Season: Idunfugginknow
Episode 2: Square
…
[Scene opens on Cloud in the kitchen, having set up a number of ingredients, measuring devices and a large bowl with a smaller bowl next to it. Into the small bowl Cloud combines flour, sugar and baking powder. In the larger bowl Cloud lightly beats a few egg yolks, adds in some milk, butter and vanilla and then stirs well. After stirring it to a fine mix, he combines the dry ingredients with the wet and quickly cleans out the bowl the dry ingredients were in so he can beat a few egg whites in it. When the egg whites form soft peaks, Cloud folds them into his batter and again mixes well. Leaving his mixture to sit, Cloud goes to the kitchen's lower cabinet only to shockingly find nothing there. His eyes twitch for a moment before he shouts]
Cloud: GOD DAMNIT! LINK!
[Camera pans to Link, still naked on the couch and smoking a joint]
Link: WHAT? I'm right here! There's no need to yell?
Cloud: Where is my Belgian waffle iron?
Link: Your what?
Cloud: My Belgian waffle iron! That thing I've been using to make big, delicious, light as air waffles every Tuesday since we moved in here!
Link: Oh. Right… I think I let Spikeman borrow it.
Cloud: For what?!
Link: I dun fuggin' know… What got stuck up your ass? Just pour the batter in that one weird frying pan and make some square pancakes.
Cloud: Listen here jackass, I'm not going to make square pancakes. This is about more than the shape of my morning pastry. The US doesn't know shit about Belgium, we've literally got two things to our name, and that's our waffles and our chocolate. This is how I embrace my ancestry in a country that clearly doesn't appreciate it!
Link: I literally did a Wikipedia search in the time you were rambling. Guess what shithead? Belgian waffles are an American concept.
Cloud: … Well… Sometimes you gotta accept cultural appropriation! We also invented French Fries but the damn Frenchies stole those from us!
Link: Aren't you just as French as you are Belgian-
Cloud: Forget this crap. I'm going to Spikeman's to get my waffle maker back!
[Cloud departs. Shortly after he is out the door, Link turns to make sure he's gone and slips on a pair of boxers]
Link: Finally. I like to piss him off but the fibers are really starting to feel raw.
[Cloud storms over to Blade and Spikeman's apartment, banging on the door with increased frustration]
Spikeman: Oh, hey there Cloud! How's it going?
Cloud: Do you have my waffle maker?
Spikeman: Your waffle- OH! Yeah, that's right. C'mon in. How you feeling today pal?
Cloud: Hungry.
Spikeman: Yeah, fair enough. So let's see…
[Spikeman walks to his lower set of cabinets and opens them, but finds nothing but pots and pans.]
Spikeman: Shit… I think it's in one of the upper cabinets then. Let me get a chair-
[Cloud walks to the upper cabinets and opens them himself, searching through and pushing stuff around as needed]
Spikeman: Hey careful up there! Those are very carefully organized-
[Spikeman is comically hit on the head with a can of Campbell's soup that Cloud haphazardly tosses out]
Cloud: It's not here.
Spikeman: Owww… I mean… I dunno man… Let's check the waffle party footage.
Cloud: (Unamused) Waffle party footage?
[Cut to Cloud and Spikeman watching video footage of Spikeman and Blade holding a party a few nights previous, eating various waffle-related foods and drinking tons of booze, the room full of characters I don't want to name here because it'll be funnier when they say stupid shit]
Blade: (Chuckling like an idiot) Okay… Okay guys… We made waffles… We made waffle falafel… Shit, waffle falafel is fun to say…
Mario: We made a'waffle pizza!
Blade: Yeah, waffle pizza.
Gordon Freeman: (Says nothing, but holds up a sign reading "Waffle Fries!")
Doug Funnie: (Clearly the most smashed of them all) And we made waffle grilled cheese! They were delicious. So much so that it almost fills the void in my heart that bitch Patti Mayonnaise left behind!
Blade: Yeah, those grilled cheese were hella-
Doug: No! I mean hang- (hic) Hang on. I wasn't done yet. (Doug pushes Blade away from the camera and begins violently pointing at it.) Patti, I know you're out there somewhere! I know- (hic) I know you're watching this! I want you to know I always hated you! And I still hate how fucking happy you are!
Spikeman: (Clearly getting uncomfortable) Funnie, man, calm down there. That was a long time ago-
Doug: YOU BROKE MY HEART! I don't care if you thought it was normal, people walked all over my ass back in school, and now I know you were just being sympathetic because you felt sorry for me. Poor ol' Doug Funnie, that pink spinned freak!
Blade: Doug, man, get ahold of yourself. You don't wanna go down this road again-
Doug: But I always secretly knew you were (belch) a vixen! That's why you split up with me and started fucking somebody else! These morons at home all think Korra was Nickelodeon's first lesbian-
Mario: Um… Maybe we cut'a the footage now-
[The video abruptly ends as Cloud and Spikeman continue to look on at the screen]
Cloud: All I got out of that was that Doug isn't any more funny now than he was back in 1999.
Spikeman: Oooh, zing. But here, watch the footage again.
[Spikeman slowly backs up the video as, in amongst Doug's rambling, they can clearly see Gordon Freeman grabbing the waffle iron and slipping out the door with it]
Cloud: Son of a bitch! Where does that bastard live?
Spikeman: Um… Apartment on the intersection of second street and Nomore I think? Room number 2-9?
Cloud: Thanks. He's mine.
[Cloud then dashes out from the apartment and makes for Gordon's apartment, getting there in a smash cut and banging on the door. Gordon Freeman answers rather quickly and gives Cloud a blank stare]
Cloud: I'm here for my waffle iron.
Gordon Freeman: …
Cloud: I asked you a simple question, where the hell is my waffle maker?
Gordon Freeman: …
[Cloud raises his fist, but is smacked upside the face with a crowbar for his trouble. He is instantly shouting in pain and clenching at the wound as blood starts to spill from it]
Cloud: You piece of shit!
[Cloud tackles Gordon Freeman and the two briefly wrestle on the ground, Cloud delivering a few punches to his face before the phone starts to ring and they both stop, staring up at it as it goes to voice mail]
Pawn shop owner: Hey there Gordon, hope you get this soon. Just wanted to say thanks again for selling me that waffle iron. It's a nice waffle iron. That waffle iron you sold me. Me, the owner of the pawn shop off sixth and grand. That pawn shop. With the waffle iron? Thanks for selling it to me. Hope I wasn't interrupting anything or babbling useful exposition. Me, the owner of the pawn shop with the waffle iron.
[Cloud rushes out the door and in another quick cut is at the pawn shop]
Cloud: The hell do you mean it's not here?! You've had it for like, a day!
Pawn shop owner: Yeah but I needed it for… Something… Look blondie, it's a little hard to explain-
Cloud: Well I have to explain to my stomach why it's after noon and we still haven't had any God damn waffles!
Pawn shop owner: Look bud, it's just not here anymore, okay? And you really don't wanna mess with the guy who took it… I can't really give you any specifics, it's too weird and I might be punished for speaking out of turn… But you really don't want to mess with these guys… I could offer you a great sale on a square pancake maker-
[Cloud grabs him by the shirt and pulls him in close, snarling in an embittered way]
Pawn shop owner: Fine fine fine… [He pulls a notecard out of under the pricing desk and jots down a few notes.] You want this location, and this time. This right here is the password phrase… It's your funeral bud.
[At a quarter to 2 AM, Cloud arrives at an inconspicuous looking warehouse, storming in in frustration only to find it totally empty. He considers shouting again, but then refers to the notecard and takes a deep breath]
Cloud: … Hello? I'm looking for… Um… I'm looking for (sighs and reads off notecard) 'The large box. Who happens to be a homosexual. And a king. Whose name happens to be… (Cloud sighs, barely able to say the last word) Gaylord.
Effeminate Voice in the back of the Warehouse: ARE YOU PERHAPS REFERRING TO-
All of the boxes singing simultaneously: GAYLORD, THE GAY LORD GAYLORD?
[And with that all of the boxes begin to gleefully sing a ridiculous song]
Gaylord! (Gaylord Gaylord!)
The Gay Lord Gaylord (Gaylord Gay Lord Gaylord!)
King of the Boxes, Master without fear!
We all love him so, we don't care that he's queer!
Finest of our cardboard kind
No greater king ever will you find
Than Gaylord (Gaylord Gaylord!)
The Gay Lord Gaylord (Gaylord Gay Lord Gaylord!)
[The boxes proceed to clear the way, allowing several of the boxes to carry Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord in on a palanquin. And he is fucking fabulous.]
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: Wel-come then to my domain!
Your search, my child, is not in vain!
For I am here, gayest of lords of Gaylords
Gaylord!
And I have come to-
(Without further thought, Cloud grabs ahold of Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord and begins to violently shake him)
Cloud: Where the hell is my waffle iron?!
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: Ack! M-My child, you are crushing your lord's neck-
Cloud: WHERE IS IT?!
Straight Gaylord 1: He is crushing our king's neck!
Straight Gaylord 2: Please sir! Unhand our king!
Box Packed with Fudge: Please! Someone get him off! He's attacking my husband!
[The boxes manage to rather quickly overpower Cloud, tying him down and getting a blindfold around his eyes]
[Some time later, Cloud is presented to the warehouse full of boxes again, the blindfold is violently ripped off his face. Cloud stands in the middle of some kind of arena]
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: For your horrible actions against the king of boxes, we have decreed you must do battle with our finest warrior!
Cloud: I just want my fucking waffle iron back-
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: In our nationally recognized contest of strength-
Cloud: Damn it, everyone knows what this joke is going to be! You don't have to drag it out! Just quit while your ahead-
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: BOXING!
Cloud: God fucking damn it…
[There is a loud stomping sound behind him, Cloud then faces the greatest of all of the box's warriors]
Him: I'm gonna teach you a widdle wesson about attacking somebody's king! You gonna cwy an wish you ever crossed me!
Cloud: Okay, really? If the last joke wasn't obvious enough, you're really dragging this shit out?
Him: I will personowy pound you intwo next weekend! I will take your manhwood! I wanna wip out youwe heart and show it to you!
Cloud: No. I'm not participating in this anymore. You have sunken to lowest common denominator narrator. This isn't funny. Nothing about this is funny!
Him: I am the gweatest in the world! I am Mike, the box of Tyson chicken tenders-
[Cloud, having had enough of this bullshit, runs right at Mike, the box of Tyson chicken tenders and uses his ridiculously pointy hair to shred open his… I dunno, stomach? Center? He's a fucking box. With his point he tears and gouges out his bags of frozen Tyson chicken tenders. The court of boxes stare in disbelief as he stands from the ridiculously silly dismemberment and looks Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord dead in the eyes]
Cloud: No more fucking jokes. No more fucking puns. I want my waffle iron back!
Gaylord the Gay Lord Gaylord: … Guards! Guards find this ridiculous man's waffle iron!
Royal Assistant: My lord, we just ran inventory, we just found that we've only had one waffle iron in in the last week.
Cloud: Is it a 1-1/2 inch thick oster?
Royal Assistant: Some Rich guy ordered it just the other day, Razorhead. It was probably just delivered.
Cloud: Who was he?
Royal Assistant: I told you, some Rich guy!
Cloud: WHO?!
[Cut to Cloud standing outside a gate in the pouring rain in Richville, just outside Richie Rich's mansion]
Cloud: Fucking… Whatever.
[Cloud pushes the buzzer and it quickly greeted by the voice of an old, warn out Richie Rich. I mean, he was like, what, six? Seven? Nine tops back in 1953. That's gotta put him in his seventies. He's a gravely old fucker over the intercom too]
Rich: Who is there?
Cloud: Look, my name is Cloud Strife-
Rich: Are you here for the orphanage?
Cloud: No.
Rich: Good! Because I told em' they've gotten all they're gonna get outta me. When I was a boy I wore the same underwear up to a week at a time and I turned out fine! … Wait, what the hell did you want?
Cloud: I'm here for my waffle iron.
Rich: (Snide) Oh your waffle iron, huh?
Cloud: Yes, my waffle iron!
Rich: Well, I for one can't speak to what happened to your waffle iron Mr. Strife, but I can assure you this waffle iron in here belongs to me!
Cloud: (Enraged) No it doesn't! It's my waffle iron! It was lent to a friend, who it was stolen from, and then pawned off to and whatever that shit was with the boxes-
Rich: You listen here you little shit, this waffle iron is mine, you hear me? Maybe you lost yours in some way, but that's none of my business. I paid for this waffle iron myself. Do you think I'd have amassed the fortune I have here if I bought a new waffle iron for every Tom, Dick and Nancy who came to my door?
Cloud: You'd probably get to write that off your taxes and then you'd have more money!
Rich: I tire of this conversation. I just ran myself bath. Good night sir.
Cloud: But-
Rich: GOOD NIGHT SIR!
[The intercom goes dead as Cloud states at the mansion. It doesn't fucking matter anymore. He has come too far. Cloud tears open the gate. Instantly sirens begin to go off, but Cloud thinks nothing of them as he rushes towards the mansion and kicks in the door]
Cloud: RICH?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? AND WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WAFFLE IRON?!
[Through the house Cloud runs until he faintly hears the dripping of water from some room above him. Sure his journey is finally at its end, Cloud rushes up the stairs and kicks in the door to the bathroom. In the tub the decrepit Richie Rich sits, holding the waffle iron, plugged into the wall, inches above the water. Instantly Cloud freezes and stares]
Rich: Who… Who are you? Are… Are you the man from the gate?
Cloud: … No. I'm an angel. Sent to save your life. Gimmie that waffle iron.
Rich: (Holds it closer to himself, is suspicious) An angel?
Cloud: Yes. An angel. Sent by… Shit who is the god of rich people- Sent by Jehovah. The lord Jehovah. The… The defeater of the evil lord Xenu. Yeah. Gonna go with that one.
Rich: What do you want with me?
Cloud: I was sent to stop you from killing yourself. Why don't you just slowly hand me the waffle iron and then-
Rich: (Gives a scornful laugh) Stop me from killing myself? So now God wants to intervene. Now, only when I'm done asking him any questions, does God have anything to say!
Cloud: God says you should put down that waffle maker and-
Rich: So tell me then, angel almighty: Where were you when my first wife was struck with pneumonia? Where were you when my daughter played too close to the street that one day?
Cloud: Um… Making waffles. Let me do that for you-
Rich: How about when my parents died in that plane crash, huh?! Or when Canterbury gave his life to save me from a rockslide? How about when my second wife died of typhoid, fucking typhoid! I didn't even know that existed anymore!
Cloud: I know life seems hard right now, but I promise, if you'll just hand me that waffle iron-
Rich: (To the point of sobbing now) You know, I thought you were showing me the truth last time! I thought that meeting her was finally going to put things right… I thought you brought Julia into my life for a reason… But NO! She was a mooch! A fucking gold digger! She used me for all I was worth and then ran off with that secret bitch of a lover of hers Patty Mayonnaise!
Cloud: … Holy shit. I can't believe that not-joke actually came back.
Rich: I stopped praying because God had no answers for me! I'm sick of waiting for God to take control! This is my life, and it is my right to end it!
Cloud: Listen… Richie-
Rich: DON'T CALL ME THAT!
Cloud: Okay… Listen… Dick… I know times can be hard… Sometimes every one of us is like, 'Why does this shit keep happening? Why am I still dealing with this? I try and be a good guy, I don't ask for much, why do I have to endure this?' And you know what I like to do when I feel like that…? I like to make a big batch of deep, crispy, rich waffles.
[They face each other silently before Rich sobs again]
Rich: Well then mister angel… I shall make the richest batch of waffles this world has ever seen!
[Rich drops the iron into the water. And yes, frankly I've seen mixed things on if this would actually be effective or not. But then I decided, 'Fuck it, I had singing boxes in this story! If I am gonna do that, I can have Richie Rich kill himself with a waffle maker!]
[Erm, anyway, Cloud falls to his knees and screams. About this time the police arrive, having heard the siren and Cloud tries to rush for his ruined waffle iron, but the police pull him off and drag him away to the station.]
[Some obstinent amount of time later, Blade is parked right outside the Richville county jail when Cloud is escorted out and climbs into the front seat]
Cloud: … Thanks for helping me make bale.
Blade: Yeah. I'm sorry all that happened to you man. That's… That's some shit right there.
Cloud: All the evidence points to suicide… I'll probably be acquitted of everything. Just a quick slap on the wrist for trespassing…
Blade: So I take it the iron-
Cloud: Even if they could make it work again, they're keeping it as evidence… God. Fucking. Damn it.
[The two friends sit silently for a few seconds before Blade puts a hand on his shoulder]
Blade: Hey… You wanna go get some square pancakes?
Cloud: … Y… Yeah… I think I do.
The End.