(Dax groggily awakens to his unfamiliar surroundings. He finds himself on a cold, wet, slimy surface, like a dirty shower. In fact, he is in a dirty shower. Spencer's dirty shower.)

Dax: (Groans) Mommy? Ugh . . . where am I? (He looks around but sees nothing familiar.) How did I get here? Ahhh! (Suddenly realizes that he is in some sort of grimy, makeshift shower that is not only moist and unfamiliar, but covered in little black curly hairs.) Man, this is so nasty! (Stands erect, fumbles and slips around a little finally emerging and finding himself in an even bigger unfamiliar space.) What is this place? (Looks around some more trying to orient himself, but sees only an unfamiliar urine stained bed, an unfamiliar end-table with a single book on it, and a single suit hanging in the closet.)

(Then who should come in but the King of piss babies himself. Spencer strolls into the bathroom, naked, fat jiggling obscenely, humming a jolly tune, when both he and Dax catch sight of each other.)

Dax/Spencer: AAAHHHHH!

(Meanwhile, the other, more mature Rangers are waiting just outside Mack's bedroom while Rose summons the courage to tell him the truth.)

Will: Will you hurry up already? I want this reekish nightmare over with NOW.

Rose: Okay, fine! I'm going. (Knocks on the door) Mack?

(Knocks again, and this time the door slowly creaks open on its own. No one is inside.)

Rose: Oh, well. I guess we'll have to look elsewhere, like my house. Or the moon. Or maybe Chuckie Cheese's-

Ronnie: Oh no you don't.

Will: Yeah, you're not weenieing outta this one. We're at least gonna go inside.

Rose: No way. It's a violation of privacy.

Will: Aww, come on. (He and Ronnie drag her into the room.)

Ronnie: (Looking around) Wow, Mack has a Spencer-themed dartboard.

Will: (Goes to the bed) Barney bed sheets? (Scoffs) Mack is even lamer than I thought.

Rose: This isn't Mack's room.

Will: We're not going anywhere, Rose. You promised-

Rose: No, this really isn't his room. Why would he have a poster that says 'Anime will be my utter undoing'? (She points to a poster on the wall.)

Ronnie: Yeah, and look at that one. (Points to another poster that reads 'Cheese is the devil')

Will: Well if it's not Mack's, then whose is it?

Rose: (Picks up a book) Hey, guys, check this out. (Reads aloud) '101 Ways to Get Rid of Your Useless, Piss-Baby Butler and Make it Look Like an Accident'.

Will: Holy shit! Hartford's fixing to kill Spencer! (Mutters) Not like I mind . . .

(Out of nowhere, Dax runs in.)

Dax: Hey, guys. You won't believe what happened! I woke up in, get this, Spencer's SHOWER!

Will: You don't say.

Dax: Yeah! And look what I found! (Produces a book)

Rose: (Takes it and reads the title aloud) 'The Butler Did It! How To Get The Inheritance And Leave No Forensic Evidence'.

Will: (Jaw drops) This place is so fucked up. I'm starting to wish that I hadn't accepted this job.

Dax: Yeah, well, you can piss in one hand and shit in the other-

Will: The saying is, 'You can WISH in one hand and shit in the other', you dipshit.

Dax: Huh? I wasn't talking about wishes. I was talking about my twelfth birthday party.

Rose: That's disgusting!

Will: (Sarcastically) Yeah, nothing I'd rather hear about than your twelfth birthday party.

Dax: Yeah, I know! It was soooooo awesome! Everyone came dressed as rolls of paper towels and we each thought up a slogan to get our brand to sell. Mine was the best, of course.

Will: Oh yeah? What was it? The Quilted Quicker-Fucker Upper?

Rose: Guys, we'd better get out of here. Who know when Mr. Hartford might come back?

(Just then, Mr. Hartford enters.)

Mr. Hartford: (Annoyed) What are a bunch of stinky teenagers doing my room? Don't you have some drugs to do or something?

Will: WE'RE stinky?! What about your cheese-sucking son, Asshole The Second?

Mr. Hartford: Shut up. You don't have any room to complain. You're lucky I even let you in my house!

Rose: Um, hello?! We're saving the world, because YOU got it into this mess!

Mr. Hartford: Please. I'm rich. I don't need to be accountable for my actions.

Will: (Gapes in shock) You're a fucking douche bag, you know that?

Mr. Hartford: Whatever. Just get the hell out of my room. (He shows them to the door.)

Dax: Since when can YOU tell us what to do? You don't own us! Disney owns us!

Mr. Hartford: Wrong again, dumbass. Who do you think owns Disney?

Rose: No way . . . you?

Mr. Hartford: That's right. I bought it last week. I own you, I own Donald, Daisy and Goofy, I even own Mickey fuckin' Mouse! Hell, I own Walt Disney himself.

Rose: Mr. Hartford, you DO realize that Walt Disney is dead.

Mr. Hartford: And why do you think that is?

Ronnie: (Shocked) . . . you?

Mr. Hartford: What? Who said that? There's no evidence of that! Now get the hell out of here, before I REALLY own you!

(The four Rangers exit Mr. Hartford's room, but not but not before Dax leaves a pile of shit on the floor. Mr. Hartford lunges at him, poised to fuck him up, but Dax, thinking quickly for once, hastily shuts the door. Mr. Hartford slams into it and is knocked unconscious.)

(A little later, the Rangers meet in the Hartford's living room.)

Rose: Okay, obviously that didn't work.

Ronnie: Well, what if you didn't directly tell him? Like, you could write him a note or something.

Will: Personally, I really don't care, just as long as you get the message across.

Rose: That's it! I'll write him a poem! And you can all help me.

Ronnie: I'm in.

Will: I'll do anything!

Dax: Take it from a true romantic, no one writes better poems than me.

Rose: Dax, this isn't a love poem.

Dax: I didn't say love, I said romance. And take it from me, there is nothing more romantic than the smell of a semi-digested camel carcass, rotting in the desert. And I know, I know from personal experience, that is exactly what Mack smells like.

Will: (Disgusted) Are you saying that turns you ON?!

Dax: Huh? What gave you that idea?

Rose: Dax, that is totally disgusting. I'm trying to convey a message here, namely, that Mack reeks, and that is not a good thing.

Dax: (Shakes his head) Rose, just because you're conveying that message, it doesn't mean your poem can't still be romantic. Look, if that whole camel thing is to much for you, than here's what you should do. Mail him a dead woodchuck, along with a poem that says:

'My dearest Mack,

Unlike this woodchuck, my love for you will never die.

But like this woodchuck, you reek and need to take a bath.

Love,

Rose.'

Rose: Okay, first of all, that doesn't even rhyme, and second, who said I love him?!

Will: (Grins)Who said you didn't?

Ronnie: And why are you being so defensive?

Rose: That is SO not the point! Now, unless you guys want to be outlived by whatever's growing in his armpits, I say we get to work.

Will: (Shudders) Can't argue with that.

(And with that, the Rangers get to work on their respected poem ideas. About five minutes later, everyone but Rose has one.)

Rose: All right, give me your suggestions. I've got nothing.

Will: I wrote a Haiku. Check it out:

Mack, you're a great guy,

But I can't hang out with you

Because you reek.

Rose: No good. Your last line only has four syllables.

Will: Dammit. Okay, what if it was, 'Because you suck balls?'

Rose: Will, what's wrong with you? We're trying to tell him he reeks, not insult him! Next.

Ronnie: Okay, here's mine:

Mack, you know that I'll kiss you,

If the time should come,

But if you take a bath,

There's more where that came from.

Rose: Ronnie, no! What am I, a fucking whore? Next.

Dax: Okay, Here's the one I wrote.

Will: (Rolls his eyes) This should be a gem.

Dax: (Reading from his paper)

Roses are red,

Light bulbs are glass,

Shut up before I kick your ass!

Rose: Dax, you ripped that off of Mack! He said that in school last month when Will insulted Ruroni Kenshin.

Will: Hey, I've got an idea, Dax. Why don't you just change the last line?

Roses are red,

Light bulbs are glass,

You fucking reek like Dax's ass!

Dax: Hey, that's not fair! My ass does not reek!

Will: Yes it does! You never wipe!

Dax: That's not true! I wipe every week! Or just whenever it gets too itchy.

Rose: That DOES it! Obviously, you're all just immature, comatose, slack-jawed, unintelligent, incompetent babies! You can't do anything right! I'm just gonna have to tell Mack myself!

Mack: Tell me what?

(Rose turns and sees Mack, who has just entered the room.)

Rose: Oh, Mack! I was just . . . uh . . .

Mack: Hey, are you guys doing poetry?

Rose: Uh . . . yeah! Care to join us?

Mack: Sure! But what did you want to tell me?

Rose: Oh, it was nothing.

Mack: Come on, Rose. If you have something to say, then I definitely want to hear it.

Rose: (Trying to get her brain to work around her melting heart.) Uh . . .

Mack: Yes?

Rose: Mack, I find you entirely olfactometricly displeasing.

Mack: Wow, Rose. I didn't understand a word of that, but it sounded so sexy when you said it.

Rose: Oh, Mack . . .

Mack: You don't have to say anything. (He leans in, closer and closer. His stink wave hits her, and finally, she can take no more.)

Rose: Okay, Mack, I can't take it anymore! You reek! You smell bad, we're all dying, YOU NEED TO BATHE!

Mack: (Smiles) I know.

Will/Dax/Ronnie/Rose: WHAT?!

Will: You mean you knew?! THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME?! We were chocking and dying and suffering because of you hideous fucking stench, AND YOU KNEW?!!

Mack: Let me explain. You see, my dad and I made this bet . . .

(Mack has a flashback)

(Flashback)

Mack: Hey, dad, I bet you I can go a whole week without bathing!

Mr. Hartford: You're on! (Mack and Andrew shake hands) You know, there's no way you're gonna win. You'll have your friends pressuring you to bathe like nothing else!

Mack: That's the point. I want to see who's the most honest; who will make the best friend.

Mr. Hartford: Whatever, Mackie. It's your money and their funeral.

(Flashback ends)

Mack: I'm so glad it was you that told me, Rose. And since you were the most honest, now I have something to tell you. I love you.

Rose: (Smiles adoringly)

Ronnie: Aww.

Will: All right, Mack! Way to go!

Mack: And if there's ever anything I can do for you . . . (He leans in close and whispers in her ear) . . . just say the word.

(Rose is loving this, until she catches another whiff of him. Suddenly, her throat has a flashback of everything she's eaten in the past week.)

Rose: (Takes a step back) Yeah, how about you take a bath before you go and try to kiss me, pretty boy?

(Suddenly, Mr. Hartford and Spencer appear.)

Mr. Hartford: But if you do, you'll owe me twenty bucks.

Mack: Hmm, let's see . . . keep twenty bucks, or kiss a pretty girl . . . Here you go, dad. (Hands him a twenty and dashes upstairs, toward the bathroom.)

Mr. Hartford: Woo-hoo! I won! Twenty bucks! Wait a sec, I'm rich. I don't need this chump change. Here ya go, Spence. Twenty bucks.

Ronnie: Wow, that's one hell of a tip.

Mr. Hartford: Tip? That's two months' salary right there. (He notices a stray piece of paper on the ground.) Hey, what's this? (He reads it over) The last line of this haiku only has four syllables. How about, 'Because you smell bad'?

Will: Dammit! Why didn't I think of that?

Dax: Well, duh! Because you're a dumbass!

(Finally, everyone, completely fed up with Dax, closes in on him, ready to solve the problem at its source)

Dax: Everything alright, guys? Uh, why is everyone staring at me? And . . . looking deranged? And hungry? Guys? GUYS?! HELP!

(But by then, it's too late.)

The End.

A/N: Sorry this one took so long, everyone. I had a bit of an engagement. Anyway, there it is! What did you think? TELL ME HOW IT WAS OR I'LL CHOKE MY FOOT OFF!

New Warrior of Fire's foot: Help! She means it!