Bumsy continued shrieking and stumbled at Po's feet. He had changed a lot since Po had seen him last. He now had sideburns and a goatee, and wore a blue suit. Po almost barely recognized him. "What happened," Po said sardonically. ''You used to wear a pink suit, and what's with the hideous sideburns and goatee?'' Bumsy then pulled out a pipe and began to smoke it as all conscientious scientists do when about to explain something and sat down in a chair.

"Ahem,"he began. ''A-a-hem, ahem, a-a-a-a-hem, a-a- he continued clearing his throat till it was just about right.

''GET ON WITH IT!" Po yelled viciously. He pulled out his revolver and shot the pipe out of his mouth.

"No,no,'' Bumsy cried in a British accent. ''First my Jackson records,now this? Guards! Seize them!" The guards all made desperate motions for their weapons only to find that they were not there.

''Our weapons,they're gone!'' one of them said. "We-we left them at the bar!''

"What do you want? I don't have nuttin'," Bumsy lied.

"I want," Po began. "I want you to build me a rocket and launch it to D.C. so I can blow up the Department of the Treasury and get the dough after the project's over."

"Nonsense" Bumsy said. "You really think I'll help you do such a thing?

"Well," Po continued. "I have all the guns and explosives and I take out yer family if ya doesn't."

Bumsy looked shocked. How did Po know all these things after all the years he'd been away from him? "Go ahead," Bumsy said dejectedly. "I could never aid you in such a monstrous deed, even for their lives. They wouldn't want me to!"

Now Po tried his plan B. "All right, and after I'm done I'll comb the house through and through,and whatever I find useful I'll take home. I've been waiting to add to my collection of Playboy mags for a long time,anyway."

Bumsy's face broke into a cold sweat.

"Oh, and do you have anymore of the Michael Jackson CD's under the bed like you used too?" Po asked.

"All right, All right,'' Bumsy cried in an agonized manner. "I'll help you."

A few hours later

Bumsy worked on the rocket, as Po kept a revolver aimed at his back.

"Uh, Bumsy,uh, I want to ask my question once again, since you never answered. Why the sideburns, goatee, and blue suit?''

"To get the chicks,I guess"

"Oh."

"Tell ya what, Po, how's about we have a smoke, my treat."

"Sure, where's the crack 'n cocaine?" Po said.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, let's not get carried away! I just said, let's have a smoke. I don't do no drugs." Bumsy had a strangely low vocabulary for somone of his eminence.

"Bummer," Po said.

"However, I do have some tobacco."

"Ok," Po said. Po was dissapointed, but at least he could still smoke tobacco. It would be a change from all the years of smoking cocaigne. But it still didn't give him the sensation and the ecstasy he got from the drugs which he had come to know and love.

"It's over there in one of the boxes, Po" bumsy advised. Po went over to one of the boxes and pulled out a pipe and what he thought was some tobacco. Po spilled the contents into the pipe, lit it, and smoked. From all the smoke he exhaled Bumsy could almost tell that he smoked it all in one puff.

"Now for some more," Po announced to no one in particular. Bumsy groaned.

"You're supposed to smoke it slowly, Po," he said exasperatedly. You don't just take it in in one puff." He then resumed his work on the rocket. Po then started to chuckle randomly.

"He-he,he,he,he."

"Oh no," Bumsy groaned. He suddenly remembered that Po's mind, as well as all the other's, cracked up randomly at certain times. Bumsy tried to ignore it until it got even worse and soon became intolerable. "Po, will you please stop that, it's really getting on my nerves!

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha---E-eh-eh-eh-ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Then Po gave off a loud, deafening shout of "BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" and whipped out his revolver and sent

a shower of bullets throughout the room.

"TAKE COVER!" Bumsy shouted and the guards as well as the other three tubbies rolled and ducked behind whatever shielding obstacles they could find. Well, not the tubbies. They walked in plain sight and took slow strides till they found something to hide behind, which was a wooden chair. All three of them hid behind this one chair. If Po was any smarter they would be dead. Bumsy slid along the floor quietly, trying desperately to get to the boxes so he could have a smoke while he waited for Po to stop shooting. He reached into the box Po took the pipe out of and he soon realized why Po had gotten so vicous. He reached in and

pulled out a bag of hashish! Although his mind had just cracked like it always did, he wasn't that usually that violent. Not usually. He had smoked the hashish

by mistake and now they were all paying for it. Po's revolver just depleted of its six bullets as Bumsy spotted another gun laying on the floor. He crawled toward it slowly, hoping Po wouldn't notice. He was just to grab it until Po came and stepped on it. Bumsy was in plain sight and Po raised the weapon at him.

"Give me some crack cocaigne," he said darkly.

"But-but I-"

"Now!"

"Uh-all right. Just stay calm and I'll give it to you. Bumsy cogitated on this and found an answer to his problem. He had been to a hotel some time ago and had taken some home. From his scientific studies he knew that crack cocaigne looked like tan soap. Like the soap one would get from a hotel room. Po couldn't tell the difference. Even if he smelled it. He was exceptionally stupid.

Bumsy went on to go get it until he realized that Po had his gun to his back and followed him every step of the way. "Uh, will one of you go get my suitcase from

the room where the boom box was and give it to me?" he said to the guards. One of them went right over, got it and came right back.

"I've got it, but I don't know if it's the right one. All it has is some soa-"

"All right, just give it to me." His guards were always like that. Always lightheaded and dull. Bumsy reached in the bag and scrambled around till he found the bar

of soap and a plastic bag. He then crushed it into little pieces and put it into the bag. He handed the bag to the guard and he proceeded toward Po slowly.

"GIVE IT TO ME!" Po shouted. He raised the gun and fired.

"Ow!'' the guard exclaimed more in surprise than in pain.

"Why are you doing? He was just about to give it to you!" Bumsy inquired.

"That was only a warning"

"If it was only a warning, then why did you shoot him in the leg?"

"That was the warning, next time it'll be the heart. Now give it to me!" To their surprise the man came right over and handed it to Po.

"I'm all right, the bullet just barely grazed me," the guard whispered to Bumsy after he handed the bag to Po. Bumsy almost wondered if the frenzy was caused by

the hashish or if he was always like this when he was deprived of drugs. Po put the soap into a pipe and tried to smoke it, then went over to a chair and sat down,

being too stupid to realize that it wasn't even burning. He was like a child with a pacifier.

"Where did you get that hashish (he pronounced it haz-hish)stuff?" Po asked.

"I don't remember," Bumsy said, realizing that Po would probably have him get some of that too.

End of chapter II