Think the telletubbies are innocent and harmless just because they are all completely helpless and stupid? Well think again.

They might be stupid but whatever evil plot they put their minds to they carry out. Mostly at other peoples expenses though...Read on and see what I mean.

Over the hills and far away, the telletubbies are having a typical day. Po is stealing crack, cocaine, and marijuana from whoever

he can get it from and is now storing his ill-gotten gains in a large vault wherein lies a great and continually growing wealth of such drugs, Dipsy, is drinking moonshine until he can barely stand straight, and Tinky-Winky is being a transsexual (in fact, he is said to have told his tubby parents who changed his diapers for 20 years that he was a woman, and they actually believed him) La-La is stealing candy from babies as he has been doing ever since his armed robbery attempts failed miserably. So far this was a pretty typical day - a pretty typical day until Po brought up his plan to detonate the Department of the Treasury.

Up the hill came Po, skipping in a state of perfect ecstasy toward the other telletubbies and their home, that nameless object which was nothing more than a poor imitation of a Hobbit-hole. As he was approaching they all wondered at the cause his sudden effervescence, that effervescence that could only have come from his occasional overdose of alcohol and drugs. "Yo, Po, what's up?" Dipsy said.

"U-uh, um, you all know that-that adage," Po began, when his sentence was cut short by a slowly manifesting laughter. "Y-y-you-heh heh,'' Po struggled to speak as his laughter reached its climax. "You know that adage: 'Money can't buy happiness'?" Just then everybody joined in to the laughter. It soon died out and Po began to regain control of himself. "Isn't that ridiculous? It's bought us everything from alcohol to drugs to constipation medicines, and what do you think all that is? ...Ahem, uh, that's not the subject of this conversation. What I want to tell you is... is... Oh yes, about my plan to blow up the Department of the Treasury." Everybody was astounded. He said this with the perfunctory manner of a ten year old talking about an ordinary day at school. But they knew he was serious. He could never be that happy unless he was thinking of something extraordinarily evil. But why hadn't anybody thought of this before? That much was obvious. None of those idiots ever had the presence of mind to think of it.

"But how could we do dat?" Dipsy inquired.

"With explosives," Po answered.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"After we steal them, of course, like just about everything else we've acquired in our lives," Po continued.

"Well, we're not sure if we really want to," replied those fat, lazy S.O.B.s in the colored suits.

"C'mon, think about it for a moment," Po chided. "Remember that large vault I had built into the dome, where I store all the goodies? Suppose the project is a success. We'll be able to buy that stuff as if it were peanuts. We'll have so much money left over we could use the spare bills for marijuana joints. We won't even have to worry about sharing what's in the vault anymore. I'm tired of sharing, anyway. Especially after I've earned most of it."

Dipsy was getting confused. "Earned it? But-I thought you said you stole it all.'' Po was almost annoyed at this. He felt as if Dipsy was trying to trap him.

"It's not as easy as you think. I had to look pretty hard for those crack dens. Oh, well. We can discuss the rest of the plan over lunch." With that they hustled over to the garage where Po kept his stolen truck, and hopped in.

"Wait a second," Dipsy said. Why not just walk home? It's only about 10 feet away." Just then Po's eyes lit up with an ardent expression of anger.

''Smart Aleck," Po said quietly, and drove toward towards the dome.

After the tubbies came in and sat down to a table already set with bowls of tubby custard, that thick slop that looked like colored diarrhea, Po got out a notebook and began to think over his plan. But not before he had to go to the bathroom. ''Uh-uh-I have to go to the bathroom," he said nervously. "Quick, I need earmuffs and two corks for my nose! Oh, and don't forget the CD player with the rap music, 'cause I'm gonna be in there for a while. They handed him all the required objects and he ran straight to the crapper, giving a word of warning: "I have a big one coming out; you better hold your noses." As he reached his destination he sat down with a sigh of relief and began to write down the steps of his plan.

No.1: git tnt for boming.

No.2: hav cuzin bild rocket go to dc.

Translated into coherent English, with a few other needful embellishments, this would be:

No.1 Get TNT for bombing.

No.2 Have cousin build rocket ship and launch it for Washington D.C.

(His cousin is a scientist, one of his very few relatives who succeeded in life)

Not much of a plan. Po got off the toilet, hopped his way out of the bathroom and through the hall, which was virtually the whole house. "I've got it, everybody, I've got it all down on paper.'' After hopping a few feet more Po tripped on his own feet and did a somersault accidentally. The other tubbies helped him up and Dipsy gave him a bit of advice.

"I have a suggestion. Just pull up your suit. It'll make it easier for you to walk without tripping."

''Aw, I should've thought of that," Po said seriously. ''I've got all the plans ready for the bombing on that notebook I just dropped. I'll have my cousin Bumsy help us with it. Just let me go back and wipe my butt, then were ready to go."

II.At Bumsy's labratory

They neared Bumsy's laboratory, proceeding hastily towards his facility, not even caring to see if there were any guards. They were now nearing the entrance where was a pair of automatic doors. Stepping back to get a running start, they bolted towards the door with all their might, crashed through, and announced their arrival. But to their surprise, no one seemed to hear them. They turned around to find a large corridor from which seemed to emanate strange noises, like something from a Michael Jackson song. They hobbled down the corridor drunkenly till at last they found the source of the sound.

They came upon a room where a number of people, people all in uniforms, probably the guards, were listening and dancing to music played almost deafeningly loud. ''Turn it off," Po yelled at a moderate volume. No one listened. They only continued dancing like drunken fools. Now Po was getting mad. "TURN IT OFF!" he yelled again. But still they continued. He decided that was the last straw. He reached into his soiled suit and pulled out a revolver. He looked about the room until he found the boom box that was playing the music, and sent three bullets into it. He then began working on a stack of Michael Jackson CD's lying right next to it when an agonized shriek resonated through the room. "NOOOOOOOOOOO! Not the Michael Jackson records!'' a familiar voice cried. It was Bumsy.