Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Bacon!

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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Otaking » Tue Aug 28, 2012 5:22 am

..."Why are you bothering me? I've got an incredible amount on my plate here! Besides suffering the indignities of the thinly veiled innuendo inherent in this institution's moniker, the recent appearance of Cernunnos the Horned God on this campus has everyone lost in the proverbial wood!" "And let me tell you, this wood is THICK!" "To top that off, this place is starting to feel like A&T's personal tryst thread!"

Fred (since he was actually an experimental amalgamation in applied animation science between P&A Fred and Scooby-Doo Fred) grabbed his orange mankerchief and wiped the sweat from his heroic brow. "Jeepers", he thought, "is it getting hot in here or is it just"...
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Tamar » Tue Aug 28, 2012 7:14 am

Alice Macher wrote:Another person who was satisfied was Fred, over at the all-male Dockers University. Why? Because he and Brian had received permission to film a documentary on residence life there. However, when they informed Hank, their RA, Hank's eyes narrowed and he said...


..."Well, if the Res Powers That Be say you can, then I have to let you. But damn it, Fred, you just interrupted some quality brooding."

"Aw, Hank-er-chief." Fred rested a hand on his arm and smiled. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

Hank pulled away and did not smile. "First of all, don't ever call me that again. Second, isn't that the sort of thing I'm supposed to ask? Given that it's--ugh--part of my job and all."

"I like you too, dude. But srsly--ach, Lisa, it's like you're still here, and male, and not just temporarily for reproductive purposes---seriously, what's wrong, Hank? You can tell me. I may or may not be able to help, but I do promise at least to listen and not call you any more campy names."

Hank sighed and half-smiled. "Damn it, Rudolph, you make it hard for a guy to disdain you. All right. It all started yesterday, when one of my pre-law profs--the poli-sci one--rejected my proposal to research the political fundraising strategy of...
Rebhel wrote:I happen to like Lisa BECAUSE of the way she speaks. If you don't get her, oh well... you are the one missing out.


Go ask Alice; I think she'll know.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby lilithanat » Tue Aug 28, 2012 9:54 am

...getting down on one's knees, crying and begging."

Fred peered at him out of the corner of his eyes.

"What? It's a completely legal and above-board fundraising method. Granted, it's not one you hear much about in the media, because it's somewhat undignified and used only when a campaign is in dire straits, but..."

"I don't know, Hank. While I can certainly get behind the 'on one's knees' part--"

"Hurr durr."

"Sorry. Had to. --I really don't see how crying and begging a prospect for a contribution would be at all effective. Can you give an example?"

"Sure." Hank, now energized as he temporarily forgot his disappointment with his prof, stood up from his bed, where he'd been sitting, and paced the room, index finger out. "As recently as 2008, Obama's campaign manager, at a point where it was still anyone's guess whether Obama or Hilary Rodham Clinton would grab enough states to win the Dem nomination, successfully used that very method to coax the maximum allowable $2,500 out of a key prospect, who in fact was your hometown's own...
A totally valid...corruption.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Alice Macher » Tue Aug 28, 2012 8:45 pm

...Toeny Toeblertoene."

"The Toe-Sock King?" Fred leaned forward. "Really? But he's insane. I didn't think he'd even be interested in the political process, at least as we understand it."

Hank smirked. "Indeed. And as you probably know, the insane, even those who've inexplicably made a lot of money, can be very stubborn. That's why Obama's man resorted to crying and begging."

Fred nodded. "And he does love to see people happy, in the end, so I guess someone crying and carrying on in front of him would make him feel bad."

"Now you've got it."

"So if I may ask, why did your prof reject that topic for your paper?"

Hank sighed, primped his hair and sat back down on the bed. "Ha. Well, remember when I said it's not a fundraising technique you ever hear much about? Prof. Buster* told me there are...certain interests that want to keep it that way. And not just because of the undignified bit. They've been systematically, and ruthlessly, stifling research and reportage on 'CryBeg' fundraising for twenty-odd years. You see--"

"Reportage, you say? Hey, this could be yet another investigative journalism opportunity for Bri and me."

Hank's expression veered sharply from its usual range of irritation and general disgust to genuine alarm, even anxiety. It hurt his facial muscles.

"Fred. Listen to me. Don't you and Brian pursue this. As your R.A., it's my responsibility, whether I like y--it or not, to look out for your welfare and safety."

Fred chuckled. "Oh come on, Hank. You can be so melodramatic. You should try being campy for a change, comme moi. Well, like me sometimes."

Hank grabbed his wrist. "This. Is not. A joking. Matter. Prof. Buster told me all about it, you see. These...interests that want to keep CryBeg a secret will, if affronted, make you wish not only that you had never been born, but that your parents, ancestors, and possibly all of creation itself, had never come into existence. He...he could only hint at the existential horrors that would befall you, but that was more than enough for me."

Fred shuddered and gulped. "But why? Why is it so important to these 'interests' to suppress it? And just who or what are these interests, anyway?"

Hank looked back and forth slowly, then under his bed, then tapped the ceiling panels, then sat back down and leaned well forward, speaking in a whisper while holding his hand over his lips.

"They are the...



* Philip "Phil" A. Buster, Ph.D., Political Science, Rutgers University, 1983. A leading scholar in his field, he's best known outside of academia for his award-winning jazz vocal performance in the 1980 Schoolhouse Rock short, I'm Just a Pork Barrel.
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Tamar » Wed Aug 29, 2012 7:53 pm

...INTERESTS."

"You've already said that," said Fred.

Hank shook his head. "No, I said there were certain interests. And now I'm telling you they're called the INTERESTS. And to prevent an Abbott and Costello routine, I'll just come right out and say the latter is all in caps, because it's an acronym. It stands for the Independent National Trust for Esoteric Rigging of the Electoral System with Theatrical Supplication."

"That's the worst acronym I've ever heard."

"Well, they're esoteric, right? As in hidden? So why would they need a catchy acronym designed for mass appeal?"

"...Point. But listen, while I believe you that these... INTEREST folks aren't people to mess around with, even so, election rigging is majorly illegal, last I checked. Shouldn't someone]--the FBI, the NSA, the DOJ, get on their case?"

Hank looked at Fred for a moment, then fell backwards on the bed and--laughed. Long and hard. Fred found it most unsettling. (And no, not because of the "long and hard" bit, which is my description of the laughter, not how he perceived it, okay? Sheesh.)

"Ohhhh, Fred, Fred, Fred." Hank sat up and wiped his eyes. "You think those agencies haven't been trying for years to get something on INTERESTS? You think it's that simple?"

"No." Fred frowned and folded his arms. "But as usual with us freshmen, you're acting as though I were simple."

Hank looked away, ruffled his hair, sighed. "Fine. I apologize for coming across as condescending. My point is, they just haven't been able to get enough on this cabal to stop it for good. Maybe one day."

Fred thought a moment. He perked up. "What if an outsider--a powerful one, not easily to injure or psychologically manipulate--were to take on this case?"

"I take it you have someone specific in mind?"

"Yeah." Fred grinned. "A tough, ripped, ruthless crimefighter of the night. Few, if any people, know his daytime identity. It's rumoured, however, that he's one of us. A Dockers student, or perhaps faculty member. (And it's not me. Do I look ripped?) His sobriquet is... the One-Nighter!"

Hank facepalmed. "Not the tired old stereotype about guys like us never having a second date with someone."

"Now, now. If that was partly why he chose the name, I'm sure it's at most a little joke. Because the fact is, he's solved every single one of his cases in just--one night. Google it."

"Maybe later. But assuming this guy's as effective as you say, how does one get in touch with him?"

"Easy. With the One-Night...
Rebhel wrote:I happen to like Lisa BECAUSE of the way she speaks. If you don't get her, oh well... you are the one missing out.


Go ask Alice; I think she'll know.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby lilithanat » Thu Aug 30, 2012 2:18 am

...Stand."

"OUT!" Hank stood and pointed at the door.

"No, I'm serious. That's his equivalent of the Bat-Signal, if you will. It's a lamp, mounted on a stand, that flashes the letter lambda in the night sky. I'll bet the local cops have one, and I know someone who's a good friend of the police chief, so..."

"All right, fine, whatever. But if One-Nighter shows up, please let him and him alone handle those INTERESTS creeps. For my piece of mind as your R.A. All right?"

Fred grinned. "Gosh. If I didn't know any better, Hank, I'd almost say you liked me."

"We are not having a moment here, smarta--oh wait, you're with Brian; I forgot." Hank sighed. "Just promise me you'll let your Ripping Friend do his job and you stay safe."

"You got it." Fred shook his hand.


Two nights later, on a rooftop across town, a solitary figure, dressed in form-fitting black Kevlar (not leather, despite whispered rumours in certain bars) even on his face (with gaps for eyes, nostrils and mouth), peered out from the shadows and saw a giant lambda flash against the sky.

The One-Night Stand, he thought redundantly. I'm needed. Off to police headquarters!

With that, he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, using his grappling gun to swing across gaps too long to jump. Before long, he arrived at police headquarters, where Chief Burroughs O'Burroughs and FBI Agent Pat McBell, recently reassigned to the INTERESTS case in recognition of his fine Belleville work, briefed him on what they knew of the cabal.

"Think you can crack this, One-Nighter?" said McBell. "Hopefully without cracking too many spines?"

The crimefigher spoke. His voice was gravelly and low, like a highway shoulder by the...Dead Sea?...never mind.

"I make no promises. About the spines, that is. As for the case...one night. That's all I need."

"Great! Can you start on it tonight?"

"It's 3:30 A.M. One full night is all I need. I'll be on it as of one half-hour after sundown tomorrow. Right now I got some street corner three-card monty games to break up. Maybe a light drive-by or two to stop. That'll do me until dawn. Bye."

"But--ahh, he's already through the window. At least he opened it first."



The next night, a mere ten minutes into his vigil, our mysterious hero found his first lead. That lead was...
A totally valid...corruption.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Alice Macher » Sat Sep 01, 2012 7:21 am

...a lead pencil.

...Wait, what? --Aha! Homonym trouble. For this, as the crimefighter's pocket mineral-and-metal detection kit determined, was a pencil made of lead.

The One-Nighter pondered his discovery. Aren't pencil "leads" actually graphite? Unless...of course.

Our hero, with his powers of deduction honed from years of reading Silver Age DCU comics and watching the Adam West Batman series, had just realized that this pencil, with its super-hard and super-sharp lead of actual lead, wasn't meant for writing. Rather, it had to be for jamming hard into someone's skull and giving them lead poisoning.

The One-Nighter thought some more. Whoever created this simple yet brutal weapon had to be at once ingenious, proficient in materials science, amoral, and likely a few cans short of a six-pack. But who?

Another glance at the pencil revealed a monogram, WvMS, that the crimefighter recognized at once. (This meant that the inventor was also vain, a common mad scientist weakness.) Whipping a remote out of his belt, he summoned his field playin'--er, plane--and took off at hypersonic speed for Tel Aviv, reaching it in just 1.6 hours. From there, he paid a visit to the ex-Nazi scientist, Werner von Metakognitiv-Sehnsucht, whom, you'll recall, Marshall's super-intelligent capuchin monkeys had brought to justice when they discovered him hiding in Cambodia.

...What's that? You don't recall it? Well, in any case, Herr Doktor was now serving a life sentence in Ayalon Prison, Ramla. And now, he had a (not quite authorized) visitor, whom he heard clearing his throat.

<What? Who?> said von Metakognitiv-Sehnsucht in German. <Guards! Help!>

<They hear you cannot,> said One-Nighter. <I them "persuaded" to a break of coffee take.>

<Well...well, what do you want from me? Are you from the Mossad?>

<No. Just a few simple questions answer, and you won't hurt get.> He showed the prisoner the lead pencil. <Did you this make?>

<Never seen it in my--ACH! All right, all right, I made it. Let go of my arm.>

O.N. let go of his arm. <For whom did you this make?>

<Ach, that really... I made it for an American secret society. What was the English word they call themselves... HOBBIES? No. PASTTIMES? No. Wait, don't twist--ow--I remember: INTERESTS.>

<Good, good. Do you any contact information for them remember?>

Fortunately for the both of them (in different senses), the scientist remembered, and spilled the beans. After warning him in no uncertain terms not to tell anyone about their conversation, or he'd be back, possibly with a capuchin monkey in tow,* O.N. left the cell as surreptitiously as he'd come in, and returned to the U.S. He headed straight for, as it happened, Belleville, where lived the ex-Nazi's INTERESTS contact, namely...



* This was a rather impressive coincidence, since One-Nighter was completely unaware of any simian involvement in Herr Doktor's capture. Still less was he aware of Marshall. I mean, why would he be? Marshall, despite all that old fan gossip, isn't...a crimefighter. (What?)
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Tamar » Tue Sep 04, 2012 8:59 am

...Mató Cheese Malone, who was...a mouse.

"Aw man, this is awkward," said One-Nighter in the alley behind Shulman's Dairy. "I can't rough up a sapient mouse."

The rodent's nose twitched with amusement. "You don't have to...Brian."

The human crimefighter froze. "How do you--?"

"Come on Brian, don't you recognize me?" The mouse lifted off his white mask. "It's me, Inky, aka Meaty Mouse."

"Inky! Forgive me. I'd heard through the SPI grapevine you were working undercover, but not which identity you'd taken on."

"Whose identity. The real Mató Cheese Malone was a gangster who used the laundered funds from his cheese and drywall business empire to buy himself a Rodent Senate seat. But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted a nibble of power and influence in the human world, too. He became so obsessed with this that he built a life-sized, life-like android casing for him to operate from inside.

"Unfortunately for him, there was a short in the brain grid, and Mató was electrocuted during his very first tryout of the android. I saw it with my own eyes, having infiltrated his lab in a disused section of sewer, in an attempt to stop him. Once I'd gnawed my way inside the robot skull and determined he was dead, I buried him there, chittered a few prayers for his soul, and assumed his identity. Thus was I able to infiltrate INTERESTS."

"Impressive," said Brian. "So, any idea how we can bring them down?"

"I think it can be done," said Inky. "We just need...
Rebhel wrote:I happen to like Lisa BECAUSE of the way she speaks. If you don't get her, oh well... you are the one missing out.


Go ask Alice; I think she'll know.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby lilithanat » Fri Sep 07, 2012 1:19 am

...to set a trap."

"A better mousetrap, as it were?"

Inky glared at Brian. "That phrase is highly offensive to my people."

Brian bowed his head. "I'm sorry. This is why I don't joke much. It ain't just the whole grimdark crimefighter thing. Soooo anyway, how shall we entrap our conspirators?"

"Well, I was thinking we could...
A totally valid...corruption.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Alice Macher » Fri Sep 07, 2012 2:47 am

...have me attend one of our cabal meetings as usual, while you hide in the wall, observing and recording until enough incriminating things are said and done for the law to move in."

"Um...you're a mouse and I'm a human. Wouldn't it be easier for you to hide in the wall?"

Inky twitched his whiskers testily. "Yes, but I (in the guise of Malone) are a member of INTERESTS. You are not. Which one of us is likely to fit in better?"

"Into the wall?" Brian folded his arms. "Because I'd have to say that'd--"

"Into the meeting, fool. And that, as I've already said, would be me. How you manage to secrete yourself inside the wall is your own affair."

"But..." Brian tossed up his hands. "Look, can't you just wear a wire while the Feds and I listen in on the other end?"

"I'm too tiny to wear a wire. Good gruyère, man, use your head."

After another twenty minutes of, er, intense discussion, the two crimefighters agreed that it'd be easier for Brian to hide in the space above the ceiling, in between floors, listening in and recording. So that's what they did.

Long story short, they got plenty of dirt on INTERESTS, enough for the FBI, NSA and local super-powered individuals to bust the lot of them (minus Inky of course), which they immediately did. Among other things, the cabal had planned to influence the 2012 election by making...
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Lia S » Fri Sep 07, 2012 7:10 am

... delicious peanut-carrot soup, the one liquid about which science cannot determine whether it tastes better to elephants or donkeys. The intense debate this confusing but oh-so-tasty matter would cause, was meant to distract everyone from ideological debate, so dead ideologues would stop spinning in their graves for a moment while...
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Tamar » Fri Sep 07, 2012 9:45 am

...the INTERESTS used the dead ideologues' psychic energy to influence the public's votes towards their preferred candidates. (We're not going to say which candidates. Complete the Sentence is non-partisan.) *coughvoteWhigin2012cough*



We apologize for the above narrator's attempt at subverting our non-partisan policy through the *cough* technique. That narrator has been sacked. Given our diverse, international authorship and readership, it is not our intention to influence the outcome of any one nation's electoral process *aaatchooLiechtensteinVoteProgressiveCitizensIn2013sniff* HEY! :x

Sorry. That wasn't me. One of our now former interns.

Anyway. At a press conference following the INTERESTS bust, Agent McBell, Brian and Inky assured the American people that the electoral process was now uncompromised, and could only be influenced the usual way, with donations from corporate plutocrats and lobby groups.

Hank, grateful to the One-Nighter for enabling him to write that poli-sci research paper after all, asked Fred how he might contact him personally. But Fred, wishing of course to protect Brian's secret identity, said, "You don't contact One-Nighter. He contacts you."

"But," said Hank, "what about the One-Night Stand signal?"

"He. Contacts. You."



Meanwhile, in New York, Michelle, who was studying public health at a community college, was sleeping over at Marshall's Columbia dorm. (He'd trained the capuchin monkeys to recognize her as friendly.)

"Marshy?" she said, drawing her toes slowly up and down his leg as she lay post-coitally in his arms. "Does it strike you as at all weird that Meg's boyfriend, robotfriend, whatever, looks so much like you and has the same name?"

"Well, his name's just an acronym, an abbreviation, as I've told you. As for his appearance...just a coincidence, I guess?"

Michelle crinkled her nose. "Lisa once told me there are no coincidences. Everything, like, means something."

Marshall looked at her and then smiled. "Be that as it may, MARSHALL had already been created by the time I started here last year. So there's no way I could've played a part, intentionally or not, in his design or naming. Not unless my...mother had a hand in..."

Michelle nuzzled his cheek after he'd been silent for a few seconds. "Marshall? A hand in what?"

Marshall, his eyes blazing with sudden realization, bolted out of bed and began to dress. "No time to explain. I've got to see someone for an explanation, and that person is not my mother, whom I never want to see or hear from again, but rather...
Rebhel wrote:I happen to like Lisa BECAUSE of the way she speaks. If you don't get her, oh well... you are the one missing out.


Go ask Alice; I think she'll know.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby lilithanat » Sat Sep 08, 2012 9:45 pm

...Nick."

As luck would have it, Nick and Missy were then honeymooning in New York, as Antarctica's hotels were all booked. (Yes, we've skipped over their wedding. We've already had three wedding storylines in this thread; mustn't get in a rut.) So Marshall didn't have far to go.

"Sorry to trouble you on your honeymoon, Nick," said Marshall, meeting up with him at the Klezmer Kawfeehaus on Delancey Street, later that afternoon.

"No trouble at all, kiddo." Nick smiled at him. "I told you you're always welcome in my home. Or away from it, as the case may be. So what's up?"

"I was just wondering...when you were dating my mom, did she ever mention anything about an AI project at Columbia? Say, to build an android?"

"Hmm. Rings a bell....Oh, yeah. She told me once a few robotics techies came by her gym for advice on designing realistic and aesthetically appealing male physiques, and she showed them some photos of you in your trainer uniform."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, mom," said Marshall, attempting to headdesk and grazing the top of his skull on the table edge. "Ow. Um...I'm scared to ask, but--did she say anything else?"

"Hm." Nick adjusted his glasses. "Oh! She said the techies were thinking of calling this android MELVIN--for Mechanized Electronic Logical and Volitional Intelligence Node--when she offered the opinion that was an, er, 'dork city' name. She suggested instead...your name."

"But why?"

Nick took a sip of coffee and looked pointedly at him. "She told them, 'Maybe someday, if your robot's a success, my son will have the chance to meet it. Him. And maybe then, he'll realize that, however much I fucked things up between us, I really do love him.'"

Marshall was silent for a few moments.

"She said that? Really? You're not just making that up?"

"I don't lie, Marshall." Nick smiled. "Touching, isn't it? Doesn't it (sniff) choke you up just a bit?"

Marshall was singularly unchoked-up. "She told me to my face I was put on Earth to slow her down."

"Yes, and I did break up with her because of it, but even so--"

Marshall crossed his arms. "She kidnapped me and put me to work in an underground slave galley."

"Yes, but she was judged insane at the time, which is why she's now in a centre for the criminally--"

"She tried to kill that magician, whatsername, Lisa, whom Shelly sent to rescue me."

Nick sighed. "...Yeah. Yeah, I got nothing."

The two men looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Sorry," said Nick at last. "I guess I'd thought I could use your question as an opportunity to...but then your mother's had plenty of opportunities. Oh well. Come with me and meet Missy."



So let's leave New York, New York, even though it's a wonderful town, and go to Hol-ly-wooood, where Good Cyndi was about to embark on an exciting new acting gig with...
A totally valid...corruption.
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Alice Macher » Sun Sep 09, 2012 1:38 am

...Warner Bros. Animation.

That's right, WB liked what they saw of her in Cynderella, The Road to Ruin, Cynderella II: Clean ALL the Things and Susan Bosomheave-Bodicerip, and made her such a great offer that, together with her already considerable fortune, she was able to buy herself out of her Disney contract. (Bo, however, remained with Disney's Muppets concern. I mean...he's Bo. How could he not?)

The offer? Besides the pay--which she had negotiated, in lieu of a salary, to be a percentage of the merch from her films*--Good Cyndi also got free day care for her new daughter, Bolynda, another result of the Timegrabbatron Baby Shower. More on Bolynda later.

So now, Cyndi found herself in her first face-to-face meeting with the chief producer of Warner Bros. Animation, who in this universe was--who else?--Bugs Bunny.

"Ehhhh, t-t-t," said Bugs, nibbling on a carrot behind his desk. "What's up, Doc?"

"My heartbeat, at finally getting to meet you," said Cyndi with her usual sweet smile.

Bugs looked at her narrow-eyed. "You know I'm spoken fer, right? Lola wouldn't like it, an' all."

Cyndi blushed. "Oh! I, I didn't mean--!"

The rabbit chuckled. "Relax," he said, patting the back of her chair and thereby setting it spinning at cyclonic speed. "I'm just messin' wit'cha, don'tcha know." He waited for his new star to stop rotating before he continued. "So, I suppose we should start by..."

Cyndi, dazed and punchy from the spinning, said in a dopey voice, "Well, I was jus' passin' by... Jus' thought I'd say hello... Jus' passin' by..."

"Oh, brudda," said Bugs to the fourth wall. "It's the Crusher all over again. Sometimes I ferget me own strength.-- Sorry, Cyn. This oughta fix it." He pulled an old-fashioned seltzer bottle out of Hammerspace and drenched her with it. "That betta?"

Cyndi blinked and dripped. "Much. Thanks, Bugs. One sec." She stood up and wrung herself out into a potted plant in the corner, then sat back down. "So, could you fill me in on what you had in mind for me, to begin with? ...Bugs? Bugs?"

The rabbit, having seemingly forgotten her presence, and quite probably even his surroundings, was now sitting back with his feet up on the desk, and playing the banjo while singing "I Dream of Jeannie, She's a Light Brown Hare."

"BUGS!"

"Whuh? --Oh, sorry. My attention span again." He grinned and put the banjo away, then sat properly and leaned forward with his paws folded. "Right. So. To put it in as few woids as possible, between The Looney Tunes Show an' the endless reruns of The Bugs Bunny Show in all its different poimanentations, we figger we've oversaturnated the TV market. So Looney Tunes is goin' back inta the theatrical shorts biz, see?"

"Cool."

"Yeah, 'cool' as you kids say these days. So yeah, I thought we'd cast ya in a series of shorts where you'd be paired wit' a proven veterinarian o' the studio, like Sylvester or Taz or...hmm...maybe Daffy. Y-eah. That could woik: Looney Tunes: Back in Traction, Starrin' Good Cyndi an' Daffy Du--"

BAM! Someone kicked the office door open. It was, of course, Daffy.

"OH NO YOU DON'T! Not thith again. I'm the thtar of thith sthudio and everyone knowth it. So my name gets firtht billing, always. Ethpethhhhially when I'm paired up with a...a newcomer like Mat o' Hair-y here."

"Hi." Cyndi ignored the insult and, smiling sweetly as usual, stood up and walked over to shake Daffy's hand. "I'm Good Cyndi."

Daffy, at least momentarily charmed, shook her hand. "The pleathure is all yourth, my dear. So...Bugsy." He vaulted onto the chief producer's desk. "Let'th you an' me hammer out thome thenarios for these Daffy Duck and Good Cyndi 'toons."

Bugs looked at the fourth wall with an "Oh, brudda!" arch of his eyebrows. He turned to his old frenemy. "Yeah well lissen Daff, the writers've already come up wit' a half-dozen scripts ta start, an' I've already vetted 'em. Also, Cyn here gets top billin'. She's our star draw, y'see."

Daffy leapt to his feet. "NOW THHHEE HERE!" He launched into a prima donna tirade that would shame Penny at her worst. Initially, Bugs just let him rant, sticking a plastic salad bar guard on his forehead to ward off the spittle. Eventually, however, he yawned and, without changing expression, poured a box of alum down Daffy's throat. The duck continued ranting, but as his head shrunk into nothingness, he could no longer be heard. Bugs then pressed a button on his desk, causing a large boot to kick Daffy out the door, which then slammed shut.

"Sorry 'bout that," said Bugs to the ROTFLing Cyndi. He helped her back up into her seat. "So where was we? Oh yeah." He pulled out a script. "The foist of these shorts is called...


* Jack Nicholson, in our world, negotiated this as compensation for his 1989 role as the Joker. No foolin.'
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Alice Macher
 
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Re: Complete the Sentence II: Wal-Mart's Revenge of the Baco

Postby Tamar » Mon Sep 10, 2012 1:25 am

...'S No Right and de Southpaw Dwarfs. It's a retellin' of 'Snow White' wit' an all-left-handed cast."

"Oh, hey," said Good Cyndi. "I'm left-handed."

"I know," said Bugs. "That's why we're castin' ya as th' heroine. It's gonna be a celebration of southpaw identity, y'see. We even successfully lobbied the Musicians' Union t' let us record th' hot jazz soundtrack wit' all left-handed musicians on left-handed instruments."

Cyndi was psyched for working on the short, even though she found it a bit odd that director Bob Vice-Ett insisted on having the disguised Queen--the only right-handed cast member in the short--hand her a "left-handed" poison apple.

Three weeks later, the short made its eagerly-awaited North American premiere at showings of Christopher Nolan's fourth Batman film, The Dark Knight's Rise Begins. Unfortunately, Ned Flanders got wind of the cartoon and, assuming it would be offensive to left-handed people, organized theatre picketings in several cities. It was also rumoured--though never proven--that he was responsible for one screening seeing the film reversed, so that everyone appeared right-handed. (That this now made the Queen left-handed seems to have escaped the vandal's notice.)

Nor did it help that Daffy, Yosemite Sam and Black Jacque Shellac, in a misguided show of solidarity with their fellow toons, launched counter-protests at various theatres, complete with anvils, TNT, "Mr. Hyde" formulae and other nasty things not authorized for use outside the WB lot. The ensuing fracas landed not only those three, but also Bosko and--least justly of all--Good Cyndi in jail.

Unluckily, ace attorney Phoenix Wright was unavailable to defend the toons in court, so the task fell to...
Last edited by Tamar on Wed Sep 12, 2012 11:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Rebhel wrote:I happen to like Lisa BECAUSE of the way she speaks. If you don't get her, oh well... you are the one missing out.


Go ask Alice; I think she'll know.
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