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SATURDAY MORNING raises a hand in greeting. "Hi, we're from Human Resources! We're thinking of downsizing and needed to do some interviews. Who's first?"
SATURDAY MORNING whips a hardhat out from behind his back and bugs an eye down the barrel of the guard's gun. "My my, not even keeping it oiled up. How reckless of you!" he turns to the Boss. "Sir, if your gun hygiene habits are as disgraceful as his, I'm going to have to ask you to do some cleaning up around here." SATURDAY MORNING offers a Created feather duster in exchange for the laser pistol.
SATURDAY MORNING attempts to hide behind a nearby thin lamp post.
"I've only been awake for four minutes, but I feel refreshed and ready for action! Let's go, boys!
SATURDAY MORNING snaps back up straight and rubs his shoulders. "I like the sound of that plan, and I could use a commercial break anyway. Those scoundrels did a number on me." SATURDAY MORNING turns around and points to a hastily scribbled "#6" painted on the back of his costume.
SATURDAY MORNING keeps staring intently at the (now boxed) carbon, but takes ten steps back with his legs. His torso stays in place.
SATURDAY MORNING, having feigned unconsciousness since Madd's lab so he could be carried home, peeps his head over the table and slaps a hazmat helmet over his head to look at the process. "Is it safe?"
No idea if I'm pushing too far or not :x
SATURDAY MORNING takes this opening to recover and hobbles over to the vat/civvies. He gives them a weak salute and throws another large Portable Hole into the vat, which quickly sinks to the bottom. This hole is still connected to the one outside of the lab- on the other side of the forcefield.
SATURDAY MORNING huffs and scowls at Madd. "Now that's no way for a patient of mine to act! Calm down right now buster, or you won't get a sticker at the end! SATURDAY MORNING turns to the collapsed puddle of goo and wags his finger at him. "And you should know better than to interrupt a procedure, nurse! You're lucky you're pretty, or else I wouldn't keep you around!" "Now, Mr. Madd, it's time for your general anesthesia!" SATURDAY MORNING leaves the saw running and hangs it in the air, along with his lab coat. He scoops up the chair and attempts to smack Madd over the head with it.
SATURDAY MORNING Morphs to change his costume into that of a stereotypical doctor, complete with spectacles, mask, lab coat, and head miorror. He flicks Doctor Madd's new tusks and lets loose an inquisitive grunt. "Aahhh, I see zat you have suddenly grown ein neuer set of toothen. Ach, and zey are making you so irritable! Lay down and I vill take a look at zem, ja?" SATURDAY MORNING uses his Speed 3 to quickly grab a nearby chair and scoop Madd into it from behind. SATURDAY MORNING creates a large ACME buzzsaw, fires it up, and leans in towards Doctor Madd. "Now say "ahhh". And don't move- it might hurt if you do."
SATURDAY MORNING, last to move, Morphs to change his costume to a black, edgier, early 2000's Cartoon Network design and darts up into DOCTOR MADD's face. "Doctor Badd at Life, is it? Me and my crew have been watching you for some time now... nearly twenty minutes, in fact. Stand down and let the nice people go and we won't have aaaaany problems. You're lucky I instructed my peons to just startle you and your henchmen. Gotta keep it on the edge of PG, you know." SATURDAY MOURNING THE EVIL AND HATE IN THIS DARK, JUSTICE-LESS WORLD gestures towards the citizens in peril as he says this.
SATURDAY MORNING Elongates his head over to Amoeba and whispers to him, "It's just a ruse baby, you know I'd be nowhere without you guys." SATURDAY MORNING winks at the mushman and snaps his head back to stare at Madd's face with a glare that would make even the edgiest of dark, brooding rebooted protagonists break out in a cold sweat.
"You got it, boss!" SATURDAY MORNING pulls a small bag out from behind his back and leans halfway into it. Ruffling sounds come from the burlap-covered hero. "Rubber chicken... no. 3-ton weight... no. Bird seed... no. Ah, here it is! Acme Portable Hole™!" SATURDAY MORNING resurfaces from the depths of the bag and throws a black circle onto the nearest flat, unforcefielded wall. Another hole appears on a wall the other side of the door a few feet away. A faint elephant trumpet sounds from the bag. "Oh come on, Geoff" shouts SATURDAY MORNING into the bag (thankfully muffled by the burlap) "You know it isn't time for your appearance yet, be patient!" SATURDAY MORNING shrugs apologetically at his compatriots. "Sorry fellas, he's not the most patient of people to work with but what can I say? The guy works for peanuts."
SATURDAY MORNING immediately changes out of his hobo getup into his usual costume. He Creates a clapper and claps it loudly. "That's a wrap! Kind of? Do burritos count as wraps?"
SATURDAY HOBO smacks his way to the front of the crowd with his bindle and yells in his most crotchety voice "Speak up, sonny! I didn't ride the rails from Mississipi just to hear the end of this story. I rode the rails from Missouri. But still, can you repeat that?"
SATURDAY MORNING morphs into a hobo, replacing his SATURDAY MORNING GOODGUY MASK and SATURDAY MORNING ALL-STAR COSTUME with dirty jeans, a worn flannel shirt, and sandals. A useless bindle is Created out of nothing. He joins the back of the crowd.
"And where is this Tony fella? I'm not a compass you know, and I'm tankful for it. I worked a job with that North Point guy and lemme tell ya, that guy's a real putz. Got all flustered by my magnetic personality." SATURDAY MORNING leans on the guy's shoulder heavily and grins directly in his face.
SATURDAY MORNING saunters up and slaps Amoeba lightly upside the... head? "Hey, buddy, we're just wondering what the funny business is around here. Because that's my job. I bet whoever's behind this couldn't even fill an 11 minute timeslot if their life depended on it!" SATURDAY MORNING grimaces at the Robbie residue on his glove before giving the passerby a friendly pat on the back. "So whaddya say, have you seen anything around?"
The residue leaves a large stain on the man's jacket.
"So where are we headed, Bob the Blob?"
SATURDAY MORNING gasps indignantly. "Well I never! Slander is a serious crime, Doc! I never did anything of the sort! I purposefully tried set it on fire and drop it into a woodchipper. He turns to Amoeba and Creates a very confused beaver by pulling it out of his pocket. "I go all-organic now, buddy!"
SATURDAY MORNING falls out of his portable hole onto the ground. Holding up a finger he adds:"We also do birthdays, weddings, and Bar Mitzvahs."
SATURDAY MORNING throws up an Acme Portable Hole™ and leans through it as if it is a window. The other side opens up six inches to the right of Breakout's head. "You know, big guy, you'd better listen to the Doc over there. You haven't seen what the man is capable of with a plastic spoon, let alone a gun!" he says with a smirk towards the Paragon. He Creates a napkin and wipes the burrito residue off of his face.
"Ok friends," says SATURDAY MORNING between bites of a hastily-prepared breakfast burrito, "it seems that those ne'er-do-wells are about to get away! Let's not make this episode a two-parter!"
SATURDAY MORNING walks into the room clad in an oversized striped nightgown and a matching old-timey nightcap. He yawns. "We'd better have time, because a day of throwing enemies in the slammer has to be started with a Grand Slam, no two ways about it. Also I need coffee. I can't function without coffee!" SATURDAY MORNING sits at the table and holds his head up with his hands. His head slips, hits the table, and flattens. "I think the universe is telling me to order pancakes today." He says, muffled by the table. |