Breaded Rainbows

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fan-fic because I don't have any money. Of course, I'm better off than those poor people in the streets, and do you know why? Because in order to get where I am today, I had to work as hard as I could to spend my money lavishly. It's not easy, and sometimes Lavishly would slap my face if I got fresh. Anyway, I only really own the pot… plot.

Chapter One: A Simple Demonstration

"Attention! Attention!" called Dr. Peterson, the man running the meeting. The room is filled with doctors chatting with one another, and they silence at the yelling of their commander.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, for many years we have introduced new members to our Medicine Club, and we have grown into a much bigger organization than we were when the club was founded."

He pauses for a second, while the doctors still try to figure out where he is getting at.

"However, on this meeting, I felt it was appropriate to formally introduce our newest member, as he is a world-famous psychologist. He has received degrees from over ten different institutes," he declared. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Medicine Club, I give you Dr. Everett Wishtison!"

The audience applauds, and out walks a strange-looking mustached man with glasses and a cigar. He walks on and shakes Dr. Peterson's hand.

"Welcome to the Medicine Club, Dr. Wishtison," Peterson said.

Wishtison looks around and said, "Okay, I see the club, but where's the bat? You know, I hate bats. They're so slimy."

"Baseball bats are slimy?"

"No, fruit bats. Speaking of which, why don't I do a little demonstration for the kiddies out there."

Wishtison pulls a large couch from off-stage and beckons Peterson to lie down. Wishtison sits down in a small armchair and starts off the role-playing.

"Now, what seems to be the problem, besides the fact that I'm diagnosing you during breakfast?"

"Well, I keep seeing spots in my house. What should I do?"

Wishtison lights his cigar while replying, "Repaint the walls. Now, is there anything else I should know about before I use your mouth as an ashtray?"

Peterson looks slightly baffled, but says, "Doctor, I think I'm seeing little people everywhere. What could that mean?"

"Well, either you're an even bigger idiot than I first thought, or you live in that little town Gulliver sailed to. Now, do you have a wife?"

"Of course I do. But I am worried about our marriage. I fear she might leave me soon."

"Let me give you a recipe for the foundation of love. First, you take some caramel and mix it with cement, because love is as sticky as caramel and as hard as cement. Then you place a large hunk of chocolate inside the mix, to symbolize the melting of Cupid when he was accused of witchcraft."

Peterson looks at Wishtison and whispers, "That was not part of the role-playing, Doctor."

Wishtison whispers back, "Role-playing? I thought you had real problems."

Peterson decides to stop the role-playing and takes out an award. "Doctor Everett Q. Wishtison, we are also here to present to you an award for outstanding performance in your field."

Wishtison answers, "I didn't know I was playing football. Here, go long!"

He throws the award across the stage and it breaks into a hundred pieces.

Peterson loses it and yells out, "Doctor Wishtison! This is not a football field! This is a club! Club! Club! Club!"

Wishtison looks at Peterson, says, "Okay, if you insist," and clubs him on the knee. Peterson stands up and hobbles off stage.

"Now that the demonstration is over, who'd like to buy this lamp made out of an Asian skeleton? Now that's bone China."

The doctors see how fine a lamp it is and start yelling out numbers.

"I'd give you $50 for it!"

"$50? I bought it for $50! Excuse me for trying to make a living out of swindling people. Now then, let's get down to brass tax. After that, we can talk about the iron and nickel taxes. I am indeed a psychologist, but in any case, psychologists are such snobs. I can assure you that I am not a snob. I'm not a jerk. But I am self-centered. I think the whole world revolves around me. If only I were right. But I'm not right, nor am I a Wright. My uncle was a Wright, and my other uncle was a Wright, and that is why man can fly. Well, forget the man, let's just start on the woman."

Wishtison sits down casually onstage, and everyone in the audience is whispering to themselves. A young man walks on and starts talking to Wishtison.

"Doctor, we have a problem. Your entire office has just lost power."

Wishtison looks very casual about the situation and answers, "So what if the power's out? At least the electricity's fine. By the way, Frank, how much was that building insured for?"

Frank answers, "Why, $2000."

"Okay," Wishtison replies. "Hire someone to burn it for me. I paid $500 for it."

Wishtison starts pacing back and forth on the stage, twirling around dramatically whenever he gets to the edge of the stage. Finally, Peterson hobbles back onstage and grunts, "Meeting adjourned."

"And it's about time too," says Wishtison, as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rather large rope that he uses to lasso Peterson's legs. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," Wishtison continues, "is why cows howl at the sun on Hanukkah."

Everyone gets up and walks out, murmuring to each other about the ridiculous display they just saw. Wishtison, meanwhile, is walking to his car with Frank. Frank gets into the car, but just then Wishtison spots an ice-cream cart run by an Italian vendor.

"Say, have you got rocky road?" asks Wishtison.

"No," replied the ice cream man, "but this-a is a rocky road what-a we stand on, eh, Cap?"

"Never mind. I'm allergic anyway. What about coffee?"

"All I sell is-a ice cream. I no gotta drinks."

Wishtison sighs and moans, "It's times like this that I wish big business ruled the land, so that the little business wouldn't irk me. The big business would irk me even more, but a little irk goes a long way if you stretch it like taffy."

"I don't gotta taffy either."

Wishtison starts running around the cart singing "Home on the Range" in a deep Southern voice.

"This guy's-a crazy," the ice cream man mumbles.

"Well then," continues Wishtison after recovering, "what do you have, Mister Ice Cream?"

"No, my name-a no Ice Cream. I'm-a Holigelato. Julio Hoilgelato."

"Holy gelato?"

"No, all I got is-a holey ice cream that-a looks like-a swiss cheese."

"Isn't ice cream made from cheese?" asks Wishtison.

Holigelato stops to think, but he's interrupted by a man running frantically over to the stand.

"Sir, I need some ice cream and fast."

"Okay, whadda you want?"

"Anything! There's a lunatic running around with hot coals in his pocket!"

Wishtison looks interestingly at the man and says, "Who is it, Santa Claus coming to visit the naughty kids a wee bit early?"

"No, hurry!"

Holigelato puts a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a cup and gives it to the man. All of a sudden, a crazy red-haired guy runs over to them, takes a few hot coals, and puts it in the other man's pocket. Wishtison watches this and asks, "Is this how you get business? Or is it how you get girls?"
Holigelato answers, "No, thatsa how I get people to leave me alone. Hey, nice work, partner."

The red-haired man honks a horn and throws another hot coal at someone.

Wishtison points to the red-haired man and asks, "Could I possibly bring this guy to my furnace? I need coals."

"No, this is-a my partner, but he-a no speak. I don't even-a know what-a his name is."

Wishtison pretends to think for a few seconds, and then says, "Just call him Silent Bob."

Holigelato looks confusedly at Wishtison, but then laughs and says, "Oh, you mean-a the singer."

"A silent singer? That's just not right. What'll they think of next, a helpful politician?"

Just then, Frank walks over to the stand, and whispers to Wishtison, "Sir, we had better leave."

"Nonsense!" declares Dr. Wishtison. "I wanted to hire these young fellows to come work for me. Whadda you say to that, holy mackeral?

"Itsa gelato, and I-a accept as-a long as I can-a bring-a my partner."

"Can he operate?"

"Sure-a he can. Hey, partner! Show the Doc whadda you do."

Silent Bob nods and pulls a rather large stethoscope out of his pocket. He takes the stethoscope and hits Holigelato on the knee. Then he pulls an x-ray out of his other pocket and points from the crack on the x-rayed knee to Wishtison's head.

Wishtison looks at the broken knee and says, "No wonder my foot is throbbing. It's in my head." He looks at Silent Bob and asks, "You haven't got a CAT scan in there, do you?"

Silent Bob nods again and pulls a cat out of his coat pocket. The tag on the collar says "Scan."

Holigelato laughs and says, "Eh, thatsa whadda you call 'cross section.'"

While Silent Bob and Holigelato are talking to themselves, Frank takes Dr. Wishtison to the car and they get inside.

"You ought to be more careful, sir," says Frank. "There's a rumor going around that your old rival Gunther Ransem is trying to get men on the inside."

Wishtison looks outraged and says, "How dare he try to put his men on my inside! If he really wanted to spy on me, he'd put them in the inside! The nerve of some people!"

Meanwhile, at a small office all the way across town, Gunther Ransem, the rival in question, is busy on the phone with someone.

"Now, now, then," he says with a hint of malice in his voice. "It's only fair that you do this one favor for me, my dear. After all, you owe me."

"I don't owe you a thing, you hear me?" yells the woman on the other end. This woman has curly blond hair and is wearing a black dress. "I'm not your girl anymore, Gunther Ransem! You're a corrupt, evil, backstabbing crook, and I'm not doing anything for you!"

Ransem just smiles and replies, "Au contraire, my dear. You will do what I want, and do you know why?" Without waiting for an answer, he continues, "Because I have your records, and if you don't want the authorities to come banging on your doorstep, you will do as I say!"

The woman looks a little pale, but replies, "Fine! But what do you want me to do?"

"Well, Anna, I want you to join the offices of Dr. Everett Q. Wishtison as a secretary. Get close to him. And when the time comes, steal everything he owns and bring it to me! And if you fail, not only will I show your record to the police, I will personally rip you apart! Do you understand?"

Anna looks terrified, but says, "Yes."

Meanwhile, back in Wishtison's car, Frank and Wishtison are discussing hiring new employees.

"Now, as I was saying, sir, we are going to need to hire a bush load of doctors."

"Bush load? It might as well be a shrub load. We need foliage more than we need doctors."

"But you need a secretary. Who's going to dictate your letters?"

Wishtison puts on a very dramatic voice and says, "What's wrong with you today, Frank? Don't you know that I dictate the letters and they write them?"

"Of course, my apologies, Dr. Wishtison."

"I'll take two," he says, lighting a cigar. "Now then, what about hiring a whole team of surgeons for the second floor? By the hours I'm working, I'll have a broken backbone every night."

Frank pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and says, "But it says here that you already booked the veterinarians to that floor."

"Well, close the book and put it in the attic. Say, that's a good idea. Do we have an attic for the vets?"

"No," says Frank, "but we could put them in the large room above the top floor."

Wishtison stares at Frank's ears for a few seconds and says, "I'm trying to find the little men shoving earwax in there."

The driver calls back, "Dr. Wishtison, we're arriving at your complex."

Wishtison calls up, "Which one? A mother complex or a father complex? I like girls with father complexes. After all, I am a father."

Frank looks at Wishtison and says, "I didn't know you had a son."

"I don't."

"Then how come you're a father?"

Wishtison rolls his eyes, looks at the viewer, and says, "Susan B. Anthony, you worked in vain." Then he turns to Frank and says, "I have a daughter, Anthony… Frank."

"Oh," says Frank in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"Of course you don't," retorts Wishtison. "There's a lot of things that you don't know, Frank. Take the Civil War. Who was the guy who stated the Proclamation of Decimation… Emancipation?"

"Oh, that's easy. Linc…"

"Good try. Give up? It was Lincoln. Now I'll give you an easy one. If two fish mate with two wildebeests, would they be acquatic-based or land-based? Or would they be third-based and not make it home?"

"Hmm… I don't know," admits Frank.

"I don't know either," admits Wishtison, "but I can tell you that things are bound to get worse."

Just then, Holigelato and Silent Bob pull up in a motorbike with a passenger seat. Holigelato says, "Hey there, Cap! We've-a come for-a the job!"

Wishtison groans and says, "What did I tell you?"

Chapter Two: The Facility- Wishtison shows Holigelato and Silent Bob the entire building, and Frank meets Wishtison's daughter Polly for the first time. Meanwhile, Anna starts to flirt with Holigelato a little. Find out the rest when it comes out!