A/N: Sigh. This is a disturbing short little fic to follow up my last…um…little masterpiece. Snorts Red apple jelly beans make me happy. Anyway, as much as I'm sure you all love these stoner stories eye roll I will be getting back to normal (or at least what passes as normal for me) fics after this. Ciao!
Psycho + Copa Cabana ?
Melissa was not happy about being forced to come to work on a Saturday. It was not her fault if the idiots in the genetic lab had allowed an octoskunk to escape. Why did she have to help chase it down? …And why the hell had they been wasting time creating something that was half-octopus, half skunk?
As she sat down at her desk to run security scans for the stupid thing, she decided that she would first check her e-mail. She was entitled. Stupid octoskunk. She went through her mail quickly, until she got to one with an attachment. It took her a minute to scan it for viruses and verify the sender, but finally she got it saved into her computer. Seeing that it was a .wav file, she minimized that part of the screen while waiting for it to start working.
She continued reading her mail, and had forgotten all about the file, as she was reading a rather interesting email concerning some new DVD of her favorite cartoon that was coming out. However, she was interrupted by this rather happy news by some sort of odd music. After recognizing it as a poorly-recorded version of Copa Cabana, she remembered the minimized window at the bottom of the screen and pulled it back up.
The clip was automatically looped, and the scientist had been staring at the screen, transfixed, for a full 8.5 minutes. Snapping out of it, she pushed all thoughts of the stupid octoskunk out of her mind, and saved the file onto a disk. Because she knew that a certain boss's relative came in on Saturdays anyway, Melissa knew exactly what to do with the disk.
Walking briskly down the hallway, she ignored the chaos about her as the search for the octoskunk went on. Marching right up to Abigail's office door, she knocked loudly, and waited as the door was opened by the occupant of the room.
Abigail stared at Melissa, waiting for her to give some reason for knocking on her door. When none was offered, Abigail sighed. "Did you find the skocto-thingy?"
"Octoskunk, and no."
"Well then, guess what you should be doing!" Abigail clapped her hands with mock enthusiasm.
"Giving you this?" Melissa held out the disk.
Abigail narrowed her eyes. "If this is another computer virus, I swear I'll-"
"It's not."
"What is it?"
"Just a little something I got in my mail this morning. I figured you would know what would be best to do with it."
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Being a cyborg, Saturday was a required off-day for Psycho, so at about 9 AM, he decided it would be a good time to get out of bed and make himself some pop-tarts. Even though he was a cyborg and didn't really have to eat to survive, he still liked to exercise his superior cooking skills. While he waited for the toaster things to cook, he decided to turn on the TV and see which of his fits of mayhem had recently made it into the news.
Settling down in front of his newly-stolen television in his bathrobe, Psycho was as happy as a clam until he actually turned the apparatus on and listened to what the forecaster was saying. It didn't take too long before he noticed the picture at the corner of the screen that was the current topic of conversation. It included him, a fruit hat, and a colorful dress. He smelled burnt pop tart.
The anchorman was just beginning the segment it seemed. He didn't seem quite done flirting with the weather girl. Finally, he snapped out of it, probably remembering what she looked like without all the makeup on, cleared his throat, and went on to report on the world's news. "The newest internet phenomenon is one that's occurred at around 7 AM today. Reports from local news stations worldwide have reported that computers across the northern hemisphere have simultaneously stopped working…except for this display on their monitors. Here we have a video of what has replaced the normal functions of these machines."
At that point, the television was overtaken by a video of the happenings at Camp Daffodil. Psycho chose not to watch. Going to his toaster oven, he saw that his pop tarts were piles of black charcoal. Joy.
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Max and Berto were in the middle of a teamwork exercise, (Max in the field and Berto in the console room). Max had just arrived at a fork in a simulated hallway. "Which way?" he asked his friend via biolink. All he got in response was a strange gasping noise.
Worried about Berto, Max yelled "Berto, talk to me!"
Berto made an attempt to tell Max that everything was all right, but all he could manage to get out was a strangled sounding "fruit hat!"
Not hesitating, Max ran back to the console room as fast as he could, fearing the worst. However, when he got there, he saw Berto was perfectly fine, except for the fact that he was helpless with laughter.
Hearing Max's arrival, Berto made an another attempt to explain, was overcome with another laughing fit, fell off his chair, and just pointed at the console screen. Max stared at the screen in shock, and then went to help Berto up off the floor. Shaking his head sadly, he said "I knew something like this was going to happen from the first day they opened this section on was back on his swivel chair. "Oh, you know you love it." And with that, he pushed a few buttons, and Max suddenly heard Copa Cabana playing in his head.
Max was horrorstricken. "You did not just do that!" He lunged at the console, but Berto hit a blue button, sealing himself and the console inside a newly added security force field. Max bounced off the force field and landed on the floor. Berto turned up the volume and started dancing along to the music in his swivel chair.
"I'm telling Jeff!" Max ran down the hallway yelling the name of his surrogate father as loud as he could.
Berto, knowing his paycheck could be on the line ran along behind Max. "Mr. Smith! Max is hearing things inside his head again! He needs another psychiatric evaluation! Whatever he says it's not true!"
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Abigail was in her office whistling along to the video playing on her monitor when her grandfather paged her on the intercom. "Dear, may I speak to you for a moment in my office?"
Abigail remained calm. "Whatever about!" she asked innocently.
"I'm waiting," he said lightly.
Abigail sighed and took the very long walk to Dread's office, three doors away. "Did you want to play a game of chess?" she started. "I've been practicing-"
Dread smiled and slowly shook his head. He turned the monitor of his computer towards her and gestured towards it. "I suppose you can tell me what this is all about?"
"Why, it looks like Psycho dancing to the Copa Cabana song…maybe you should be asking why he's doing that instead."
"How do I get rid of it?"
"By pressing F13," she answered slyly.
He didn't have to look down at his keyboard. "My dear, keyboards don't have an F13 key."
Abigail smiled deviously. "Mine does."
Dread glanced back at the monitor, and thought for a moment. "All right, just have it down by Thursday."