For someone who complained about the cost of a hotel in New York City, Dr. Venture was quite willing to open his purse and for a couple mid-range tickets to a couple Broadway musicals. While the revival of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" was kind of fun - it reminded Gary of Henchman orientation - if it had been up to him once they had heisted the hairs of Jonas Venture, Sr. they would have gone direct to the X-1 and put several states between them and any potential pursuit. Dr. Venture wanted to see a matinee. Then over a tediously long dinner the super-scientist told of his hopes of writing a Broadway musical based on his life. Gary decided not to tell him that he was thinking of writing a book, too. He was thinking of titling it "Every Thing I Needed to Know I Learned from Henching."

Did they go to the plane, then? No, it was off to see "Little Shop of Horrors." "It wasn't really a seed from outer space," Dr. Venture said. "Just one of my dad's experiments that got loose."

"What about that walking tree? Is that one of your dad's experiments?"

Dr. Venture denied that it was but, oddly, added, "If you ever do see it, burn it on sight. Don't even try to talk to it!" When Gary asked why, Venture started babbling about the musicals he liked best. Gary wondered what the old man was hiding, but not enough to press him on it.

And of course after the show Dr. Venture had to go backstage, not that security let him, but he spent a hour trying. Only then did he finally agree to catch a cab out to the airport. It was dawn by the time Gary ran the X-1 into the hanger. He had been up for 24 hours straight by this time and starting to see double-vision. He wasn't sure but it looked like someone had locked Texas in the flight room. That couldn't be right. Dr. Venture has slept on the flight back. He was whistling tunes from the shows between quoting clever passages. Gary noticed that the front door had been broken down but the boys had called the night before to mention the Monarch's visit. He dumped Venture's bags in his room and headed back down. He was going out to his room in the guard shack but got only as far as the couch in the living room. He kicked off his boots and threw himself down. It wasn't clear whether he was asleep or just paralyzed from fatigue.

He awoke briefly a couple hours later when Hank and Dean wandered down for breakfast. He opened his eyes long enough to identify who was walking through the living room and closed them again. There was something different about Dean, he thought, but couldn't place a finger on what was different. Maybe it was because he was wearing his swimming suit at daybreak. Whatever. The boys were weird. Gary slept on.

A bit after one Gary woke up again as Dr. Venture dropped onto the couch at the other end, slapping Gary's feet out of the way. He turned on the TV and changed channels to a soap opera. Though Gary could have slept for several hours more he knew he wasn't going to get any more sleep here.

"Laying down on the job, eh?" Dr. Venture quipped as Gary felt around for his boots.

"Hows the DNA sequencing going Got an answer to your clone question yet?" Gary grumbled.

"Oh, it's fine. It'll take a couple more days before we'll have any results but I got the hair into the sequencer. How 'bout getting me a cup of coffee."

Gary stood up and stretched. That was accompanied by an amazing number of pops and cracks. "Coffee sounds good," he said, picked up his overnight bags and marched out of the residence.

At his guard shack Gary throw a double helping of coffee into the maker, turned it on and stripped off his clothes. He took a quick shower before dressing in blue jeans and a black T-shirt. He left like he had earned a day off so he wasn't dressing in a Venture Enterprises jumpsuit. Since his extendo-knives looked a little garish when not covered by long sleeves, he left them off, strapping a knife to one ankle and a tiny .22 automatic to the other. He poured the coffee into a large thermos and headed for the door when he saw the box of flash cards laying in the table where he had left them an eternity before. though it was only like 48 hours on the clock. He picked them up and headed to the hanger. He regretted not having had more time for Texas and planned to make up for it today.

The hanger looked at same as when he left it - oh, wait, just that morning. Dean was out, though, sitting on a lawn chair just inside the hanger door. Hank, surprisingly, was not there. It was rare to find the boys separate. He walked over to a table, set the thermos down and found his coffee mug among the rubble on the table. He wiped it out with a napkin before pouring coffee into it. He always figured that if the coffee was strong enough it would sterilize whatever was in the mug.

He took a sip and savored the burn as it descended into and knotted up his stomach. Yeah. That was the stuff, he thought. Another sip and he turned back towards Dean. Something was not right about the boy. Carrying the mug with him he walked back towards the boy. Lawn chair - check. Swimming suit - check? puddle under the chair - check. Black cloud over Dean's head. That was it. "So I wasn't hallucinating this morning," Gary muttered and turned back towards the table. "You really do have a black cloud hanging over you."

"Triana cursed me," Dean said mournfully.

"Ah," the henchman said, as if this was totally normal. He turned away again, took a step and stopped, looked at Dean again. "Do you ever get hit by those little bolts of lightning?" he wondered.

"Constantly. It's like sticking your finger into a light socket."

"You do that often?"

"Not anymore."

"Good, it's not healthy." Gary turned again, started to step away and stopped. I'm going to regret this he thought. Out loud he asked, "Why did Triana curse you?"

"I told her I was sorry that had looked up her skirt."

"Dude, that's the last thing you tell a girl!"

"It was an accident. I was climbing up her leg and had to look up and..."

"Why were you climbing..." Gary interrupted. "Never mind. At this rate you'll just end up tell the whole story piece by piece backwards. Forget that. Why is Texas locked in the office?"

Dean turned around to look at the small cubical against the side of the hanger. "He tried to run away yesterday. We followed him. Then he fell in a hole. Then we fell in trying to get him out. Then Triana helped to pull us out of the pit and that was when I accidentally looked up and saw her panties. But not really. And then she cursed me and I had to sleep in the bathtub. Do you think you could talk to Triana and get her to take the curse off me. I really don't want to sleep in the bathtub again."

"See, I ask the right question and I get the story in the proper order," Gary said. "Did Texas say why he was running off?"

"Said he was going home."

Gary thought about that for a moment. "Which way was he going?" he asked.

Dean pointed off towards the hills past the Compound. Gary frowned at that. Dean was pointing in the direction of the last known location of the Monarch's Cocoon. Could Texas have really been making a bee-line to the Cocoon. How did he know where it was. And why go there?

"Gary, please talk to Triana. Get her to call off this curse."

"I don't know, it looks kind of cute on you." Dean only groaned "Have you tried to apologize to her?" Gary asked.

"She wouldn't pick up her phone."

"Well, you did embarrass her by telling her you look up her skirt. All things considered, a personal black cloud hanging over you head isn't the worst thing should could have done. She could have turned you into a frog."

"I don't want to be a frog again."

"Again? - Never mind. Look. if it's still raining on your parade at supper-time I'll have a talk with her," Gary promised. He finally went back to the table to refill his cup. Next to the was a small doll's parasol. He didn't remember seeing it there before. He picked it up and looked it over, finally popping it open. It was about twelve inches across, covered in rows of lace. He closed and called out to Dean. "I think someone is feeling a little sorry." He tossed the tiny umbrella to the Venture Brother.

Picking up the flash cards Gary unlocked the office box and let himself in.

The patchwork man had been trying to force his way through a solid wall on the north-west side of the room. He had dented the metal paneling some but had made no real progress escaping nor had he given up trying.

"Texas!" Gary called out, "Long time, no see! How are you doing."

"Twey-un" the creature replied. He stopped slamming against the wall. He came over and clasped the burly man in a clumsy hug. "Let's go home cocoon."

"This is your home now, Texas. I don't think they'd recognize you at the Cocoon." This was certainly true. Texas - Venturestein - had a head of kinky African hair as well as a large part of black skin running down one side of his face. One arm was longer than the other. He didn't have two left feet but only because Dr. Venture had lucked into finding a viable right foot to replace Texas' damaged one. Texas' nose and chin had been repaired - badly - but not replaced. Gary could see what remained of Texas in the creature's face, only because he had known him so long. The other henchmen, weren't likely to.

"Cocoon Texas home."

"No, here is home." Gary insisted. He pointed to a desk in the room. "Sit down. let's do some cards."

"Go fish?"

"No. Shapes. Want to see how the o' memory holding out." Gary said.

"Go fish more fun."

Gary shrugged. Probably true. He opened the box of flash card and dumped them into his hand. Straightening them out he started shuffling them.

"Hank and Dean said you ran away yesterday. What was all that about?"

"They don't like me."

"Of course they do," Gary insisted.

"Venturestein know better. Can see they hate in eyes. Purple girl, she hate most."

"Triana?" Gary asked skeptically. She had explained about how she could hear the constant screams of the different souls that were bound up in his old comrade. He didn't think she hated him exactly. He didn't want to think she could hate his old friend. so he changed the subject.

"So what happened with General Manhower? I thought he was going to be your new home."

Texas looked confused for a moment, scratched the afro on one side of his head. "Manhower bad man. Always shouting Venturestein. Call Venturestein stupid and ugly. Always telling Venturestein to do stupid stuff like charge machine gun fire. Venturestein not stupid."

Gary held up one of the cards.

"Dog." Texas told him. Gary looked at the label on the back of the card. It said 'dog.'

"Still," Gary suggested gently, "isn't it the duty of a henchman to obey the orders of his Arch?" Arch was short-hand for Archvillain. In the game between OSI and the Guild of Calamitous Intent Archvillains attacked their super-scientist Nemesis. Within the Guild the henchman career was a well defined and honorable one. It was understood that Arches expected Henchmen to be absolutely loyal; it was also understood that henchmen weren't expected to be fools. Texas should have stayed with General Manhower, his new Arch, but if Manhower was telling to run into machine-gun fire, there was no expectation of loyalty from a henchman.

"Venturestein stay. For while."

"But you left eventually." Gary held up another card. "Horse" Texas said. That was what the label on the back said as well.

"Who left first? Where did he go?"

"One day Ernie not there. Manahower very mad. Don't know where he went. Home maybe. we all wanted to go home."

"He ever say where home was?" They went through moon, cow, window, before the resurrected man answered.

"Ernie never say. Bill went next, said he was going 'bama."

"Was Bill from the Cocoon?"

"Not Cocoon. Maybe Phantom Limb. Maybe White Robe."

A pyramid, a circle, a fireplace went by as Gary thought about that.

"Did all of you talk about the same, like you? Or did some of them have more vocabulary?" Texas looked blank. "You know, used big words," Gary added,

Venturestein shrugged.

"But you all wanted to go home?" the man-thing nodded. "Why?"

"No one felt this where belong. No feel welcome there. And Manhow no like us."

"So one by one you all left?" Gary asked. Venturestein nodded. "And you all wanted to go home, but you all had different homes to go to?"

Venturestein reached out and took the next card off the pile in front of Gary. He looked at the front of it intently then asked "Got any zebras?" and laughed in a half-hearts sort of way. Gary shook his head.

"Go fish," the zombie said, laying down the card he was holding. It pictured a zebra.

"Did you ever hear from any of your fellow - ah - Venturesteins, after they left.

"Army folk brought back some."

"How many?"

Venturestein looked at his fingers as he counted off one, two three, "a lot". Gary wasn't sure how to interpret that. Was 'a lot' that same as four? Or did it just mean that after three Texas had given up counting.

"What happened to them?" Gary asked.

"They ran away again."

"So in the end no one stayed?"

Venturestein shrugged again. "Don't know everybody. Left before then."

"Why did you come here?"

"Couldn't find Cocoon. Remembered this place. Felt like almost home."

"You were going to the Cocoon yesterday?"

"Home."

"How did you know where to find the Cocoon?"

Venturestein just shrugged. "Can hear - in head - somethings."

Gary grunted. That didn't explain anything and yet was probably going to be all the explanation he was ever going to get out if the patchwork man. "Look. Texas, it's important that you get this. The Cocoon is no longer your home. Everyone there thinks your dead. If you show up they will just panic and try to kill you. This is your home now. We'll take good care of you here. Don't go wandering off to the Cocoon. OK? It's not your home anymore." Gary looked to see if the zombie understood him. His face just did not have the expressiveness of a normal face. The nerves to the facial muscles had never been connected properly. Well, he'd just have to assume that Texas did understand.

He picked up the next card and held it up. The label on the back said "tree," Gary wasn't expecting Texas to say "friend."

Gary turned the card around and looked at it. There was a stylized deciduous tree shown on the front, with a brown trunk and a greenish ball of leaves at top. He turned it back to face Texas, "tree?" he asked.

"Friend!" Texas corrected.

Gary thought about it some more, then got up and lead Venturestein out of the room across the hanger and out to the overhead door. Venturestein stared at Dean and his little black thundercloud as they passed. Outside the hanger Gary pointed to a lone tree growing on the land across from the Venture Compound. It was a pine, tall, straight and triangular. Gary pointed to it. "Friend?" he asked.

"That tree." Texas declared.

Gary looked around for a tree with a rounded crown. The best he could do was an ornamental shrub near the main entrance to the Administration building. "Friend?" Gary asked.

"Tree" Texas told him.

Gary led him back to the office. He picked up the card of the tree. "Friend?" he asked.

"Picture," Texas told him.

"Not friend?"

"Look like friend, but not him."

Gary looked at the picture again. "What makes him a friend?" he asked.

"Friend find me. Showed where could get out of weather, hide during day. Bring food. Tell funny stories."

"He looked like a tree but he could walk?"

"No legs."

"But he could move?" Texas nodded.

"He talked to you?"

"Funny man. Tell lots of jokes. Like: 'knock knock.'"

"Who's there?" Gary prompted.

Texas looked confused for a moment, then repeated, "knock knock."

Gary guessed that Texas couldn't remember the rest of the joke.

"Was your friend all green, or was he like this picture, with a brown trunk?"

"All green."

"How tall?"

"taller than you."

"Twice as tall?"

Texas shook his head.

"Where can I find him."

"Him no like being found." Texas told him.

"But I just want to thank your friend for taking such good care of you."

Texas thought about that for a minute. He shook his head. "Friend secret."

Gary asked some more but Texas remained adamant. He would not lead Gary to his friend or tell him how to find the walking, and apparently talking, tree. After a while Gary gave up asking questions and just held up the flashcards. Texas could name all the pictures which spoke well of his memory but had trouble forming complete sentences. And he never used "I" or "me" when speaking about himself.

After a while Gary called it quits for the day. He was going to leave Texas free to roam but noticed that as soon as he put the cards away and started cleaning up the place, Texas had walked over to the north-west corner of the room and tried to force his way through the wall. With a sigh, Gary turned the lock as he left the room.