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-- Riff: I think Zoë is old enough to make her own de.... Torg: *You're absolutely RIGHT! Thanks for putting my mind at ease! /Whoo-hooo!/* -- (Riff puts down his crutch; Torg has left) -- Torg (returning): But... But... Do you think Zoë's safe? Riff: Take Oasis out of the equation and Zoë's moving into a truly haunted house with a fire breathing alien that eats *everything.* And then there's Bun-Bun. -- Torg (ecstatic): **YOU'RE RIGHT! SHE'S IN DANGER /ANYWAY!/** Riff: Torg, have you been sniffing my homemade psychotropic drugs again? -- Zoë: Taxi's here. See you all soon! -- Zoë: I just have to go home and pack. I'll be back in a week or so. Kiki (on Torg's shoulder): We'll get to say *HELLO ALL* over again! Gwynn: Have a safe flight! -- Torg: It's good to have you back, by the way. Zoë: Thanks. -- (Outside of the house) -- Bun-Bun (annoyed): Who's been into my peanut butter? Torg: *Wow!* It's been a tough few weeks for us! Riff, I think you were right when you spoke of "dangerous days ahead". (Riff has taken a bite out of a sandwich) -- Torg: I think a lot has changed because of it. It has cost us. But nothing goes down-hill forever, except maybe Reality-TV shows. With Zoë coming back, it feels like we're on an upswing. (Riff nudges his peanut butter sandwich in front of Torg while whistling nonchalantly) <nudge nudge> (Kiki poings away) <Poing> -- Torg (leaning back and basking): Yes, I think the dangerous days are behind us. (Bun-Bun notices the peanut butter sandwich in front of Torg; he is not amused) -- (Black panel) <**KA-CLICK**> Footnote: The End. -- Caption: Epilogue: Riff: Dude. You OK? Torg (off panel; under the table in a great deal of hurt): I could use some of those psychotropic drugs now. -- (Black panel) Footnote: The Endier-End. | Flag | ||||
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Riff: Psychotropic drugs. -- Sasha: That's one guess. Riff: Not a guess. I'm experimenting with psychotropic drugs that make people content with even the most torturous situations. I snuck some into Bun-Bun's bologna sandwiches. -- Zoë: *Bologna sandwiches?* Bun-Bun eats /cucumber/ sandwiches! Torg: I ate the bologna sandwiches! I *love* bologna! It's the greatest unsolved sandwich mystery /*ever!*/ <heart> <heart> -- Riff: Well, at least I know the drugs worked. Torg (singing): DANA-*NANA*-NAH. *NAH.* **MY BOLOGNA!** | Flag | ||||
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-- Zoë: Down, boy. (Torg grins at her ecstatically) -- Zoë (angrily at Riff): One minute, I'm asleep in my bed, the next minute it's late afternoon, you've created a grumpy old clone of you, Torg is under the influence of one of your failed batches of psychotrpic drugs, and (*)I(*) can't remember where I've /*been*/ all day! /*And where are we now?!?*/ -- Riff: /I... uh.../ Zoë (waving him off): /*And who changed me?!?*/ Crap. I'm late for my mom's weekly phone call. After I go through that *hell* you're going to tell me exactly what happened or *else!* -- (Zoë storms off towards the safehouse; dramatic pause...) -- Torg (panicking): /*WAIT! DON'T call your mom!!!!*/ -- (Alt-Riff starts clapping at a puzzled Riff as Torg runs off after Zoë) <**CLAP-CLap-clap...**> === NOTE: More _psychotropic drug refs_ <http://sluggy.info/search/?s=psychotropic> than *I* remembered.... Transcriber's note: Squee! The almighty Pete acknowledged NiftySearch! | Flag | ||||
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-- Zoë: I don't like the idea of you putting psychotropic drugs in our food, Riff. We're not your guinea pigs! Riff: This isn't about my experiments, Zoë! Think of the better world we'd have if, even for a short time, we had a happy and docile Bun-Bun? -- Zoë: Why not just get him drunk on rum? It's worked before! Riff: Where's the science in *that?* Sasha: Hey, Riff! Bun-Bun looks like he's about to chop Kiki into bits! Torg: Normally I'd be disturbed by this, but thanks to the happy-juice you snuck in my sandwich, I'm just overjoyed about it! -- Riff: OK, "*Operation: Bologna-Sandwich*" didn't work. Plan-B involves this dart-gun loaded with happy-juice! -- (...he shoots Zoë's sandwich...) <*pht-t*> <**phip**> -- Riff: *Quick, Zoë, force feed this "PB&J" to the rabbit, STAT!* -- (Zoë glares at him) -- Riff: Let's go, Torg. Torg: */*I*/ thought it was funny! I *LOOOOVE* your jokes!* -- Bun-Bun: First good mood I've been in in a long time and *you've ruined it! /It's butt-kicking time!/* Kiki: **HELP!** -- Zoë: Want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Sasha: No thanks! Trying to cut down. -- Kiki (running past Riff and Torg): *HEEEEEELP!* (Riff shoots Bun-Bun with a dart) <*pht-t*> <**phip**> -- Bun-Bun: So, anyways... -- <**SMACK**> <*HACK*> <*WRAP*> <*FAQ*> <****WAP****> <*CHAP*> <**TAP**> <*GAP*> <**CRACK**> <****BAP****> <**SLAP**> <**ACK**> <*MAP*> <*LAP*> <*IRAQ*> -- Bun-Bun (leaping away from the carnage): **JOY!** -- Riff: I suppose my miscalculation was in focusing more on the *"happy"* and not enough on the /*"docile"*/. Torg: *I **LOVE** lacerations!* <heart> | Flag | ||||
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Frilly letters (surrounded by birds, flowers, and a smiling sun): The End -- (Torg is standing holding an icepack to his head and looking annoyed; Tentacle-Torg from another dimension is lying next to him, out cold, with a long serpent-like tongue hanging out of his mouth; tentacles are visible under his shirt) -- Riff: *WHAT?!?* Gwynn (dressed up for Christmas, including reindeer antlers, and still holding her baseball bat): You took this thing out with one punch to the head? You may be our Torg but you /have/ changed. -- Torg (angrily): I'm not sure I /am/ "your Torg!" The Riff I know wouldn't kidnap a Torg from another dimension and try to pass it off as genuine. -- Riff: Well I /was/ under the influence of a "psychotropic drug" project that backfired. Torg: *That's* the Riff I know. | Flag | ||||
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Riff: Yeah, not a customer all day. Torg: They look like they all already have lemonade. -- Kent's Top Sign: Kent's Lemon-Yummies! | featuring the Lemon Ladies! | $1.00 Kent's Bottom Sign: Lemon-Yummies" Lemonade $1.00 (Kent has two scantily clad buxom blondes helping him with his lemonade stand -- he has lots of (male) customers) Riff and Torg's Sign: Lemonade $2.00 -- Riff: Adding scantly clad females and undercutting our prices? If that guy wants a lemonade-stand war, he'll get one. -- Riff: Torg, I want you to go into my room and grab the bag of psychotropic... -- Riff: Torg? -- Kent: Hi Torg! Lemon Lady: Welcome to /*Kent's Lemon-Yummies!*/ Care for a glass of lemonade or five? <*Jumpy Jumpy*> Torg: /*gu-huh!*/ -- Riff (waving a wad of cash): Torg's got a point! -- Zoë: Oh no. What happened? Gwynn (angrily oiling her baseball bat): Torg grabbed my acorns! I don't want to talk about it. Label: Bat Oil -- Kiki (poking out of the head of Clockjerk Riff): Be careful Pasquirlio! Gwynn thinks you're Torg and that means she might hurt you lots asidently! Pasquirlio (poking out of the head of Clockjerk Torg): squeak!! -- Kiki: That kick was just the b'ginnin! If you see Gwynn again, you just hide here with me! (Pasquirlio is nervously looking down at the hole in the crotch of Clockjerk Torg) -- (Riff walks in the front door, while Gwynn hunts for Torg in the next room, and the two Clockjerks walk away) Kiki: Now let's split up like they do in the movies! Pasquirlio: squeek. -- Riff (carrying a shirt for Gwynn): Counterstrike time! Gwynn? *Hey Gwynn!* I got a modeling job for ya! -- Gwynn (running after the Clockjerk Torg; bat raised): Torg, /*there*/ you are! Pasquirlio (poking out of the neck of Clockjerk Torg; frightened): /*squeeeEEK!*/ -- (Pasquirlio tries to enter Riff's neck (thinking that Riff is Clockjerk Riff)) <*Scramble Skritchy*> Riff: **YEARGH!** Label on Shirt that Riff was carrying: Squeeze <lemon> Me -- Gwynn: /***EEEEK! A SQUIRREL'S TRYING TO ENTER RIFF'S NECK!***/ -- Kiki (from inside Clockjerk Riff): You got lots of lemonade, Pasquirlio. Torg: *WORD, BRO-LIO* | Flag |