"The partially, nearly Naked Gun 3 : 'They Saved Crumpf's Brain'..."

Summary: Frank Drebbin is out of retirement and on the case when he learns the fanatical former president and loser candidate Fred Crumpf may not be quite as dead as he left him and he and/or his crazies including his family threaten the newly elected President Woodrowmina Wilson.

Of course, Nordberg is no longer on the squad because of, well, we never talk about that...

Part XXXIII…

"Frank…Frrannk…"

Oh, no…Drebbin woke suddenly in his seat, staring round…

Oh, phew…Not Jane's ghost again, just Marjorie…

In lovely nightgown, hair loose, climbing on top of me…He jumped in seat, waking suddenly.

"Frank?…Frank?!" He woke in his seat for real to see Marjorie looking concerned.

"All right there, partner?" she asked. "You seemed a little out of it…"

"Cried out like my youngest…" Ed added, helpfully, from his seat.

"Uh, sure…Sure." Frank nodded. "I'm just fine."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know we land in one hour and we'll motorcade to my office." Marjorie noted, warm smile.

"Good…Can't wait to start tracking that Nazi down." Frank nodded again.

"We have some info from LA as well…" Marjorie told him. "Seems that Dr. Goebbels-Banner has managed to escape with a group of rather interesting visitors to America, on the private jet of none other than Aaron Smirk. Camera surveillance picked him up just as he boarded. Naturally, Smirk's jet deviated from the filed flight plan but the word on Goebbels-Banner reached us too late. The last radar contact puts the jet somewhere past Hawaii."

"The Aaron Smirk?" Hocken called. "I used to like him. Before he started calling for disabled people to be gassed or shot and became a big advisor on Crumpf's team."

"The very one…" Marjorie nodded.

"What visitors?" Frank asked.

"Quite a rogue's gallery…Even from the limited surveillance footage we've managed to obtain." Marjorie noted, handing her phone over. "Ed? Can you see from the link I sent your phone?"

"Just fine, ma'am." He called, eyeing phone. "Lil' Kim of North Korea? Antonio Salamanica of the cartels?"

"Quite the rogues gallery…" Frank eyed Marjorie's phone as she held it. "But I thought we had laws about letting this scum into America?"

"Laws are for the honest people, Frank. As they said on 'Rocky and Bullwinkle', years ago." Ed nodded sagely. "Wow, Kim Cattrall?" he eyed his phone.

"What?" Marjorie eyed her phone.

"Oh, sorry…Wrong video there. Oh, aren't those the guys who made 'Team America:World Police'? I loved that thing. Even if they were kinda mean to Matt Damon." Ed noted.

"Probably they're doing propaganda for Smirk and maybe Crumpf's group." Marjorie noted.

"Considering what they did to lil' Kim's dad bigger Kim in their movie, I'd consider going on another plane." Frank noted.

(Meanwhile, floating off the shore of…The Lair…A raftful of the said filmmakers/writers of "Team America: World Police" floating off shore…The group of right-wing filmmakers looking about, a few a bit nervous. "Yeah, man the Old Team back together, man! Ready to top Leni! But where's the chicks, dude?" one asks another. "I was told there'd be chicks, man." "I was told Phil Hartman was here to…You know…" Looking down. "He's dead, dude. Like for years." The other notes. "Really? I guess I have been outta touch." "So…You're gay? I kinda thought so back then with you always wanting to have us have Phil tell the lead puppet guy to…"

"Hey!" their director calls to the group of men in black…Black-sunglassed Korean men in black…On shore. "What's up here, dudes?! We're like, supposed to do another 'Triumph of the Will, Crumpf's Will' sorta thing? Why are we out here on a raft?"

"Dude, the guy said we did a cool job on the first storyboard… 'Triumph II' comes after we party!" another writer told him. Raising beer. "But where are the chicks, man?!" the first to speak calls to the head agent on shore.

"Leader Kim Jr says …Hello! Goodbye! And thanks for the storyboard!" the tough-looking Korean agent with several around him eyes raft, pressing detonation button on phone. Explosion!

Eyes "The Naked Gun 3 : 'They Saved Crumpf's Brain'" storyboard in his hand.

Excellent, nods to his men. Our Old Leader is avenged and we have the plot in hand.)

Office of Presidential Security…

Director's Office…

"Have a seat, boys and girls…" Marjorie indicated chairs about her desk. Frank, Ed, Jeremy, carefully positioning his sling, and other agents taking seats.

"First, very glad to see both planes made it safely here." She noted. "You know about the incident on my plane. Our ersatz Terry has been taken for interrogation but it's unlikely we'll get much from her." Pausing… "Yes, Mr. Sinclair…" to a raised hand by one agent.

"Is there any word on the Smirk plane?" the young man, a tall, dark-haired Jon Hammishly handsome fellow, asked.

Oh, geesh…He caught sight of Hocken, having not been seated in the VIP area of the plane.

Is that Edna's husband? Slinking back in his seat…

"Just what we knew before, it veered from flight plan and was lost to air traffic somewhere south of Hawaii…" Marjorie noted, avoiding a frown at the classic example of the ambitious jerk type she'd mentioned to Frank. After all, Sinclair's a fine agent if a horn dog who's had to be sent to periodic sexual harassment seminars. "We can be pretty sure the Crumpf group and their Nazi allies have a base somewhere around there, on some likely uncharted island."

"And Terry…Whoever she, or he, is…Might know." Jeremy pointed out. "Sorry, Director." Apologetically.

"She or he may, Jeremy." Marjorie nodded. "And we'll try to get it out of her...Him. But even more likely, Dr. Morene knows."

"Yes? Sally?" she addressed a young blond woman who'd raised hand.

"What about our screening of the staff at the White House and among Lorene's staff?" the woman asked.

"So far all check out…Both as to no signs of surgery or any questions about their records but we are monitoring the situation and the President is safe."

"Yes, Frank?" Marjorie acknowledging his hand up. "Oh…For those of you who haven't met them, these are our colleagues from the LAPD Police Squad unit, Lieutenant Frank Drebbin, and Captain Ed Hocken."

"Thanks, Director…Hello, all." Frank nodded to the group. "I was just wondering if anything turned up at this Dr. Lorene's office, files, whatever…And where is the men's room?"

"Nothing as yet but we'll be headed there shortly to see for ourselves. Down the hall, to the right."

"Thanks. Be right back." He rose.

"Madam Director..?" Another agent had raised hand. "About this Nazi brain surgery…? It's really true that Terry…" as Frank went out the door.

I mean she and I…The agent thought. Well…Avoiding Jeremy's stare…

Frank humming as he went down the hall…Not noticing the icy stare of the lady janitor he'd passed, who slowly followed him. What had been a friendly, deferential demeanor now a look of cold calculation.

So that's Frank Drebbin…Lorelei thought. Pausing to sweep a few papers as other staff emerged from various offices and moved down the hall.

Time to prove the Killmore Girls never fail…