love to Margaret Dumont! And I sure don't envy you! She's got breath like a lion at feeding time!"

Osmerelda turned to the last barrel. "Zeppo?"

"They didn't write me a line. They never write me a line."

Oswald patted the barrels. "Okay, guys! Thanks!" Then to Osmerelda as they were walking away. "Margaret Dumont wasn't even IN that movie!"

Osmerelda shrugged. "Yeah..."

"Didn't I warn you about this guy? He's all over the place again..."

#

TO BE CONTINUED...