"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 XXXVII...
We've taken many a gamble in our line of work, Lorelei, now safely out of the Department...Every place has an easy exit for the invisible staff no one cares about...Except my really great co-workers on tonight's shift, natch.
But never quite as big a one as this...And it being my little one taking said gamble, my mother's heart is atremblin'.
But she was game for it...And it was largely her plan. Now just to see how badly they want this Dr. Morene and how good my girl is acting the part of "stoolie".
Though, frankly, if things seem likely to go to hell, I won't give a flying f- for Morene or even our loyal customer, Steve Banner. Family first, after all.
On the other hand, if my Rory pulls this off and we land our quarry, in the heart of American security...One for the books...The Scarchetti annals.
One for you, dad, she thought, fondly. And poor grandpa, Antonio.
...
"You know this is still a pretty good-sized group. I don't know if Morene will buy it." Rory, shaking head. As Marjorie, Frank, and two agents stood with her outside the agency HQ.
Hocken, with a van full of other agents, including Jeremy and Sinclair, likewise waiting down the street.
"You'll have to make him buy it, sweetheart." Marjorie, coldly. She and Frank and the two agents having dressed down to jeans and hoodies. For purposes of blending in better in the neighborhood.
She would have to look great in casual too...Frank sighed inwardly, eyeing Marjorie.
"Ready, partner?" Marjorie smiled at Frank. "I will say, it's great to be in the field again."
I kinda feel like Dolly Levi, or the matchmaker from "Fiddler on the Roof", Ed thought, eagerly watching the group via telescopic monitor on van. Wish Edna could be here, she loves to matchmake when mentally stable. And while she loves Jane, she's been worried about Frank being alone, when she's rational.
No offense, Janey. We love you.
...
The Lair, main lab complex...
"I'm what?!" Crumpf's voice on loudspeaker.
"You are a disembodied brain, Fred." Banner called. "You know, like Spock in that episode of..."
"What da fuck?! You was supposed to get me into Wilson, Steve! I wuz all set to drop a hundred and fifty...Er, fifty pounds and enjoy bein' a girl!"
Trouble in Paradise, I see...Matisse elegantly noted.
"Fred...You know things didn't go as planned. Thanks to that Frank Drebbin, we had to act fast, we just barely managed to save you. And even if 'Operation Camp David' may have to be put on hold..." Banner noted calmly.
"Drebbin! Yeah, I remember him! Is he dead yet?! He better be dead, Steve!"
"We've got our best on it, Fred." Banner noted.
"Steve's doing his best, Dad." Fred Jr spoke up.
"Who da the fuck told you ta speak, Junior?!" Crumpf cried the eyes in their special sockets turning to him. Eehew...Evita, Fred, and most, grimacing... "Steve! I want Frank Drebbin dead! Yesterday! Say, wait? If I got no mouth, how've I been eatin' those cheeseburgers?"
"Electrical stimulus, Leader." Mabuse noted, stepping forward. "We discussed this earlier. It's to help you with the transition till you are in a host body."
"Well?! Keep it up! Those were good burgers! And what about sex?! I want some sex! Now!"
Nice to see Dad's on form...Fred Jr. noted quietly to Evita, who stared at him.
"We can stimulate the necessary pleasure centers, sir." Mabuse nodded. "As soon as the meeting is..."
"I don't wait! Fred Crumpf doesn't 'wait'! I want it now! Who gives a fuck what those dweebs out there think?! Now, Mabuse! Gimme!" harsh scream. "Steve?! Throw these bums out till I want to talk to them! And...Get...That...Drebbin! Lemme see his head!"
Increased bubbling in tank, several monitors buzzing, Mabuse hurrying with other staff to check...
Best to end this for now...He eyed Banner who nodded.
"People, the Leader is a bit tired. Lets let him rest for a bit." Steve addressed the group. "I'm sure later he'll be glad to discuss the experience and we can meanwhile review our progress with securing the host of choice."
"I want my cheeseburgers! And Sex! Gimme!" Crumpf's voice, volume reduced by Mabuse as the group, staff, and guards filed out of the main lab room. "And get me that broad, I want in, in there!"
"Certainly, mein Leader." Mabuse, soothingly. Pressing several buttons on a remote control...Heroically stifling a giggle.
"Oooh...Yeah, baby...Ohhhh, yeah...I got your..." Crumpf's voice fading...
Evita wincing as the laboratory door closed.
"Nice to see they're taking good care of Dad." Fred Jr noted as part of the group entered to fill the first elevator, the rest, the second.
Gross...And I feed people to crocodiles, lil' Kim noted to his future planned host(ess).
...
The main reception floor of...The Lair.
"A most impressive success, Deputy Leader." Matisse, elegantly conveying a mixture of deference, disdain, and concealed hatred. Raising champagne glass to a smiling Banner standing by his son...
Several others doing so as well...Some less well able to conceal their dislike, like Smirk, others rather genuinely impressed, including Fred Jr.
"All the work of our scientific staff..." Banner smiled. "To them and you, Dr. Mabuse." He raised glass.
"It is unfortunate though, even as we celebrate this notable triumph..." Matisse, figuratively and inwardly raising dagger... "That we must acknowledge not only the failure of 'Operation Camp David', but the loss of our medical network of experts in America."
"Yah, that was pretty bad, Banner." Smirk eagerly piling on...
I am almost tempted to defend Banner here, Matisse, eyeing Smirk with disdain. But that moment will pass...
"The termination of our network was to be expected and was planned for..." Banner shrugged. "Those involved knew the risks and had been warned when they signed on. Their files were all safely extracted and are available, here. Indeed, thanks to our assistants, the Misses Killmore, the shutdown was accomplished with a minimum of muss and fuss. And our key member, Dr. Morene is still free and actively working."
Goebbels-Banner unable to repress a smile...Dad may not be much of a fancy dresser but he can handle rivals...
"As for the operation in question...It's hardly failed, merely been postponed."
"With our medical staff in America dead or on the run...?" Matisse eyed Banner.
Smirk watching eagerly, awaiting his chance.
"We shall see..." Banner smiled.
"Indeed? Of course I always wondered how you could expect to capture the US President long enough to perform major brain surgery even if you could transport the Leader to her?" Matisse followed up.
Kinda like ta know that meself...Smirk, lil' Kim, others.
"We won't go there, my friend. She will come here, supposedly in her moment of triumph, poor lady." Banner smiled.
Hmmn...Matisse, slightly off-put.
Did not see that coming...
"You're gonna have her come here?" Smirk asked, genuinely dumbfounded. "How would you manage that? She'd never come, without a couple of divisions, the Secret Service...?"
"And someone she trusts...Intimately." Banner grinned.
"What? That crummy...What Crumpf called him? You replaced his brain?" Smirk, more curious now than eager to disparage Banner.
Hmmn...Another success? Lil' Kim eyed his potential host(ess) who nervously smiled back at him, uncertain about his sudden cordial manner towards her.
Am I the new favored mistress or the next meal for the crocs or both? She wondered.
"No, not dear Dougie..." Banner smiled. "Though we did consider it, naturally he would be checked thoroughly, especially now."
"I see..." Matisse nodded thoughtfully.
What the hell else can I do except look like I've guessed? Son of a b...He thought, maintaining poise.
"So? Who?" Smirk, insistent.
"My son..." a stern, coldly sharp voice from the rear of the group...Several stepping aside to let the tall, stern figure through...A large, elegant woman in her late sixties, grey hair piled in elegant gown.
"...Prefers not to say. For the sake of the surprise and security. In such matters contrary to his unfortunate dress style, he is most discreet." She finished in strong voice with Germanic accent pausing in the midst of the group now circling her with Banner in the center and his son beside him.
"Hello my grandson." The woman turned to Goebbels-Banner. "Welcome to our truest home outside der Faderland. I have heard much good talk of you from your father and others. I...Am pleased." She offered her hand for a kiss, Goebbels-Bannie quickly dispensing one.
"Son..." she turned to Banner, while glancing about the group, eyes briefly fixing on Matisse, then Smirk. "It is as I have said, no?"
"Sure, Ma." Banner nodded happily. "And glad to see you're feeling better."
"Triumph and success do wonders for my health, my son." She nodded. "Though your dressing as a gentleman befitting of your rank instead of a roustabout lout would also benefit me."
"I'll be more prepared next time, Ma. I just got in, you should know that."
"We'll discuss the matter alone, later." Shrug. "For now, I saw the unveiling on the monitor in my room with several of my maids. A remarkable triumph. Do you not agree, Herr Smirk?" she coldly eyed Smirk.
"Oh, sure...Ma'am." Smirk smiled.
"Well. Those cannot do, offer unnecessary faint praise to those who can." She noted, with shrug, leaving Smirk staring. "Yes, our scientific staff, nurtured here by our older generation of old Nazis is to be congratulated." She nodded. "Dr. Mabuse..." she eyed Mabuse. "A success worthy of the past Reich. My congratulations." Extending a gracious hand which Mabuse bowed over, then kissed.
"Why do they worship the old biddy?" lil' Kim hissed to Smirk as the older Nazi families' group clustered about the woman, clearly eager for her benediction. "I get she's Banner's mom, but..."
"Illegitimate daughter of Joe Goebbels..." Smirk shrugged, annoyed. "Some say Mom was some UFA film actress who thought it wiser not to abort, others some milkmaid or whatever old Joe took up with. Plus, whoever the tramp that bore her, she's the toughest one of them all."
...
