-11-
Bernard: Mind if I top you off there, Dr. Fred?
Dr. Fred: You even try it and I'll feed you to my mutant tentacle!
Bernard: Um... isn't that who we're trying to stop?
Dr. Fred: Oh! Right.... sorry, I just need to get used to not having that line to use. It's quite the pants-wetter, especially to women... I wonder why that is?
Bernard: *ugh*...
We would like to take this time out now to remind you that this is a PG-13 fanfic, thus any disgusting connotations you or your children derive from anything you read are legally not our responsibility. So don't even think of challenging us or our team of fifty high-priced lawyers. Thank you.
~The Management
Bernard: (drat!) Anyway, I was talking about your coffee.
Dr. Fred: Oh! Of... course. Go right ahead, less work for me.
Bernard: Oh, splendid!
::Eagerly, suspicious Bernard pours suspicious coffee from a suspicious pot, suspiciously.::
Dr. Fred: Ah, excellent. ::he raises the cup to his lips... then stops.:: You know... there's something funny about this coffee...
Bernard: Um... I... don't know what you're talking about... Dr... Fred! It's coffee, right from your favorite pot!
Dr. Fred: No, no... this seems... different somehow. Like... something's... missing.
::Bernard takes a few steps back, ready to bolt out of the mansion at any given moment. His experiences with former writer Wendy Hemingway had taught him that giving a coffee addict decaf was akin to tugging on Superman's cape, or spilling beer on the Duke, or stealing lunch from Roseanne::
Dr. Fred: Oh, of course, what am I thinking? ::Dr. Fred produces a hefty bag of sugar from out of nowhere and pours some in the cup before tucking it back into the thin air from whence it came::
Bernard: How... how did you do that?
Dr. Fred: Never mind. Edna sent you down here, didn't she?
Bernard: Huh? What do you mean?
Dr. Fred: She's been doing things like this for weeks now, trying to get me to quit drinking this stuff... electrodes, cyanide, pointed sticks... and now she sends you to give me decaf!
Bernard: D.... decaf? I... I don't know what you mean! ::Bernard inches towards the door...::
Dr. Fred: Oh, get over yourself, there's no need to be scared. Us coffee drinkers aren't the type to just snap and go on a six-state strangling spree at the slightest change in their routine.
Bernard: But what about... the Wendy incident?
Dr. Fred: That's different. Wendy was a professional writer. Now THOSE are your real loonies. They'll snap at the slightest thing, they will. They're crazies, the whole lot of them!
::Just then, a giant mallet squashes Dr. Fred into a fine paste, while Bernard- wait, what's going on here? What are you doin- GAACK::
Due to this recent outburst, our writer has been placed in time-out for five minutes. He can come out and play later.
~The Management.
Okay, he's better now. We now return you to the fanfic, already in progress.
~The Management
Bernard: DR. FRED! Are you alright?
From BEFORE the hammer, you.
~The Management
::Splooshsplooshgush::
And put Joe's head back on!
~The Management
::*Gasp* whew, that's better.::
Now cut it out and get back to the story. Don't make us go out there and smack you around.
~The Management
::Okay. Now, forgetting that little outburst...::
Dr. Fred: Anyway, yes, this is decaf, i'm sure of it.
Bernard: That's crazy!
Dr. Fred: Come now, boy, didn't you read the opening? I was the one who put Starbucks on the map! You thought I couldn't tell the difference between coffee and swill?
Bernard: ..... well... I...
Dr. Fred: Now, now, I bet Edna didn't tell you, either. This is just another one of her ploys to get me to quit drinking coffee... but it's not going to work, I tell you! Hey, Edna! Watch THIS!
::Dr. Fred promptly drinks the stuff and, without the caffeine to support his long sleepless streak, goes out cold on his feet. Then, true to Edna's word, he stiff-arms, and promptly begins to sleepwalk his way up the stairs.::
Sleeping Dr. Fred: Must open safe... must sign contract.... must provide for... family...
Bernard: I... guess that worked...
Bernard: Okay, Nurse Edna, I got him to sleep! Now what?
Nurse Edna: You sure did! How'd you do it? Electrodes?
Bernard: Nope.
Nurse Edna: Cyanide?
Bernard: Nope.
Nurse Edna: Pointed sticks?
Bernard: Nope!
Nurse Edna: How?
Bernard: Decaf! I slipped some into his coffee.
Nurse Edna: You brave, brave soul! I've been frightened to try that since the Wendy incident. Say, did they ever identify those victims, anyway?
Bernard: They said there wasn't even enough left of their teeth to judge.
Nurse Edna: That's too bad. Anyway, I have him here on the screen. Come on over here, hot stuff. Yeeheeheeeheehee!
::Bernard, rather reluctantly, goes on over to the monitor featuring Dr. Fred's office, and sees him there- fiddling with the knob on the wall safe, opening the door, screaming like a hamster in a microwave,::
Weird Ed: ::twitch::
::and slamming it shut, only to repeat over and over.::
Nurse Edna: Can you see the combination?
Bernard: No, he's going too fast... say, what's this switch over here?
::Nurse Edna peers on over::
Nurse Edna: Oh, that's just the speed switch on the video recorde- OF COURSE! Bernard, you're a genius!
Bernard: Aw, shucks... ::he blushes::
Nurse Edna: I can just record Fred working the combination, then play it back in slow-speed to catch the combination! Then we can get the contract and we'll be rich, rich, rich! Oh, you little genius you... ::Edna springs from her chair and gives Bernard a nice, icky hug:: Just think, with the money we'll get from that thing, I can move to a new place in the Bahamas!
Bernard: But Dr. Fred needs to...
Nurse Edna: ::plops back down into her chair:: Dr. Fred needs to butt out! I've been shakin' my booty to make ends meet for three years now, while he's been playing with his toys in the basement.
Bernard: But we need to-
Nurse Edna: We need to get that combination already! Then you and I can run off together
Bernard: You and... ::gulp:: I?
::Oh, no! Nurse Edna is amorous! What will Bernard do?::
Nurse Edna: Just think about it... you... and me... on some beach somewhere... while my idiot son and worthless husband furrow their brows in a vain attempt to discover what happened to their money... lying in the sun... our bodies... nearly naked... ooh,
Bernard: ::cowering against the wall:: but what about.... Patrick Swayze?
Nurse Edna: Patrick... who? NOW GIMMIE A KISS!
Bernard: No touchee! ::nudge::
Nurse Edna: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee::CRASH!::
Bernard: ....
::Yes, Bernard's limp-wristed nudge was just enough to send Nurse Edna back into her chair and careening out the door, down the stairs, and out of the picture for the rest of this story. Thank you Bernard, for saving us all.::
Bernard: well... you know what they say... if you wanna save the world, you have to push a few old ladies down the stairs.
::After this calm moment of rationalization, Bernard sets to work. Yes, Dr. Fred is still opening and closing the safe, and with *shudder* her out of the way, Bernard is free to record and play back the tape in slow motion.::
Bernard: Let's see... 101.... 999.... 57. Yes! Now with the combination there's... ::with:: even less in the way now of me saving the world! I-
Voice from the monitor: Dr. Fred Edison?
Bernard: Huh? ::He turns to the screen.::
Sharp-dressed man: Internal Revenue. Come with us. We'd like to go over some of your records with you... upstairs.
::The sharp-dressed man and another equally sharp-dressed man carry the comatose Dr. Fred off to the audit of his life. Okay, that's it, Mr. Writer. I've had enough of you fooling around with the plotline. I don't know what your problem is, mister, but you've got a lot of nerve-::
Joe...
~The Management
::Huh? What?::
This IS part of the storyline.
~The Management
::Are you sure?::
Positive. Now clam up. We'll handle the writer if he starts ad-libbing again.
~The Management
::Okay. Well, Bernard, you're in a lot of trouble now.::
Bernard: You can say that again.
::Now, not only do you have to foil an evil genius tentacle, but to do it, you've got to save Dr. Fred from the most vicious band of thugs in modern history.::
Bernard: You don't mean...
::Yes, I do. But for dramatic purposes, you can say it.::
Bernard: I have to take down... the IRS?
Chorus: Bum bum buuuuuuum!
::Does Bernard dare live out the American dream? Will Hoagie get his revenge on George Washington? What of Laverne? Where is that hamster going, anyway? The answers to these questions, and more, coming... EVENTUALLY!::
Bernard: Mind if I top you off there, Dr. Fred?
Dr. Fred: You even try it and I'll feed you to my mutant tentacle!
Bernard: Um... isn't that who we're trying to stop?
Dr. Fred: Oh! Right.... sorry, I just need to get used to not having that line to use. It's quite the pants-wetter, especially to women... I wonder why that is?
Bernard: *ugh*...
We would like to take this time out now to remind you that this is a PG-13 fanfic, thus any disgusting connotations you or your children derive from anything you read are legally not our responsibility. So don't even think of challenging us or our team of fifty high-priced lawyers. Thank you.
~The Management
Bernard: (drat!) Anyway, I was talking about your coffee.
Dr. Fred: Oh! Of... course. Go right ahead, less work for me.
Bernard: Oh, splendid!
::Eagerly, suspicious Bernard pours suspicious coffee from a suspicious pot, suspiciously.::
Dr. Fred: Ah, excellent. ::he raises the cup to his lips... then stops.:: You know... there's something funny about this coffee...
Bernard: Um... I... don't know what you're talking about... Dr... Fred! It's coffee, right from your favorite pot!
Dr. Fred: No, no... this seems... different somehow. Like... something's... missing.
::Bernard takes a few steps back, ready to bolt out of the mansion at any given moment. His experiences with former writer Wendy Hemingway had taught him that giving a coffee addict decaf was akin to tugging on Superman's cape, or spilling beer on the Duke, or stealing lunch from Roseanne::
Dr. Fred: Oh, of course, what am I thinking? ::Dr. Fred produces a hefty bag of sugar from out of nowhere and pours some in the cup before tucking it back into the thin air from whence it came::
Bernard: How... how did you do that?
Dr. Fred: Never mind. Edna sent you down here, didn't she?
Bernard: Huh? What do you mean?
Dr. Fred: She's been doing things like this for weeks now, trying to get me to quit drinking this stuff... electrodes, cyanide, pointed sticks... and now she sends you to give me decaf!
Bernard: D.... decaf? I... I don't know what you mean! ::Bernard inches towards the door...::
Dr. Fred: Oh, get over yourself, there's no need to be scared. Us coffee drinkers aren't the type to just snap and go on a six-state strangling spree at the slightest change in their routine.
Bernard: But what about... the Wendy incident?
Dr. Fred: That's different. Wendy was a professional writer. Now THOSE are your real loonies. They'll snap at the slightest thing, they will. They're crazies, the whole lot of them!
::Just then, a giant mallet squashes Dr. Fred into a fine paste, while Bernard- wait, what's going on here? What are you doin- GAACK::
Due to this recent outburst, our writer has been placed in time-out for five minutes. He can come out and play later.
~The Management.
Okay, he's better now. We now return you to the fanfic, already in progress.
~The Management
Bernard: DR. FRED! Are you alright?
From BEFORE the hammer, you.
~The Management
::Splooshsplooshgush::
And put Joe's head back on!
~The Management
::*Gasp* whew, that's better.::
Now cut it out and get back to the story. Don't make us go out there and smack you around.
~The Management
::Okay. Now, forgetting that little outburst...::
Dr. Fred: Anyway, yes, this is decaf, i'm sure of it.
Bernard: That's crazy!
Dr. Fred: Come now, boy, didn't you read the opening? I was the one who put Starbucks on the map! You thought I couldn't tell the difference between coffee and swill?
Bernard: ..... well... I...
Dr. Fred: Now, now, I bet Edna didn't tell you, either. This is just another one of her ploys to get me to quit drinking coffee... but it's not going to work, I tell you! Hey, Edna! Watch THIS!
::Dr. Fred promptly drinks the stuff and, without the caffeine to support his long sleepless streak, goes out cold on his feet. Then, true to Edna's word, he stiff-arms, and promptly begins to sleepwalk his way up the stairs.::
Sleeping Dr. Fred: Must open safe... must sign contract.... must provide for... family...
Bernard: I... guess that worked...
Bernard: Okay, Nurse Edna, I got him to sleep! Now what?
Nurse Edna: You sure did! How'd you do it? Electrodes?
Bernard: Nope.
Nurse Edna: Cyanide?
Bernard: Nope.
Nurse Edna: Pointed sticks?
Bernard: Nope!
Nurse Edna: How?
Bernard: Decaf! I slipped some into his coffee.
Nurse Edna: You brave, brave soul! I've been frightened to try that since the Wendy incident. Say, did they ever identify those victims, anyway?
Bernard: They said there wasn't even enough left of their teeth to judge.
Nurse Edna: That's too bad. Anyway, I have him here on the screen. Come on over here, hot stuff. Yeeheeheeeheehee!
::Bernard, rather reluctantly, goes on over to the monitor featuring Dr. Fred's office, and sees him there- fiddling with the knob on the wall safe, opening the door, screaming like a hamster in a microwave,::
Weird Ed: ::twitch::
::and slamming it shut, only to repeat over and over.::
Nurse Edna: Can you see the combination?
Bernard: No, he's going too fast... say, what's this switch over here?
::Nurse Edna peers on over::
Nurse Edna: Oh, that's just the speed switch on the video recorde- OF COURSE! Bernard, you're a genius!
Bernard: Aw, shucks... ::he blushes::
Nurse Edna: I can just record Fred working the combination, then play it back in slow-speed to catch the combination! Then we can get the contract and we'll be rich, rich, rich! Oh, you little genius you... ::Edna springs from her chair and gives Bernard a nice, icky hug:: Just think, with the money we'll get from that thing, I can move to a new place in the Bahamas!
Bernard: But Dr. Fred needs to...
Nurse Edna: ::plops back down into her chair:: Dr. Fred needs to butt out! I've been shakin' my booty to make ends meet for three years now, while he's been playing with his toys in the basement.
Bernard: But we need to-
Nurse Edna: We need to get that combination already! Then you and I can run off together
Bernard: You and... ::gulp:: I?
::Oh, no! Nurse Edna is amorous! What will Bernard do?::
Nurse Edna: Just think about it... you... and me... on some beach somewhere... while my idiot son and worthless husband furrow their brows in a vain attempt to discover what happened to their money... lying in the sun... our bodies... nearly naked... ooh,
Bernard: ::cowering against the wall:: but what about.... Patrick Swayze?
Nurse Edna: Patrick... who? NOW GIMMIE A KISS!
Bernard: No touchee! ::nudge::
Nurse Edna: WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee::CRASH!::
Bernard: ....
::Yes, Bernard's limp-wristed nudge was just enough to send Nurse Edna back into her chair and careening out the door, down the stairs, and out of the picture for the rest of this story. Thank you Bernard, for saving us all.::
Bernard: well... you know what they say... if you wanna save the world, you have to push a few old ladies down the stairs.
::After this calm moment of rationalization, Bernard sets to work. Yes, Dr. Fred is still opening and closing the safe, and with *shudder* her out of the way, Bernard is free to record and play back the tape in slow motion.::
Bernard: Let's see... 101.... 999.... 57. Yes! Now with the combination there's... ::with:: even less in the way now of me saving the world! I-
Voice from the monitor: Dr. Fred Edison?
Bernard: Huh? ::He turns to the screen.::
Sharp-dressed man: Internal Revenue. Come with us. We'd like to go over some of your records with you... upstairs.
::The sharp-dressed man and another equally sharp-dressed man carry the comatose Dr. Fred off to the audit of his life. Okay, that's it, Mr. Writer. I've had enough of you fooling around with the plotline. I don't know what your problem is, mister, but you've got a lot of nerve-::
Joe...
~The Management
::Huh? What?::
This IS part of the storyline.
~The Management
::Are you sure?::
Positive. Now clam up. We'll handle the writer if he starts ad-libbing again.
~The Management
::Okay. Well, Bernard, you're in a lot of trouble now.::
Bernard: You can say that again.
::Now, not only do you have to foil an evil genius tentacle, but to do it, you've got to save Dr. Fred from the most vicious band of thugs in modern history.::
Bernard: You don't mean...
::Yes, I do. But for dramatic purposes, you can say it.::
Bernard: I have to take down... the IRS?
Chorus: Bum bum buuuuuuum!
::Does Bernard dare live out the American dream? Will Hoagie get his revenge on George Washington? What of Laverne? Where is that hamster going, anyway? The answers to these questions, and more, coming... EVENTUALLY!::