(Section 9)
-Loki is sitting on a stool in the bar, crying like a little baby. A mug of beer is in his hand, and seems to be more full of water than beer. The pounds and moans from upstairs have taken on a distinctly Gaelic tone. Every time the upstairs pair crescendos, Loki lets out a wail of sorrow. Mike Hammer behind the bar is wearing a heavy raincoat and thick galoshes, non-urine stained. He is feeding Loki more mugs from time to time. A puddle is spreading from under Loki's stool. Red comes in holding a mop-
R: Loki, this is the fourth time I've had to mop up that puddle. What is wrong? And why do I keep thinking about Bing Crosby?
L: It's Velma and Gord. They're doing "Danny Boy" up there. It's my super- weakness. I can't fight its haunting melody.
R: How Irish can you get, Loki?
L: How Irish do you want me to be?
-Stone enters, looking very harried. He plops down at the bar-
L: Hey, Mike. You'd better prepare a double sassperilla for our British friend.
S: Actually, I like a Schlitz Light, please.
L: Huh?
R: What?
S: I do drink on occasion. And especially when I've just one of the most harrowing experiences of my life.
L: What?
S: I just fought my way out of Harold's secret underground lair. I probably would never have found it, but Harold had the audacity to have the entrance leading from his bedroom closet. The sign reading, "Fred and Mr. Stone, that is not the entrance to my secret lair. Love and Signed, Harold" was a dead giveaway. Also the chanting of the Lodge members lead me right to them. They were going:
"HAIL HYDRA
IMMORTAL HYDRA
WE SHALL NEVER BE DESTROYED
CUT OFF ONE LIMB AND TWO MORE SHALL TAKE Its PLACE"
R: I was wondering why Harold was taking all the Lodge members up there. I'm actually very relieved.
S: Mr. Green, I do find it rather difficult to conceive that a 10-story, concrete reinforced underground bunker with laser security systems, keypad- coded titanium doors, and a giant boulder could be constructed and go unnoticed under your very beard.
R: That's ridiculous. I am not that dense, I…oh look, the floor. I couldn't see it through my beard.
S: Yeeeeeeessss…that is immaterial. It appears that our dear Harold is blossoming as a true super-villain. He is still shaky in his delivery and demeanor, but once he has the laugh down, we know that he must be stopped. I knew he was reaching for high goals when I saw he had "Fearless Leader" stenciled on the back of his chair. He also had a message on his answering machine from someone named Boris from Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. Wanted some missiles sent UPS to blow up a moose and a squirrel. I never thought Harold was into poaching.
-Harold enters, looking very confident. He is smoking a thin cigarette, and is holding his other hand as if he were holding a wine glass-
L: Harold? What's with the limp wrist?
H: I'm practicing my proper British dialect.
L: For the bad dialect contest? You sound dumber than Stone with that faux accent.
H: Mr. Stone, will you be ready to film our next scene in the physical fitness regiment?
S: Ready anytime.
H: Excellent. I will inform your executioners, er, I mean, the participants that you will be arriving shortly. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA…um…cough, cough…heehohuhiha...
S: Harold…you are not planning anything…treacherous, are you?
-Stone stares hard at Harold. He begins to sweat, and his voice cracks-
H: EEP! Huho! Uncle Red, you got that mop handy?
R: Harold, you should have worn more absorbent underwear. Actually, I would prefer you wore more underwear, period.
H: Just you wait, Stone! My foreign assassins will make mincemeat out of you! Farewell until then!
-He scampers off, literally-
S: Yeeeeesssss…Excuse me for a moment, please. I need to use the facilities. Harold's attempts at melodramatic threats are making me nauseous.
L: There he goes again, getting all the attention, and leaving me in the dirt.
R: Loki? Why is it exactly that you hate Stone so much?
L: It not that I hate him so much, although from time to time that's true. He can be useful from time to time. He's the one constant in my universe. The thing is, the universe always bends to accommodate him, usually at someone's expense.
R: That's ridiculous. No one has that kind of luck. In fact, I have five bucks that says you can't prove that.
L: I'll raise you ten.
R: I know you too well for that, Loki. I've stick to five.
L: Damn. Fine, Red, pick any glass from the bar. Any glass at all. The shoddier the better.
-Red reaches behind himself blindly, not even looking at what he is selecting. When he pulls back, he knocks several other glasses off the shelf. They shatter on the floor-
R: How's this?
L: Perfect. What does this remind you of?
R: Reminds me of the glass I got my jelly out of this morning. My wife got for fifty cents at a garage sale.
L: You got ripped off. Would you mind if I gave it to Stone?
R: Go right ahead.
-Stone has reentered, wiping his hands dry-
L: Stone?
S: Yes, Loki?
L: Here ya go. A present from Red
S: Is this…it is! Loki! This is a genuine piece of priceless Waterford crystal! See the maker's symbol on the bottom? This is amazing! I have an almost complete collection at home. This will finish it! Thank you ever so much!
-Stone rushes out of the room again. Red looks back to see what was once his Waterford crystal collection is nothing but shards of glass strewn about the floor-
R: Mr. Stone! That's mine!
L: Don't bother. It's gone now.
R: What do you mean?
L: Three words. Howie, Screwem, and Howel.
R: Oh yeah. It is a sad day when the epitome of truth and honor is backed by a corporate syndicate of bench pirates.
L: That also have the laugh down to an art form.
R: What is with this laugh?
L: It's quite simple, Red. The maniacal laugh is the final stage of a villain's growth. Every level of villain uses the laugh.
-Stone is back-
R: There are levels?
S: Certainly. Harold is an aspiring type A villain. This is the megalomaniac tyrant who wants to dominate and/or destroy the world.
L: Type B is the run-of-the-mill mafia boss.
S: Type C is the local public nuisance.
R: And type D?
L and S: Politicians.
R: They all use the laugh?
L: Yup. It goes like this. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! (Stone has a gun pointed at Loki's face) Eep.
R: Holy shit! That's a Colt Python! That's the most powerful handgun ever made!
S: Oh dear. I am sorry, Loki. Force of habit. Oh, silly me. I had the safety off.
L: Red, you got that mop handy?
R: I've never seen anything like that up close. Could I have a closer look at that?
S: I suppose so. Here you are.
CLUNK
R: I can't even lift this off the floor? What's thing made of?
S: The gun is perfectly normal. It's the bullets that are unusual.
R: What are they made of? Titanium?
S: Depleted uranium, actually.
R: WHAT! A normal Python shell will go through an engine block!
S: Yes, and these will go through something that can tear an engine block apart with its bare hands.
R: I don't want to know.
L: You get used to it.
S: Oh, Loki. Do you have anything to protect yourself?
L: I'm always armed with my cunning mind and sharp wit.
S: I'd better give you a gun. Here you are.
-Stone hands Loki a thing resembling a giant cigarette lighter with a trigger. Loki eyes the name of the model-
L: Noisy Cricket?
S: I picked it up from some gentlemen named Jay. He wouldn't give his full name.
L: Stone? Why is this thing beeping red?
-Stone flicks a tiny switch, and the light turns green-
S: Ah, that's better.
L: What happened?
S: This gun was designed to fit my grip precisely. Now it is suited to yours.
L: If I had fired beforehand?
S: It would have blown your hand off.
L: Really. FREEEEED…!
R: Say, where is Fred? I haven't seen him around in this chapter.
S: I don't know, and I can't say I'm disappointed. If you two would excuse me, I need to make a telephone call to the FBI.
-Loki has jumped out of his chair, and is frantically looking for exits from the room-
L: FBI?! What for? How soon will they be here?
S: No need to get overexcited, Loki. Most likely whatever friends you have in the Bureau would not be assigned to an op in this place. RING RING Hello. Extension 3678, please…Is this Clarice? Well hello Clarice…
-He exits on his cell phone-
L: I really wish he wouldn't do that.
R: Ya know, he really does sound like that guy in the Silence of the Sheep.
L: I never get used to that no matter how many times he does it.
R: Loki? Where's the mop?
L: I don't know. I'd like to shove it up Fred's anus. I really wish I wasn't about to ask this, but; where is Fred.
H(reentering): He won't be here for a while. He is in the process of filming a first-person perspective documentary of the Canadian Health Care System. Where is Stone?
L: He's making a phone call to the FBI.
H: The FBI? Really? I'm a federal case! I've arrived! I mean…how nice. He must have a ladyfriend in the department.
L: Not likely.
R: What does that mean?
L: You'll find out later in the chapter.
H: When he's finished with his call, could you send him to Red's workshop? The next scene is ready to film.
L: Yeah…Red, you'd better get to makeup.
R: We don't use makeup on this show.
L: Darn, I was hoping you just had a bad lighting guy.
-The workshop. A place that would be described as a major health hazard on its best day. Loose saw blades and heavy tools are everywhere one can see. Duct tape holds highly unstable projects together, ready to collapse at the slightest air current. Everyone who is not otherwise occupied with either grievous injuries or primal lust is present. Loki has supplied Daphne with a cattle prod to ward off the Lodge members. Loki is leaning against the wall laughing at the feral fury with which she fries the dirty old men. Harold is outfitting Stone with radio transmitter that will adjust the cameras to follow his every move. Stone is too busy regarding his "opponents" to protest. A fat Korean, a large German, and a really tall Russian guy with metal teeth-
H: Are we ready? ACTION!
R: We have a special presentation on the show today. Once again, Philo Stone will give a demonstration on self-defense. I have brought in who Harold says are three distant nephews of mine to assist in the activity. I have here Mr. Oddjob Jones, Mr. Jaws Jones, and Mr. Heinrich Jones.
S: That is very strange, considering that one is Korean, one is German, and the tall one appears to have swallowed a lawn mower. Mr. Green, didn't you say you were Scottish?
R: I told you we don't talk about that!
S: Yeeeesss…would any of you fellows be related to a Fred Jones?
All 3: NO!!!!!!!
S: How unfortunate…that would have relieved any guilt about inflicting injury upon you.
R: So here we are on my…Harold, wouldn't it have been better to do this in a gym somewhere with padding and open space?
H: Of course not! True unfairly balanced assaults, I mean, true self- defense takes place in the real world, with obstacles, and hindrances that can be used dishonorably as weaponry! Mr. Stone! Before we begin, would you please remove any supplemental implements that might lessen the already unfair advantage I have stacked against you! I mean…you know what I mean!
S: Oh, very well. If you don't mind holding my tools, Mr. Green?
H: Certainly.
-Out of a seemingly bottomless pit in his trousers, Stone piles into Harold's arms: a Ruger Mk II, Colt .45, SIG-Sauer P220, Makarov, Beretta 92F, CZ75, Steyr GB, Luger, Tokarev TT-33, Rodom wz 35, Detonics Pocket 9, Browning DA, Walther P5, Glock 21, Smith and Wesson 4506…-
H: ARE YOU QUITE FINISHED?
S: Just one more thing.
-…a rubber chicken-
H: A rubber chicken? A RUBBER CHICKEN! All this time I thought I thought you were rugged, stalwart monument to justice and strength! A powerful vision of human achievement and independent action! But a rubber chicken! What else do you have? A pacifier? A security blankie? A stuffed tiger you swear is alive?
S: I will have you know that there have been many times that the only thing keeping me from the clutches of death has been my rubber chicken.
H: But how? How could such an inane gag toy be the final wall between you and your demise? I demand to know!
S: You want me to show you?
H: Yes.
S: Are you sure?
H: YES!
WUNK
H: Ooooohhhh…I see…a rubber chicken filled with cement.
S: Lead shot, actually. I've found it conforms to the head better. Thanks for that tip, Loki.
L: Anytime. You don't want to see what I taught him to do with a tomato.
H: No, I suppose I don't. Could we just begin the scene, please?
-With a final quick look behind him at his assailants, I mean assistants, and a glance-over of the area of the workshop, Stone commences-
S: As the younger Mr. Green stated, the true placing of a self-defense situation is unknowable. And most often, it comes on one most unexpectedly…
-POW! Heinrich clocks Stone in the back of the head in mid-sentence. Slightly dazed, the German throws him into a workbench. As Jaws charges in from the side, Stone ducks down and stands up fast just as Jaws is on top of him, sending the metal miscreant hurtling into Oddjob, approaching from the other side-
S: As has been so dutifully illustrated here.
-Heinrich is moving in front the front in a boxing posture, ready to fight-
S: But as Harold was so kind to remind me of, one is never truly alone in battle.
-Stone scoops up a handful of sawdust, and flings it in the German's eyes. Heinrich stops for a moment to clear his vision-
S: One's environment can be one's best friend.
-Stone rushes the blinded German, lifts him like a professional wrestler, and slams him onto his knee. Heinrich lays bent on the ground-
S: Advantages can be found in all places…
-Jaws and Oddjob have recovered, and are advancing fast. Stone grabs an obviously often-used fire extinguisher from the wall as Jaws swings his fist as Stone's face. Stone quickly brings the extinguisher in line with Jaws' hand, and sickening CRUNCH can be heard from Jaws' broken knuckles. Stone ducks down and slams the extinguisher into Jaws' groin, and uppercuts him under the chin with an upward swing-
S: …If one knows where to look for them.
-Oddjob, deciding not to deal with Stone hand-to-hand, flings his deadly derby at Stone's face. Stone moves aside, and catches the hat by shooting his fist inside the brim. Spinning, Stone returns fire, embedding the derby in Oddjob's chest-
S: And I would like to extend my personal thanks to Mr. Harold Green for selecting this location. In we had done this presentation in a more sterile environment; there is a very good chance I might have been beaten.
H: CURSES! I mean, cut!
S: Was that satisfactory, Mr. Green?
H: I didn't expect you to satisfy me, Stone. I expected you to DIE! Henchmen! Get him! Henchmen…?
-All the Lodge members have vanished-
L: Chapter 5, Page 87, Harold. Never give your enemy or your henchmen an opportunity to escape.
H: What?
L: You must not have gotten to that chapter yet. Never mind.
-Fred straggles into the workshop. He has a broken leg, and is hobbling on crutches-
F: There you all are! It's time for me to shoot my scene! Daphne! I have a malt for you! Velma! Gather the bearded amateur and move your overweight chunky butt! I need him for this next scene! I told you once already not to hang around this third-rate riffraff show! It will lower your already non- existent standards! Now, Let's Go, Gang!
H: Mr. Stone…you are aware that I have been plotting your demise since you arrived, and will relentlessly continue to seek to destroy you afterward, but…could I borrow that rubber chicken?
S: Even though you are an aspiring super-villain, and I will have to bust up your operation later…I can't say no.
H: Thanks, Mr. Stone.
WUNK
F: OW! My pituitary gland!
-Outside. Handyman Corner-
R: Hello again, folks. Welcome a hopefully more successful edition of Handyman Corner. Since I am under a legal injunction from going anywhere near that bi-plane, we're going to do some auto detailing on this Lamborghini Diablo. This being an Italian car, no one is going to miss it. So we start with our tools, a car key, and the handyman's secret weapon, duct tape. I shouldn't have anything to worry about, since the owner of this car makes it a point to not have any dealings with anyone in the law industry…oh my. The red dot that has just appeared on my chest is part of a laser scope that seems to be attached to a Parker Hale Model 85 sniper rifle. Those guns can have an 85 percent hit probability up to 800 meters.
L: 900.
H: 900 meters. And considering that the dot is moving further down my body, I'm going to just slowly move away from the car. But first, I'm going to gather the roll of duct tape that I've dropped.
PING
R: Oh wow. That was a great shot, Loki. You took my belt buckle right off.
L: Damn. I missed.
R: Oh. Where's that mop?
-Out in front of the Lodge, Fred is prepping for his scene-
F: For those of you that are not used to film style, I tend to shoot my episodes non-chronologically. So we will be filming the capture scene where we turn over the ghost to the police.
R: Mmmmpnnnphhhh
-Red has been tied and gagged-
F: Now, Dalton, you will be playing the police officer that takes the culprit away. Do you have your line down?
Da: Kids without thanks done have you not could we it.
F: NO! You will destroy my vision! It goes, "Thanks kids, we couldn't have done it without you!" Then you haul off the Phlatulent Phantom! Now, Red, do you have your line?
R: MMMMMHHHHH!!!!
F: What was that?
-Fred pulls off Red's gag-
R: What the fuck are you trying to do to me, Fred?
F: All wrong! You are the most difficult villain I've ever dealt with! Your line is, "And I would have gotten away with it, too; if it hadn't been for you meddling kids!" All the others got it right! Where is Daphne?
-Daphne is laying comatose over a chair-
F: Oh, there she is. Velma, hold on to her during on this shot. It will be easier to do a middle shot and get you both at once.
V: With pleasure.
F: All right everyone! Places! Take one! ACTION!
-Fred stands up straight and puffs out his chest as best he can up his crutches-
F: So, officer, as you can see, it was Red Green who was terrorizing the swamp as the Phlatulent Phantom!
Da: Thanks kids, we couldn't have done it without me!
F: Ah! CUT!
H: Fred, allow me to show them how it's done.
F: Velma! Get back to your place! I didn't say could…
-PLOP Harold shoves Fred over a table-
F: OW! My pancreas!
H: Enough of the airhead! Camera grip number 1! Raise the camera angle three degrees! Light grip! Lower the tint! Everybody get out of that goddamn straight line! All right! Fred! Get on your good foot and get back over here! Daphne! You just stay on my shoulder. Oh, watch the drool, honey. FRED! Get over here! Good. Now, Uncle Red, you're not being convincing as a captured villain. Now Fred, motivate him. Grab a hold of his arm. Twist. No, harder. Harder. Make him scream.
CRACK
R: AAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!
H: Yes! Yes! That's it! Red, you're a little too purple. Don't hold your breath so much. Look angry, not so much in pain. Yes, that's it! The glowing red eyes are perfect! Places! Take two!
R: Gggggrrrr…
H: Say your line, Uncle Red.
R: YYYAAAAAAA!!!
H: No! Your line! With feeling!
R: AND I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT IF HAD NOT BEEN FOR YOU MEDDLING KIDS!!!
H: Perfect! CUT! That's a print!
R: Harold…may I have that rubber chicken, please?
H: Sure, Uncle Red.
WUNK
H: FROINLAVEN! What did you hit ME for?
R: You were closest. And when did you start channeling Jerry Lewis? Oh, Fred?
WUNK
F: OW! My cerebrum!
R: This thing comes in awfully handy. I'll hold on to this for a while.
F: When I can see straight, we'll move right along. Velma got two scenes, I get two scenes. Bring Velma! It's time to film the finding of the final clue!
H: He'll find something all right.
-Fred, Harold, and what can loosely be described as Daphne are now positioned in the second story hallway of the Lodge. Velma and Gord's room is right next to them-
F: Velma!
H: It's Harold! And WHAT?
F: Huh?
H: Speak up!
F: What are they doing now?
H: Whoops, I did it again! Of course, at this point, they've done it lots of times! Fred?
F: What?
H: How can we film with all this noise?
F: Just yell really loud! I'll edit out all the background noise!
H: Fine!
F: ACTION!
H: Do I really have to say it, Fred?
F: YES!
H: You fuckin' little…
F: What?
H: Nothing!
F: Start again!
H: Jinkies! Look, Fred! I've found a clue!
F: Excellent, Velma! Now stand aside so I can bask in all the glory!
V: You'll have to come over here to see it!
F: Where is it?
H: It's behind this door! Come on over here!
F: Behind this door here?
V: Yes! Now open it, and receive the glory you so richly deserve!
F: Hey look gang! It's aAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
H: Oh, did I forget to mention the staircase that I just happened to push you down?
WUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKETC…
-Fred bounces down the stairs until he can no longer be heard. Then a few seconds later, a strange noise can heard coming from above-
WUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKETC…
-Fred is now rolling down the stairs above the hallway, and rolls right past Harold's shocked gaze, down the stairs again, and finally coming to a rest with a loud THUD at the basement floor where he should have stopped the first time around-
H: I've never seen that happen before.
F: OW! My…Say, what is that?
H: I don't know. I've never seen that before. Should it be sticking out of your chest like that?
F: Look! A clue! I cassette tape with the title, "I did it. By Red Green"! Velma! Help me!
H: I think not, Fred! I have another scene to direct! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I love being a super-villain! Come, my limp love muffin!
-Harold runs off, with Daphne draped over his shoulder-
F: VELMA! DON"T LEAVE ME! I'M TOO IMPORTANT AND TOO GREAT A GENIUS TO DIE!!!
-A rope falls from the open door down to Fred-
Strange voice: Grab hold!
-Fred grasps the rope, and is pulled up. Before him is a short black man-
C: Hi, Mr. Jones! It's me! Gary Coleman! I'm here to star on your show!
F: Dabney Coleman! You're wearing your shoes on your knees, and covered your face in shoe polish! You still have your gray hair and moustache! Besides, Tim Conway did that bit better than you! I want Gary Coleman and that's final!
C: You're sure about this?
F: Absolutely.
C: All right.
-Coleman releases the rope-
F: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!
THUD
F: What's that gray stuff leaking onto the floor?
-Ask the Experts. Harold is at the question booth, holding the cards and looking even more confident than ever. The glass of champagne is now in his hand, and he is smoking a long thin cigarette. On the answer panel are Red, Loki, and Stone-
S: He looks awfully sure of himself. He must have hurt Fred again.
L: Yeah, I almost forgot he was wearing Velma's clothes. And how did he grow a Vincent Price moustache? It is better than the Hitler one.
H: (Now in a fully refined British dialect) Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Ask The…ha ha ha…Experts. A Question and Answer segment in which we attempt to get these three grown men to say the three words they should be quite accustomed to saying: I Don't Know. Allow me to introduce the three contestants. Mon oncle, Monsieur Rouge Vert. For those non- Francais layman, my uncle Red Green.
R: Howdy.
H: And to his immediate left, is the epitome of justice and honor. The steadfast protector of all that is good and just, and my now eternal arch enemy, Philosopher Stone.
S: Eternal Arch Enemy?
L: Your name is Philosopher Stone? Does J. K. Rowling know you?
H: The Philosopher Stone was a concept devised by alchemists. They wished to devise an element so pure that the entire universe would be compared against it.
L: Oh, how…fitting.
H: And lastly, we have this other guy. Larry Something or other.
L: That's Loki. Gwydion.
H: Whatever. Lewis Gorilla on the far end.
L: Monsieur Merde-Tete. Jusqu'a tu est protégé tres bien, regarde toi- meme.
H: GULP Let's begin, shall we? Our question is from Brian Skinner of Madison, Wisconson. He writes: Dear Experts, I have recently wed my high school sweetheart. I want to do everything I can possibly do to make her life with me a happy one, but I am at a loss. Since we both attended St. Brunhilda's Extremely Strict and Downright Militant Catholic School, I know very little about the facts of life. So my question to you is; How do…oooooo…how do…hhuuuuuu…how do you…FLAVENSCHITZEL…how do you pl…HOOOOOIIIIYYY!!!
L: Someone had better get that mop.
S: It's a pity. He was doing so well.
R: I'll take that. Go change your underwear. Please. The question is: How does a man please a woman?
L: WOOHOO!
R: Loki? What are you doing? I thought Harold looked ridiculous in that dress, but I've seen a new low with you dancing on the table like Pee Wee Herman. And where did you get those big white shoes?
L: Perhaps I vented that a bit strongly. But I got Stone! This is the one place he cannot possibly beat me! Tartarus, he couldn't even beat you, Red!
R: What? Do mean Stone…?
L: Has never left the pigpen. Still wearing the sock. Rocket never left the landing pad. Can't find the mushroom patch. Is without his pruning shears. Can't find the henhouse. Shall I go on?
R: That's quite enough to give me nightmares for days. Stone's a VIRGIN?
S: I simply don't believe in a personal commitment of that magnitude outside the bonds of marriage. It cheapens the act. And being in the position that I hold, I cannot make the commitment of marriage.
L: You ever wonder why he has the strength of ten men? It's because his heart is pure.
R: It's not pent-up sexual frustration?
S: Mr. Green, one that feels that he must make a promise to his wife of his prompt return after every episode should not speak of sexual problems.
L: Screw all that! It's my turn now! Now Brian, if you want to please that woman and turn her into a quivering bowl of jelly flesh, there's a very simple procedure. First, there's the look. A combination of cool detachment and animal desire. Look at her with a mild interest. Get her intrigued, but not afraid. Next comes the advance. Do so smoothly and slowly. Never too fast. Offer her some wine. Anything tasting like bacteria shit is right out. Offer some treats. Small things like strawberries and grapes. Fruit will be your best friend at this stage, but avoid pineapples at all costs. Trust me on this one. Begin contact with a massage of a nerve cluster. The thigh or behind the ear is ideal. When she begins to breathe heavy, move in deeper. Move to the chest or hips. Keep constant motion, and spit out as many corny lines as you can think of. At this stage, they work surprisingly well. The clothes should start to come off at this point. Maintain body-to-body contact and keep moving. Keep to key orifices, and make sure to look in the face from time to time to reassure her that she isn't just a clit. Keep this up in progressive cycles. Remember that wild monkey sex only works if you're both totally smashed. And most important, be sincere. And if you can't be sincere, fake it as best you can.
H: Ummmm…thank you Loki, for that remarkably graphic depiction. Uncle Red?
R: To keep it simple, I'll use generic terms. The act of sexual arousal is achieved by stimulation of specific nerve centers that communicate electrical sensory net signals to the multiple chemical centers of the brain. Achieved by said stimulation is a secretion of hormonal chemicals sent through adrenal glands and byways to the recipient collectors that provide lubrication and climaxation by way of a snuggy tingly warm feeling and blowing herself all over your shlong.
H: Do forget that there certain Eastern philosophies that have organized said stimulation into a scientific procedure consisting of activation of specific pressure points capable of reducing of woman to jell-o.
R: Oh yes. That was Sinanju, I believe. Hails from North Korea.
H: And taught by a man named Chuin. Sinanju consists of a 50 step method…
S: 52, actually.
H: Stone? You know Sinanju?
S: Certainly. Chuin was my martial arts instructor from age 6. I was taught the method of Sinanju, and had to take an exam at age 10.
R: What kind of exam?
S: Written, of course.
L: Darn, I was hoping it would be oral.
S: Yes, there are so many that claim to know the technique, but never give it its proper patience.
H: What do you mean?
S: The most prominent practitioner of Sinanju, Remo, would only go as far as step 11, then would jump to step thiry-seven.
L: What's thirty-seven?
S: Penetration.
R: How can you be so certain of your knowledge of Sinanju when you've never used.
S: I have used it.
H: What? How can that be? Aren't you a virgin?
S: Yes.
L: Then how can you have used them?
S: It's an interesting story. I was 16, and had been dispatched on a mission infiltrating the palace of Sheik Mozambique.
L: Ah yes! Akmed!
S: You know him, Loki?
L: I've…heard the name.
S: A popular misconception is that the harem is where the concubines are stored. The harem is in fact a receiving area for visiting nobility. The seraglio is fact the place where the concubines are found.
L: Ah shit! I was in the wrong room! No wonder it was full of rich old women! AH! Flashback! The fingers! The fingers!
S: Ahem…as I was saying, I had just escaped from the battle arena where prisoners are used as pieces in a lethal game of death, and needed a place to escape the rabid llamas and Doberman camels when I turned a corner and found myself surrounded by eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between the ages of sixteen and nineteen and a half. One named Zoot approached me and told me that I was in the Castle Anthrax. The Sheik was at a health care clinic in Switzerland for a severe case of overexertion. He had been gone a while, and they were getting restless. They had nearly had a chance to release their…tension with a young lad named Galahad, but some gay fellow named Lancelot ruined it.
L: AND?
S: And I relieved it using the Sinanju technique. I only made it through the first thirteen steps before they were all sufficiently satisfied.
L: You were sixteen, surrounded by 160 women, and you didn't DO ANYTHING!?
S: Of course not. That would have infringed on their personal dignity. A gentleman just doesn't do such things. They were all very good conversationalists. I still get Christmas cards from them all every year.
H: Mr. Stone? To clear up any confusion regarding the proper execution, would you possibly give a demonstration?
S: I suppose I could. The procedure begins by tapping the inside of the left wrist in time with the heart beat, then increasing the speed of the tapping. This tapping will increase the heart beat to 150 beats a minute. Next…Harold, would you please get that camera more than two inches from my face? Now as I was saying…
-Fred bursts in. He is nearly mummified in bandages-
F: That's it, everyone! Time's up! I need Velma for my next scene! Clear the floor everyone! It's MY time!
S: This has run long. I'll cut this short.
L: Ah! My notes! Fred! Do you realize what you've done! You've denied every man the greatest knowledge he could ever know! The way to reduce women to sexual slaves, dependent on your knowledge to grant them the ecstasy they can find nowhere else! Does this mean nothing to you?
F: Nothing.
-Fred goes, with film crew in tow-
L: That does it! That blonde bombdud has traversed a line even I wouldn't cross! He gonna DIE!
-Loki draws his gun and fires at Fred-
R: Loki, what kind of gun is that?
L: That's odd. It doesn't shoot bullets. It shoots miniature rockets.
R: Why is that rocket making a U-turn?
L: Oh silly me. I had it set on heat seeking. I must be way hotter than Fred. Hehehe…SHIT!
-The rocket stops inches from Loki's face. It makes a beeping noise-
Rocket: SCANNING
L: What?
Ro: BRUNETTE
L: Oh no.
Ro: NOT AS TALL
L: Not this.
Ro: NOT AS BROAD SHOULDERED
L: Help.
Ro: AND DEFINITELY NOT AS GOOD
-Stone snatches the rocket from mid-air and disarms it-
L: What just happened?
S: My ammunition is specially designed to not harm me. We look so much alike, you must have confused it. Momentarily, at least. That's very lucky of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to continue my search for my agents. I'm quite surprised. One of them hasn't left his post in years, and the other is always close to the Scooby gang.
L: That is the final straw. First Daphne, then Harold, now a fucking smart- ass bomb. The next person that makes any comparisons between Stone and me is going to get creamed with my titanium baseball bat.
-Handyman Corner. Again-
R: Hello folks, and welcome to what I hope is the final edition of Handyman corner on this episode. I have a restraining order about touching the plane, and a desire for self-preservation about touching the car. So what we'll do this time is turn this horribly ugly green van reading "Mystery Machine" into a convertible. I don't think anyone will miss it. Mr. Stone! Loki! What did I do this time?
S: We weren't about to stand by and watch you tear apart the Mystery Machine with a hacksaw and duct tape.
L: It just wouldn't be right.
R: Then, what should…
S: Here, use this chainsaw instead.
R: What? You WANT me to destroy this van?
S: Absolutely. There's more to that van than can be seen. I want it dismantled. There's a mystery to that machine, and I intend to find out what it is.
-Later, outside the lodge. Loki is standing near the edge of the swamp, attempting to light a roach. He is flicking his finger in the fashion of a lighter-
L: 98…flick…99…flick…100 steps.
-FWOOSH Loki's thumb tip has lit on fire-
L: ALL RIGHT! I'm out of range of Stone's null magic field.
Strange voice: Excuse me.
L: Yes? GAH!
-A large man wearing a hockey mask is looming over him-
L: Dude…Crystal Lake is that way. This is Possum Swamp.
Hockey guy: Yes, I know. I'm from Thugs R Us. My other associates and myself are on assignment to administer a lethal beating to a Philo Stone.
L: There are more of you?
-Four more emerge from the swamp-
L: Hey, I recognize you guys! You're the starting line of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Here I thought you were petty thugs, brigands, and riffraff. But no, you're PROFESSIONAL thugs, brigands, and riffraff!
Hockey guy: We need to do something in the off-season. So we joined Thugs R Us.
L: Thugs R Us. I dealt with you guys before. Is Maureen still your receptionist?
HG: Actually, no. She's on maternity leave. Jenny's there now.
L: I haven't met her. Perhaps I can meet her the next time I go in to complain on your shoddy performance.
HG: We're actually rookies. We've never dealt with someone of Stone's caliber. Would you mind of we practiced on you first? You are about the same size, and you look like a pushover.
L: Drat! Not a close enough comparison. All right, fellas. Let's do this thing. Finally I get some glory.
-The five hockey hulks spread into a circle to take out Loki. Before anyone can move, Loki looks one right in the eye-
L: Hemerroids sure are a pain in the ass, aren't they?
-The guy grabs at his butt, and falls to the ground-
-The next one moves in, hockey stick held high. Loki leaps onto him and tears off his mask-
L: Take Advil for extreme migrane headaches.
-The guy falls, clutching at his head and gritting his teeth. Loki moves immediately to the next one and slides through his legs-
L: How is that gonorrhea coming along?
-The next one falls in pain. Loki barely ducks a swing at his head from behind-
L: That was cheap. I'll have some fun with you. Ever wonder what it's like to have PMS?
-The assailant screams and falls to the dirt. The original one is left-
L: So mister rookie, what I do with you?
-Loki picks up a discarded hockey stick, and twirls it with expert precision-
L: I'm surprised no one ever does this in a game.
-Loki swings the stick straight up between the guy's legs. The guy's eyes start to tear, and he cannot breathe-
L: Uh oh. Maybe that was excessive. Oh, no wonder. The end is…oh my. I'd better get that out of there.
SNAP
L: Oops. You'd better go find a proctologist.
CLAP CLAP CLAP
-Shaggy and Scooby are applauding Loki's performance with the glassy eyed gaze of a pot junkie-
L: Shaggy! Scooby! How long have been standing there? Why didn't you give me a hand?
Sc: Re rare.
L: Funny.
Sh: We found something you'll like.
L: What?
Sh: We found where Harold stashed the weed.
L: You did? Let's go get it!
Sh: Not so fast.
L: Oh, what now?
Sh: Talk to my agent.
L: How much, Scooby?
Sc: Reventy.
L: Seventy! That's outrageous! I won't pay it!
Sh: Then no smokey smoke.
L: So it's seventy for me and thirty for you, right?
Sc: Rong.
L: Oh, you mean thirty for you, and seventy for me.
Sc: Right.
L: Well okay then. Let's go.
Sh: Hey! Wait a minute!
L: Ree hee hee hee!
SO NOW THAT THE STONER TRIO HAS FOUND WHAT THEY WANT, WHAT WILL THEY DO? WHAT OTHER INJURIES CAN BE INFLICTED UPON FRED? WILL WE GET TO SEE STONE'S SINANJU TECHNIQUE? AND JUST WHAT MAKES POKEMON SO POPULAR?
-Loki is sitting on a stool in the bar, crying like a little baby. A mug of beer is in his hand, and seems to be more full of water than beer. The pounds and moans from upstairs have taken on a distinctly Gaelic tone. Every time the upstairs pair crescendos, Loki lets out a wail of sorrow. Mike Hammer behind the bar is wearing a heavy raincoat and thick galoshes, non-urine stained. He is feeding Loki more mugs from time to time. A puddle is spreading from under Loki's stool. Red comes in holding a mop-
R: Loki, this is the fourth time I've had to mop up that puddle. What is wrong? And why do I keep thinking about Bing Crosby?
L: It's Velma and Gord. They're doing "Danny Boy" up there. It's my super- weakness. I can't fight its haunting melody.
R: How Irish can you get, Loki?
L: How Irish do you want me to be?
-Stone enters, looking very harried. He plops down at the bar-
L: Hey, Mike. You'd better prepare a double sassperilla for our British friend.
S: Actually, I like a Schlitz Light, please.
L: Huh?
R: What?
S: I do drink on occasion. And especially when I've just one of the most harrowing experiences of my life.
L: What?
S: I just fought my way out of Harold's secret underground lair. I probably would never have found it, but Harold had the audacity to have the entrance leading from his bedroom closet. The sign reading, "Fred and Mr. Stone, that is not the entrance to my secret lair. Love and Signed, Harold" was a dead giveaway. Also the chanting of the Lodge members lead me right to them. They were going:
"HAIL HYDRA
IMMORTAL HYDRA
WE SHALL NEVER BE DESTROYED
CUT OFF ONE LIMB AND TWO MORE SHALL TAKE Its PLACE"
R: I was wondering why Harold was taking all the Lodge members up there. I'm actually very relieved.
S: Mr. Green, I do find it rather difficult to conceive that a 10-story, concrete reinforced underground bunker with laser security systems, keypad- coded titanium doors, and a giant boulder could be constructed and go unnoticed under your very beard.
R: That's ridiculous. I am not that dense, I…oh look, the floor. I couldn't see it through my beard.
S: Yeeeeeeessss…that is immaterial. It appears that our dear Harold is blossoming as a true super-villain. He is still shaky in his delivery and demeanor, but once he has the laugh down, we know that he must be stopped. I knew he was reaching for high goals when I saw he had "Fearless Leader" stenciled on the back of his chair. He also had a message on his answering machine from someone named Boris from Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. Wanted some missiles sent UPS to blow up a moose and a squirrel. I never thought Harold was into poaching.
-Harold enters, looking very confident. He is smoking a thin cigarette, and is holding his other hand as if he were holding a wine glass-
L: Harold? What's with the limp wrist?
H: I'm practicing my proper British dialect.
L: For the bad dialect contest? You sound dumber than Stone with that faux accent.
H: Mr. Stone, will you be ready to film our next scene in the physical fitness regiment?
S: Ready anytime.
H: Excellent. I will inform your executioners, er, I mean, the participants that you will be arriving shortly. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA…um…cough, cough…heehohuhiha...
S: Harold…you are not planning anything…treacherous, are you?
-Stone stares hard at Harold. He begins to sweat, and his voice cracks-
H: EEP! Huho! Uncle Red, you got that mop handy?
R: Harold, you should have worn more absorbent underwear. Actually, I would prefer you wore more underwear, period.
H: Just you wait, Stone! My foreign assassins will make mincemeat out of you! Farewell until then!
-He scampers off, literally-
S: Yeeeeesssss…Excuse me for a moment, please. I need to use the facilities. Harold's attempts at melodramatic threats are making me nauseous.
L: There he goes again, getting all the attention, and leaving me in the dirt.
R: Loki? Why is it exactly that you hate Stone so much?
L: It not that I hate him so much, although from time to time that's true. He can be useful from time to time. He's the one constant in my universe. The thing is, the universe always bends to accommodate him, usually at someone's expense.
R: That's ridiculous. No one has that kind of luck. In fact, I have five bucks that says you can't prove that.
L: I'll raise you ten.
R: I know you too well for that, Loki. I've stick to five.
L: Damn. Fine, Red, pick any glass from the bar. Any glass at all. The shoddier the better.
-Red reaches behind himself blindly, not even looking at what he is selecting. When he pulls back, he knocks several other glasses off the shelf. They shatter on the floor-
R: How's this?
L: Perfect. What does this remind you of?
R: Reminds me of the glass I got my jelly out of this morning. My wife got for fifty cents at a garage sale.
L: You got ripped off. Would you mind if I gave it to Stone?
R: Go right ahead.
-Stone has reentered, wiping his hands dry-
L: Stone?
S: Yes, Loki?
L: Here ya go. A present from Red
S: Is this…it is! Loki! This is a genuine piece of priceless Waterford crystal! See the maker's symbol on the bottom? This is amazing! I have an almost complete collection at home. This will finish it! Thank you ever so much!
-Stone rushes out of the room again. Red looks back to see what was once his Waterford crystal collection is nothing but shards of glass strewn about the floor-
R: Mr. Stone! That's mine!
L: Don't bother. It's gone now.
R: What do you mean?
L: Three words. Howie, Screwem, and Howel.
R: Oh yeah. It is a sad day when the epitome of truth and honor is backed by a corporate syndicate of bench pirates.
L: That also have the laugh down to an art form.
R: What is with this laugh?
L: It's quite simple, Red. The maniacal laugh is the final stage of a villain's growth. Every level of villain uses the laugh.
-Stone is back-
R: There are levels?
S: Certainly. Harold is an aspiring type A villain. This is the megalomaniac tyrant who wants to dominate and/or destroy the world.
L: Type B is the run-of-the-mill mafia boss.
S: Type C is the local public nuisance.
R: And type D?
L and S: Politicians.
R: They all use the laugh?
L: Yup. It goes like this. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! (Stone has a gun pointed at Loki's face) Eep.
R: Holy shit! That's a Colt Python! That's the most powerful handgun ever made!
S: Oh dear. I am sorry, Loki. Force of habit. Oh, silly me. I had the safety off.
L: Red, you got that mop handy?
R: I've never seen anything like that up close. Could I have a closer look at that?
S: I suppose so. Here you are.
CLUNK
R: I can't even lift this off the floor? What's thing made of?
S: The gun is perfectly normal. It's the bullets that are unusual.
R: What are they made of? Titanium?
S: Depleted uranium, actually.
R: WHAT! A normal Python shell will go through an engine block!
S: Yes, and these will go through something that can tear an engine block apart with its bare hands.
R: I don't want to know.
L: You get used to it.
S: Oh, Loki. Do you have anything to protect yourself?
L: I'm always armed with my cunning mind and sharp wit.
S: I'd better give you a gun. Here you are.
-Stone hands Loki a thing resembling a giant cigarette lighter with a trigger. Loki eyes the name of the model-
L: Noisy Cricket?
S: I picked it up from some gentlemen named Jay. He wouldn't give his full name.
L: Stone? Why is this thing beeping red?
-Stone flicks a tiny switch, and the light turns green-
S: Ah, that's better.
L: What happened?
S: This gun was designed to fit my grip precisely. Now it is suited to yours.
L: If I had fired beforehand?
S: It would have blown your hand off.
L: Really. FREEEEED…!
R: Say, where is Fred? I haven't seen him around in this chapter.
S: I don't know, and I can't say I'm disappointed. If you two would excuse me, I need to make a telephone call to the FBI.
-Loki has jumped out of his chair, and is frantically looking for exits from the room-
L: FBI?! What for? How soon will they be here?
S: No need to get overexcited, Loki. Most likely whatever friends you have in the Bureau would not be assigned to an op in this place. RING RING Hello. Extension 3678, please…Is this Clarice? Well hello Clarice…
-He exits on his cell phone-
L: I really wish he wouldn't do that.
R: Ya know, he really does sound like that guy in the Silence of the Sheep.
L: I never get used to that no matter how many times he does it.
R: Loki? Where's the mop?
L: I don't know. I'd like to shove it up Fred's anus. I really wish I wasn't about to ask this, but; where is Fred.
H(reentering): He won't be here for a while. He is in the process of filming a first-person perspective documentary of the Canadian Health Care System. Where is Stone?
L: He's making a phone call to the FBI.
H: The FBI? Really? I'm a federal case! I've arrived! I mean…how nice. He must have a ladyfriend in the department.
L: Not likely.
R: What does that mean?
L: You'll find out later in the chapter.
H: When he's finished with his call, could you send him to Red's workshop? The next scene is ready to film.
L: Yeah…Red, you'd better get to makeup.
R: We don't use makeup on this show.
L: Darn, I was hoping you just had a bad lighting guy.
-The workshop. A place that would be described as a major health hazard on its best day. Loose saw blades and heavy tools are everywhere one can see. Duct tape holds highly unstable projects together, ready to collapse at the slightest air current. Everyone who is not otherwise occupied with either grievous injuries or primal lust is present. Loki has supplied Daphne with a cattle prod to ward off the Lodge members. Loki is leaning against the wall laughing at the feral fury with which she fries the dirty old men. Harold is outfitting Stone with radio transmitter that will adjust the cameras to follow his every move. Stone is too busy regarding his "opponents" to protest. A fat Korean, a large German, and a really tall Russian guy with metal teeth-
H: Are we ready? ACTION!
R: We have a special presentation on the show today. Once again, Philo Stone will give a demonstration on self-defense. I have brought in who Harold says are three distant nephews of mine to assist in the activity. I have here Mr. Oddjob Jones, Mr. Jaws Jones, and Mr. Heinrich Jones.
S: That is very strange, considering that one is Korean, one is German, and the tall one appears to have swallowed a lawn mower. Mr. Green, didn't you say you were Scottish?
R: I told you we don't talk about that!
S: Yeeeesss…would any of you fellows be related to a Fred Jones?
All 3: NO!!!!!!!
S: How unfortunate…that would have relieved any guilt about inflicting injury upon you.
R: So here we are on my…Harold, wouldn't it have been better to do this in a gym somewhere with padding and open space?
H: Of course not! True unfairly balanced assaults, I mean, true self- defense takes place in the real world, with obstacles, and hindrances that can be used dishonorably as weaponry! Mr. Stone! Before we begin, would you please remove any supplemental implements that might lessen the already unfair advantage I have stacked against you! I mean…you know what I mean!
S: Oh, very well. If you don't mind holding my tools, Mr. Green?
H: Certainly.
-Out of a seemingly bottomless pit in his trousers, Stone piles into Harold's arms: a Ruger Mk II, Colt .45, SIG-Sauer P220, Makarov, Beretta 92F, CZ75, Steyr GB, Luger, Tokarev TT-33, Rodom wz 35, Detonics Pocket 9, Browning DA, Walther P5, Glock 21, Smith and Wesson 4506…-
H: ARE YOU QUITE FINISHED?
S: Just one more thing.
-…a rubber chicken-
H: A rubber chicken? A RUBBER CHICKEN! All this time I thought I thought you were rugged, stalwart monument to justice and strength! A powerful vision of human achievement and independent action! But a rubber chicken! What else do you have? A pacifier? A security blankie? A stuffed tiger you swear is alive?
S: I will have you know that there have been many times that the only thing keeping me from the clutches of death has been my rubber chicken.
H: But how? How could such an inane gag toy be the final wall between you and your demise? I demand to know!
S: You want me to show you?
H: Yes.
S: Are you sure?
H: YES!
WUNK
H: Ooooohhhh…I see…a rubber chicken filled with cement.
S: Lead shot, actually. I've found it conforms to the head better. Thanks for that tip, Loki.
L: Anytime. You don't want to see what I taught him to do with a tomato.
H: No, I suppose I don't. Could we just begin the scene, please?
-With a final quick look behind him at his assailants, I mean assistants, and a glance-over of the area of the workshop, Stone commences-
S: As the younger Mr. Green stated, the true placing of a self-defense situation is unknowable. And most often, it comes on one most unexpectedly…
-POW! Heinrich clocks Stone in the back of the head in mid-sentence. Slightly dazed, the German throws him into a workbench. As Jaws charges in from the side, Stone ducks down and stands up fast just as Jaws is on top of him, sending the metal miscreant hurtling into Oddjob, approaching from the other side-
S: As has been so dutifully illustrated here.
-Heinrich is moving in front the front in a boxing posture, ready to fight-
S: But as Harold was so kind to remind me of, one is never truly alone in battle.
-Stone scoops up a handful of sawdust, and flings it in the German's eyes. Heinrich stops for a moment to clear his vision-
S: One's environment can be one's best friend.
-Stone rushes the blinded German, lifts him like a professional wrestler, and slams him onto his knee. Heinrich lays bent on the ground-
S: Advantages can be found in all places…
-Jaws and Oddjob have recovered, and are advancing fast. Stone grabs an obviously often-used fire extinguisher from the wall as Jaws swings his fist as Stone's face. Stone quickly brings the extinguisher in line with Jaws' hand, and sickening CRUNCH can be heard from Jaws' broken knuckles. Stone ducks down and slams the extinguisher into Jaws' groin, and uppercuts him under the chin with an upward swing-
S: …If one knows where to look for them.
-Oddjob, deciding not to deal with Stone hand-to-hand, flings his deadly derby at Stone's face. Stone moves aside, and catches the hat by shooting his fist inside the brim. Spinning, Stone returns fire, embedding the derby in Oddjob's chest-
S: And I would like to extend my personal thanks to Mr. Harold Green for selecting this location. In we had done this presentation in a more sterile environment; there is a very good chance I might have been beaten.
H: CURSES! I mean, cut!
S: Was that satisfactory, Mr. Green?
H: I didn't expect you to satisfy me, Stone. I expected you to DIE! Henchmen! Get him! Henchmen…?
-All the Lodge members have vanished-
L: Chapter 5, Page 87, Harold. Never give your enemy or your henchmen an opportunity to escape.
H: What?
L: You must not have gotten to that chapter yet. Never mind.
-Fred straggles into the workshop. He has a broken leg, and is hobbling on crutches-
F: There you all are! It's time for me to shoot my scene! Daphne! I have a malt for you! Velma! Gather the bearded amateur and move your overweight chunky butt! I need him for this next scene! I told you once already not to hang around this third-rate riffraff show! It will lower your already non- existent standards! Now, Let's Go, Gang!
H: Mr. Stone…you are aware that I have been plotting your demise since you arrived, and will relentlessly continue to seek to destroy you afterward, but…could I borrow that rubber chicken?
S: Even though you are an aspiring super-villain, and I will have to bust up your operation later…I can't say no.
H: Thanks, Mr. Stone.
WUNK
F: OW! My pituitary gland!
-Outside. Handyman Corner-
R: Hello again, folks. Welcome a hopefully more successful edition of Handyman Corner. Since I am under a legal injunction from going anywhere near that bi-plane, we're going to do some auto detailing on this Lamborghini Diablo. This being an Italian car, no one is going to miss it. So we start with our tools, a car key, and the handyman's secret weapon, duct tape. I shouldn't have anything to worry about, since the owner of this car makes it a point to not have any dealings with anyone in the law industry…oh my. The red dot that has just appeared on my chest is part of a laser scope that seems to be attached to a Parker Hale Model 85 sniper rifle. Those guns can have an 85 percent hit probability up to 800 meters.
L: 900.
H: 900 meters. And considering that the dot is moving further down my body, I'm going to just slowly move away from the car. But first, I'm going to gather the roll of duct tape that I've dropped.
PING
R: Oh wow. That was a great shot, Loki. You took my belt buckle right off.
L: Damn. I missed.
R: Oh. Where's that mop?
-Out in front of the Lodge, Fred is prepping for his scene-
F: For those of you that are not used to film style, I tend to shoot my episodes non-chronologically. So we will be filming the capture scene where we turn over the ghost to the police.
R: Mmmmpnnnphhhh
-Red has been tied and gagged-
F: Now, Dalton, you will be playing the police officer that takes the culprit away. Do you have your line down?
Da: Kids without thanks done have you not could we it.
F: NO! You will destroy my vision! It goes, "Thanks kids, we couldn't have done it without you!" Then you haul off the Phlatulent Phantom! Now, Red, do you have your line?
R: MMMMMHHHHH!!!!
F: What was that?
-Fred pulls off Red's gag-
R: What the fuck are you trying to do to me, Fred?
F: All wrong! You are the most difficult villain I've ever dealt with! Your line is, "And I would have gotten away with it, too; if it hadn't been for you meddling kids!" All the others got it right! Where is Daphne?
-Daphne is laying comatose over a chair-
F: Oh, there she is. Velma, hold on to her during on this shot. It will be easier to do a middle shot and get you both at once.
V: With pleasure.
F: All right everyone! Places! Take one! ACTION!
-Fred stands up straight and puffs out his chest as best he can up his crutches-
F: So, officer, as you can see, it was Red Green who was terrorizing the swamp as the Phlatulent Phantom!
Da: Thanks kids, we couldn't have done it without me!
F: Ah! CUT!
H: Fred, allow me to show them how it's done.
F: Velma! Get back to your place! I didn't say could…
-PLOP Harold shoves Fred over a table-
F: OW! My pancreas!
H: Enough of the airhead! Camera grip number 1! Raise the camera angle three degrees! Light grip! Lower the tint! Everybody get out of that goddamn straight line! All right! Fred! Get on your good foot and get back over here! Daphne! You just stay on my shoulder. Oh, watch the drool, honey. FRED! Get over here! Good. Now, Uncle Red, you're not being convincing as a captured villain. Now Fred, motivate him. Grab a hold of his arm. Twist. No, harder. Harder. Make him scream.
CRACK
R: AAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!
H: Yes! Yes! That's it! Red, you're a little too purple. Don't hold your breath so much. Look angry, not so much in pain. Yes, that's it! The glowing red eyes are perfect! Places! Take two!
R: Gggggrrrr…
H: Say your line, Uncle Red.
R: YYYAAAAAAA!!!
H: No! Your line! With feeling!
R: AND I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT IF HAD NOT BEEN FOR YOU MEDDLING KIDS!!!
H: Perfect! CUT! That's a print!
R: Harold…may I have that rubber chicken, please?
H: Sure, Uncle Red.
WUNK
H: FROINLAVEN! What did you hit ME for?
R: You were closest. And when did you start channeling Jerry Lewis? Oh, Fred?
WUNK
F: OW! My cerebrum!
R: This thing comes in awfully handy. I'll hold on to this for a while.
F: When I can see straight, we'll move right along. Velma got two scenes, I get two scenes. Bring Velma! It's time to film the finding of the final clue!
H: He'll find something all right.
-Fred, Harold, and what can loosely be described as Daphne are now positioned in the second story hallway of the Lodge. Velma and Gord's room is right next to them-
F: Velma!
H: It's Harold! And WHAT?
F: Huh?
H: Speak up!
F: What are they doing now?
H: Whoops, I did it again! Of course, at this point, they've done it lots of times! Fred?
F: What?
H: How can we film with all this noise?
F: Just yell really loud! I'll edit out all the background noise!
H: Fine!
F: ACTION!
H: Do I really have to say it, Fred?
F: YES!
H: You fuckin' little…
F: What?
H: Nothing!
F: Start again!
H: Jinkies! Look, Fred! I've found a clue!
F: Excellent, Velma! Now stand aside so I can bask in all the glory!
V: You'll have to come over here to see it!
F: Where is it?
H: It's behind this door! Come on over here!
F: Behind this door here?
V: Yes! Now open it, and receive the glory you so richly deserve!
F: Hey look gang! It's aAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
H: Oh, did I forget to mention the staircase that I just happened to push you down?
WUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKETC…
-Fred bounces down the stairs until he can no longer be heard. Then a few seconds later, a strange noise can heard coming from above-
WUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKWUNKETC…
-Fred is now rolling down the stairs above the hallway, and rolls right past Harold's shocked gaze, down the stairs again, and finally coming to a rest with a loud THUD at the basement floor where he should have stopped the first time around-
H: I've never seen that happen before.
F: OW! My…Say, what is that?
H: I don't know. I've never seen that before. Should it be sticking out of your chest like that?
F: Look! A clue! I cassette tape with the title, "I did it. By Red Green"! Velma! Help me!
H: I think not, Fred! I have another scene to direct! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I love being a super-villain! Come, my limp love muffin!
-Harold runs off, with Daphne draped over his shoulder-
F: VELMA! DON"T LEAVE ME! I'M TOO IMPORTANT AND TOO GREAT A GENIUS TO DIE!!!
-A rope falls from the open door down to Fred-
Strange voice: Grab hold!
-Fred grasps the rope, and is pulled up. Before him is a short black man-
C: Hi, Mr. Jones! It's me! Gary Coleman! I'm here to star on your show!
F: Dabney Coleman! You're wearing your shoes on your knees, and covered your face in shoe polish! You still have your gray hair and moustache! Besides, Tim Conway did that bit better than you! I want Gary Coleman and that's final!
C: You're sure about this?
F: Absolutely.
C: All right.
-Coleman releases the rope-
F: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!
THUD
F: What's that gray stuff leaking onto the floor?
-Ask the Experts. Harold is at the question booth, holding the cards and looking even more confident than ever. The glass of champagne is now in his hand, and he is smoking a long thin cigarette. On the answer panel are Red, Loki, and Stone-
S: He looks awfully sure of himself. He must have hurt Fred again.
L: Yeah, I almost forgot he was wearing Velma's clothes. And how did he grow a Vincent Price moustache? It is better than the Hitler one.
H: (Now in a fully refined British dialect) Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Ask The…ha ha ha…Experts. A Question and Answer segment in which we attempt to get these three grown men to say the three words they should be quite accustomed to saying: I Don't Know. Allow me to introduce the three contestants. Mon oncle, Monsieur Rouge Vert. For those non- Francais layman, my uncle Red Green.
R: Howdy.
H: And to his immediate left, is the epitome of justice and honor. The steadfast protector of all that is good and just, and my now eternal arch enemy, Philosopher Stone.
S: Eternal Arch Enemy?
L: Your name is Philosopher Stone? Does J. K. Rowling know you?
H: The Philosopher Stone was a concept devised by alchemists. They wished to devise an element so pure that the entire universe would be compared against it.
L: Oh, how…fitting.
H: And lastly, we have this other guy. Larry Something or other.
L: That's Loki. Gwydion.
H: Whatever. Lewis Gorilla on the far end.
L: Monsieur Merde-Tete. Jusqu'a tu est protégé tres bien, regarde toi- meme.
H: GULP Let's begin, shall we? Our question is from Brian Skinner of Madison, Wisconson. He writes: Dear Experts, I have recently wed my high school sweetheart. I want to do everything I can possibly do to make her life with me a happy one, but I am at a loss. Since we both attended St. Brunhilda's Extremely Strict and Downright Militant Catholic School, I know very little about the facts of life. So my question to you is; How do…oooooo…how do…hhuuuuuu…how do you…FLAVENSCHITZEL…how do you pl…HOOOOOIIIIYYY!!!
L: Someone had better get that mop.
S: It's a pity. He was doing so well.
R: I'll take that. Go change your underwear. Please. The question is: How does a man please a woman?
L: WOOHOO!
R: Loki? What are you doing? I thought Harold looked ridiculous in that dress, but I've seen a new low with you dancing on the table like Pee Wee Herman. And where did you get those big white shoes?
L: Perhaps I vented that a bit strongly. But I got Stone! This is the one place he cannot possibly beat me! Tartarus, he couldn't even beat you, Red!
R: What? Do mean Stone…?
L: Has never left the pigpen. Still wearing the sock. Rocket never left the landing pad. Can't find the mushroom patch. Is without his pruning shears. Can't find the henhouse. Shall I go on?
R: That's quite enough to give me nightmares for days. Stone's a VIRGIN?
S: I simply don't believe in a personal commitment of that magnitude outside the bonds of marriage. It cheapens the act. And being in the position that I hold, I cannot make the commitment of marriage.
L: You ever wonder why he has the strength of ten men? It's because his heart is pure.
R: It's not pent-up sexual frustration?
S: Mr. Green, one that feels that he must make a promise to his wife of his prompt return after every episode should not speak of sexual problems.
L: Screw all that! It's my turn now! Now Brian, if you want to please that woman and turn her into a quivering bowl of jelly flesh, there's a very simple procedure. First, there's the look. A combination of cool detachment and animal desire. Look at her with a mild interest. Get her intrigued, but not afraid. Next comes the advance. Do so smoothly and slowly. Never too fast. Offer her some wine. Anything tasting like bacteria shit is right out. Offer some treats. Small things like strawberries and grapes. Fruit will be your best friend at this stage, but avoid pineapples at all costs. Trust me on this one. Begin contact with a massage of a nerve cluster. The thigh or behind the ear is ideal. When she begins to breathe heavy, move in deeper. Move to the chest or hips. Keep constant motion, and spit out as many corny lines as you can think of. At this stage, they work surprisingly well. The clothes should start to come off at this point. Maintain body-to-body contact and keep moving. Keep to key orifices, and make sure to look in the face from time to time to reassure her that she isn't just a clit. Keep this up in progressive cycles. Remember that wild monkey sex only works if you're both totally smashed. And most important, be sincere. And if you can't be sincere, fake it as best you can.
H: Ummmm…thank you Loki, for that remarkably graphic depiction. Uncle Red?
R: To keep it simple, I'll use generic terms. The act of sexual arousal is achieved by stimulation of specific nerve centers that communicate electrical sensory net signals to the multiple chemical centers of the brain. Achieved by said stimulation is a secretion of hormonal chemicals sent through adrenal glands and byways to the recipient collectors that provide lubrication and climaxation by way of a snuggy tingly warm feeling and blowing herself all over your shlong.
H: Do forget that there certain Eastern philosophies that have organized said stimulation into a scientific procedure consisting of activation of specific pressure points capable of reducing of woman to jell-o.
R: Oh yes. That was Sinanju, I believe. Hails from North Korea.
H: And taught by a man named Chuin. Sinanju consists of a 50 step method…
S: 52, actually.
H: Stone? You know Sinanju?
S: Certainly. Chuin was my martial arts instructor from age 6. I was taught the method of Sinanju, and had to take an exam at age 10.
R: What kind of exam?
S: Written, of course.
L: Darn, I was hoping it would be oral.
S: Yes, there are so many that claim to know the technique, but never give it its proper patience.
H: What do you mean?
S: The most prominent practitioner of Sinanju, Remo, would only go as far as step 11, then would jump to step thiry-seven.
L: What's thirty-seven?
S: Penetration.
R: How can you be so certain of your knowledge of Sinanju when you've never used.
S: I have used it.
H: What? How can that be? Aren't you a virgin?
S: Yes.
L: Then how can you have used them?
S: It's an interesting story. I was 16, and had been dispatched on a mission infiltrating the palace of Sheik Mozambique.
L: Ah yes! Akmed!
S: You know him, Loki?
L: I've…heard the name.
S: A popular misconception is that the harem is where the concubines are stored. The harem is in fact a receiving area for visiting nobility. The seraglio is fact the place where the concubines are found.
L: Ah shit! I was in the wrong room! No wonder it was full of rich old women! AH! Flashback! The fingers! The fingers!
S: Ahem…as I was saying, I had just escaped from the battle arena where prisoners are used as pieces in a lethal game of death, and needed a place to escape the rabid llamas and Doberman camels when I turned a corner and found myself surrounded by eight score young blondes and brunettes, all between the ages of sixteen and nineteen and a half. One named Zoot approached me and told me that I was in the Castle Anthrax. The Sheik was at a health care clinic in Switzerland for a severe case of overexertion. He had been gone a while, and they were getting restless. They had nearly had a chance to release their…tension with a young lad named Galahad, but some gay fellow named Lancelot ruined it.
L: AND?
S: And I relieved it using the Sinanju technique. I only made it through the first thirteen steps before they were all sufficiently satisfied.
L: You were sixteen, surrounded by 160 women, and you didn't DO ANYTHING!?
S: Of course not. That would have infringed on their personal dignity. A gentleman just doesn't do such things. They were all very good conversationalists. I still get Christmas cards from them all every year.
H: Mr. Stone? To clear up any confusion regarding the proper execution, would you possibly give a demonstration?
S: I suppose I could. The procedure begins by tapping the inside of the left wrist in time with the heart beat, then increasing the speed of the tapping. This tapping will increase the heart beat to 150 beats a minute. Next…Harold, would you please get that camera more than two inches from my face? Now as I was saying…
-Fred bursts in. He is nearly mummified in bandages-
F: That's it, everyone! Time's up! I need Velma for my next scene! Clear the floor everyone! It's MY time!
S: This has run long. I'll cut this short.
L: Ah! My notes! Fred! Do you realize what you've done! You've denied every man the greatest knowledge he could ever know! The way to reduce women to sexual slaves, dependent on your knowledge to grant them the ecstasy they can find nowhere else! Does this mean nothing to you?
F: Nothing.
-Fred goes, with film crew in tow-
L: That does it! That blonde bombdud has traversed a line even I wouldn't cross! He gonna DIE!
-Loki draws his gun and fires at Fred-
R: Loki, what kind of gun is that?
L: That's odd. It doesn't shoot bullets. It shoots miniature rockets.
R: Why is that rocket making a U-turn?
L: Oh silly me. I had it set on heat seeking. I must be way hotter than Fred. Hehehe…SHIT!
-The rocket stops inches from Loki's face. It makes a beeping noise-
Rocket: SCANNING
L: What?
Ro: BRUNETTE
L: Oh no.
Ro: NOT AS TALL
L: Not this.
Ro: NOT AS BROAD SHOULDERED
L: Help.
Ro: AND DEFINITELY NOT AS GOOD
-Stone snatches the rocket from mid-air and disarms it-
L: What just happened?
S: My ammunition is specially designed to not harm me. We look so much alike, you must have confused it. Momentarily, at least. That's very lucky of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to continue my search for my agents. I'm quite surprised. One of them hasn't left his post in years, and the other is always close to the Scooby gang.
L: That is the final straw. First Daphne, then Harold, now a fucking smart- ass bomb. The next person that makes any comparisons between Stone and me is going to get creamed with my titanium baseball bat.
-Handyman Corner. Again-
R: Hello folks, and welcome to what I hope is the final edition of Handyman corner on this episode. I have a restraining order about touching the plane, and a desire for self-preservation about touching the car. So what we'll do this time is turn this horribly ugly green van reading "Mystery Machine" into a convertible. I don't think anyone will miss it. Mr. Stone! Loki! What did I do this time?
S: We weren't about to stand by and watch you tear apart the Mystery Machine with a hacksaw and duct tape.
L: It just wouldn't be right.
R: Then, what should…
S: Here, use this chainsaw instead.
R: What? You WANT me to destroy this van?
S: Absolutely. There's more to that van than can be seen. I want it dismantled. There's a mystery to that machine, and I intend to find out what it is.
-Later, outside the lodge. Loki is standing near the edge of the swamp, attempting to light a roach. He is flicking his finger in the fashion of a lighter-
L: 98…flick…99…flick…100 steps.
-FWOOSH Loki's thumb tip has lit on fire-
L: ALL RIGHT! I'm out of range of Stone's null magic field.
Strange voice: Excuse me.
L: Yes? GAH!
-A large man wearing a hockey mask is looming over him-
L: Dude…Crystal Lake is that way. This is Possum Swamp.
Hockey guy: Yes, I know. I'm from Thugs R Us. My other associates and myself are on assignment to administer a lethal beating to a Philo Stone.
L: There are more of you?
-Four more emerge from the swamp-
L: Hey, I recognize you guys! You're the starting line of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Here I thought you were petty thugs, brigands, and riffraff. But no, you're PROFESSIONAL thugs, brigands, and riffraff!
Hockey guy: We need to do something in the off-season. So we joined Thugs R Us.
L: Thugs R Us. I dealt with you guys before. Is Maureen still your receptionist?
HG: Actually, no. She's on maternity leave. Jenny's there now.
L: I haven't met her. Perhaps I can meet her the next time I go in to complain on your shoddy performance.
HG: We're actually rookies. We've never dealt with someone of Stone's caliber. Would you mind of we practiced on you first? You are about the same size, and you look like a pushover.
L: Drat! Not a close enough comparison. All right, fellas. Let's do this thing. Finally I get some glory.
-The five hockey hulks spread into a circle to take out Loki. Before anyone can move, Loki looks one right in the eye-
L: Hemerroids sure are a pain in the ass, aren't they?
-The guy grabs at his butt, and falls to the ground-
-The next one moves in, hockey stick held high. Loki leaps onto him and tears off his mask-
L: Take Advil for extreme migrane headaches.
-The guy falls, clutching at his head and gritting his teeth. Loki moves immediately to the next one and slides through his legs-
L: How is that gonorrhea coming along?
-The next one falls in pain. Loki barely ducks a swing at his head from behind-
L: That was cheap. I'll have some fun with you. Ever wonder what it's like to have PMS?
-The assailant screams and falls to the dirt. The original one is left-
L: So mister rookie, what I do with you?
-Loki picks up a discarded hockey stick, and twirls it with expert precision-
L: I'm surprised no one ever does this in a game.
-Loki swings the stick straight up between the guy's legs. The guy's eyes start to tear, and he cannot breathe-
L: Uh oh. Maybe that was excessive. Oh, no wonder. The end is…oh my. I'd better get that out of there.
SNAP
L: Oops. You'd better go find a proctologist.
CLAP CLAP CLAP
-Shaggy and Scooby are applauding Loki's performance with the glassy eyed gaze of a pot junkie-
L: Shaggy! Scooby! How long have been standing there? Why didn't you give me a hand?
Sc: Re rare.
L: Funny.
Sh: We found something you'll like.
L: What?
Sh: We found where Harold stashed the weed.
L: You did? Let's go get it!
Sh: Not so fast.
L: Oh, what now?
Sh: Talk to my agent.
L: How much, Scooby?
Sc: Reventy.
L: Seventy! That's outrageous! I won't pay it!
Sh: Then no smokey smoke.
L: So it's seventy for me and thirty for you, right?
Sc: Rong.
L: Oh, you mean thirty for you, and seventy for me.
Sc: Right.
L: Well okay then. Let's go.
Sh: Hey! Wait a minute!
L: Ree hee hee hee!
SO NOW THAT THE STONER TRIO HAS FOUND WHAT THEY WANT, WHAT WILL THEY DO? WHAT OTHER INJURIES CAN BE INFLICTED UPON FRED? WILL WE GET TO SEE STONE'S SINANJU TECHNIQUE? AND JUST WHAT MAKES POKEMON SO POPULAR?