...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!
Sorry. That wasn't me. One of our now former interns.Any
way. 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?"
. 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
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...