This Space For Lease
By AberrantBlade (Baz4§hort)
This is an original story. It was written for a Pokémon fanfiction mailing list and never completed. It is only nominally a Pokémon fanfic. You will not find any crazed Pokémon running amok. I don't really like Pokémon anymore. Don't mail me with complaints about the lack of Pokémon and Pokémon references. Also, some of the gags may be a bit dated by now, it's been awhile since this has seen the light of day…
Disclaimer: I don't own the main & secondary characters in Pokémon. Game Freak, Creatures Inc. & Nintendo do. I do, however, own the original characters that are mine. I can't say that I own anyone else's OCs. The tumbleweed is the property, copyright, trademark, whatever of Darth David & Mooman, who let me use their tumbleweed with their permission. Just 'cause I can use it doesn't mean you can: Ask the owners of original characters if you can use their characters. In short, anything in this story that isn't someone else's is mine, OK? If you have any MP3s that you want to send me, SHUT UP AND SEND THEM ALREADY!!! ...sorry. I'll start the story now.
Cast
Tom (First Kid)
Dick (Second Kid)
Harry (Third Kid)
Reginald (The Butler)
Amos (Cannon Fodder 1)
Bernie (C/F 2)
Carl (C/F 3)
Drew (C/F 4)
Ed (C/F 5)
Fred (C/F 6)
Mr. Grumpy Old Man (Grampa)
Darth David & Mooman's Tumbleweed (BIG THANKS FOR THIS FAVOR!)
Dr. Dr. Prof. Spangle (Bad Man 1)
Prof. Killemall (Bad Man 2)
Dr. Guntohead (Bad Man 3)
The Stapler (Bad Man 4)
The Really Big Bureaucratic Pizza Co. Ltd. Corp. Representative (Bad Man 5)
Big Evil Scary Man (Bad Man 6)
Boggy B's Body (Bad Man 7)
Xab21 (Bad Man 8)
(9 naM daB) yoB sdrawkcaB
Various Artists
Batteries Not Included
Some Assembly Required
30-Day Warranty
[BeeAichEcks logo clip: The audience is stoned.]
[Baz4§hort Productions logo clip]
[dramatic music]
[fade into shot of a big mansion. Dark night, thunder, clouds, the usual murder mystery opening scene. Pan slowly to the right to a smaller mansion in sunlight with butterflies and bees flitting around, shortly followed by title screen on signpost from right side of screen: THIS SPACE FOR LEASE]
Day 2
Slapstick, Shticks, and Running Gags
[Pan across the Slapstick Suite, wallpapered with b/w photos of famous comedy teams and decorated with cartoon gadgets like oversized mallets, large appliances with cartoon-character imprints embedded into the bottoms and sides, extendo-gloves, cartons of black bombs, {EASTER EGG: Several frames have shots of the crew goofing off with clown outfits and paraphernalia including a shot of all the crew members with red clown noses, baggy pants and floppy shoes on. Baz4§hort was excluded due to extensive damage from the tumbleweed following a short appearance on various wrestling shows. Bloody legal battles followed.} ACME crates & anvils. Cut to a bed-that-looks-like-the-slab-that-Frankenstein-was-zapped-on, upon which Tom is sleeping on.
Tom: [yawns] Uhhhh...must speak to Reggie about that bed. Huhwhatthe...[extendo-glove punches towards Tom's face] Ack! [barely dodges punch which hits buzzer behind bed, causing bed to tilt forwards and...shoot Tom up a tube in the ceiling (HAH! Gotcha there!).]
[Cut to dining room, where the opposite end of the tube points down at a chair tilted back; Tom shoots out and lands in chair, which skids across the floor exactly in front of the table.]
Tom: Oof! Owww... [rubs his sore rump]
[Scream from inside the tube] [Dick comes flying out onto another chair, which slides to the table with equal accuracy.]
Dick: [gasps for a moment, then has a silly smile on his face] Whee.
Tom: Where's-
[Thump, followed by a muffled cry for help from the tube]
Dick: I'm not exactly sure, but I think that's him. Should I get a plunger?
Tom: Plunger? Try a compressed air blast to clear the tube. Or dynamite could do it.
Dick: Or a really big vacuum cleaner.
[Enter Reginald in the background]
Reginald: I assure you, none of those methods are necessary. You simply must increase the power of the suction, and- [increased whirring sound, followed by a sonic boom as Harry flies out the tube and onto the table and knocking over candlesticks, fruit bowls, centerpieces and even a raccoon that got there because of a time-space continuum flux before slamming into the mantle of the big fireplace and letting fly with a whopping big fart. Tom puts the ubiquitous clothespin on his nose while Dick turns green and flatlines.] -see?
Dick [miraculously revived from the fart's lethality]: What's for breakfast?
Reginald: You have your choice of poisoned omelet, poisoned pancakes, poisoned French toast, or leftover meatloaf.
Tom: Omelet.
Harry [sitting down next to Dick]: Do you have any non-poisoned food?
Reginald: The omelet is poisoned with cholesterol, the pancakes are poisoned with maple syrup, and the French toast has been poisoned with powdered sugar.
Harry: Ohh! Well, in that case, I'll have the French toast.
Dick: Not hungry.
[ringing bell]
Reginald: Ah! That will be the other guests!
Harry: Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up! Whaddaya mean, 'other guests'? You never said anything about other guests! And where's my French toast? Huh? Answer me, stalefish!
[a door of the dining room opens, and six people file out. Another door opens and reveals nine suspicious-looking guys, four of whom are wearing spandex.]
Reginald: May I introduce the 'Consolidated Foundry' team and the 'Perfectly Harmless World Domination Company (don't be fooled, we're really rough guys)'. They are lodging in the Prison Suite and the Suite with Weapons of Mass Destruction, respectively. Mr...Bernard, was it?
Bernie [tough-looking short guy with Mafia accent]: Yeah.
Reginald: Would you like to have a drink before breakfast?
Ed [seven-foot tall, blond hair, more curiosity than brains; recently lost out to a six-year-old in a tournament to explain the purpose of meaning]: I want eggs.
Bernie: Ya knucklehead, ya can't drink eggs.
Ed: [sadistically long pause] Okay. Bacon, then.
[Sitcom-like crowd laughter.]
Dick [aside to Tom]: I've probably sneezed more brain cells than that guy grew in a lifetime. IQ: -40.
{EASTER EGG: The place markers on the table are inscribed with bad jokes: "A bird in the hand is worth two bushes."; "Best when eaten before Aug. 31, 99000."; "Ten things I hate: 1-10: These jokes."; "Elvis isn't dead, he's the tumbleweed."; "Why did the chicken cross the road? He didn't take the time to make friends." And such. Right as Ed sits down, the tumbleweed (taking a break from picketing Mooman & Darth David as a result of their suggesting that it should be discontinued, it got B4§ to take over for a while) sneaks up and rolls right over his face without him noticing. Forgive the overextended Easter egg and repeated references to the tumbleweed, B4§ is an @-hole. To quote DD&MM: "Anywayyyyyyyyy…"}
[The two sides sit down. Reginald returns with breakfast, then introduces each of the bad guys.]
Reginald: This is The Stapler, in charge of PHWDC supplies. Professor Killemall & Boggy B's Body, executives of the Dead Letter Office. Dr. Guntohead, negotiations. Xab21, who sits at a desk and plays Unreal Tournament all day because Baz4§hort is too lazy to think of something. -
{EASTER EGG: the following rant isn't in the theatrical version, so thhbt!}
Baz4§hort: What the frog? That's not in the script! Cut! CUT! Reggie, baby, whassa matta wichu? And why am I talking like a Hollywood big shot? And whom are we kidding here? Really, people, I can't work like this! [Punches a gofer] I'm going into my locker room for a nap. The tumbleweed'll do all the directing.
-The Really Big Pizza Company Limited Corporation Representative, in charge of not stocking the snack machines. Backwards Boy, in charge of producing complicated forms that gullible people sign. Big Evil Scary Man, bodyguard. And Dr. Dr. Prof. Nathaniel Spangle, CEO of the Perfectly Harmless World Domination Company.
Spangle: It's a pleasure meeting you three. By the way…you wouldn't be interested in some real estate, would you?
Reginald: I'd assume they'd want something with a view of a lake, NOT a swamp.
Spangle: Damn. You'd be surprised by how often that works. How about you, Ed?
Ed: Durrrrrrrr…I like cheese.
[Bernie & BES Man do a simultaneous dope slap on Ed.]
Tom: What's your area of expertise, Mr. Spangle?
Spangle: [scary accent] DOCTOR SPANGLE! My name is Doctor Spangle!
Tom: Anywho…What's your area of expertise?
Spangle: Weaponry…and electric toothbrushes……and frozen pizza.
Dick & Harry: [simultanee…simultaneo…simulatte…at the same time] Frozen pizza?
Spangle: Is there an echo in here?
[Echoing 'In here…here…here…here…']
Spangle: Yes, I smoke frozen pizzas.
Bernie: That must be extremely messy. How do you do it, squirt some lighter fluid onto the end and light that sucker up?
[Spangle looks at Bernie closely.]
Spangle: Noooo…I defrost the pizza over a mesquite- & hickory-fueled fire. The pizza absorbs some of the smoke's flavor as it defrosts and cooks. It's really quite good. You should try it. Now if you'll excuse me, I must remove myself from here. Mr. Edward, would you like to see some of my choice plots of land?
Ed: …Duhhh, Bernie, what does this button do? [indicates a big red button labeled 'DO NOT PUSH IF YOUR NAME IS ED']
Bernie: Ed, if you press that button, you will become one with the bullet.
[Ed looks on blankly for a few seconds, then presses the button regardless of what Bernie said. The tumbleweed falls from the ceiling tied to a industrial-strength anvil and lands on Bernie's head. Visual FX stars shoot to both sides. Sound of a clunk.]
Bernie [muffled voice]: I'm nt qyt ded yt!
Tom: Let's get out of here before this murder mystery involves our own!
Dick: This isn't a murder mystery!
Tom: What do you call it?
Dick: A homicide drama.
Tom: Whatever.