Thursday, January 19, 2012

Part 18: The Lost (Forgotten) Episode

Dear confused readers,
 Part 18 is to be read after Part 19 for reasons explained in the post entitled "Concerning Part 18". However, the events in Part 19 occur AFTER the events in Part 18 chronologically. I hope this alleviates the confusion.


Jake "The writer who was on time"


"Are you getting sick, Gary the P?" Calara hiccuped, as she had realized that she couldn't leave Gary the P by himself with a mute person and had driven back.

"Naw, shawty." Gary the P R&B'd.

Charlie stroked his chin in an unrelated subplot.

Unsure where they were headed, our heroes, in their individual scooters, were blazing down the highway in search of Hubert. They had the feeling that an intensely dramatic climax was about to happen, so everyone was on their toes (metaphorically, they were actually flat-footed on their scooters).

*cough* coughed Charlie. Calara looked suspiciously at him, then decided it was probably irrelevant.

Right as Gary the P started singing "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister in a Japanese falsetto, they heard a high-budget explosion several miles in front of them. Recognizing an obvious future plot point, the gang sped as quickly as they could towards the flames.

When they arrived, they saw a warehouse burning at temperatures likely exceeding a bazillion degrees. Gary the P hopped off his scooter and began to rush in to see what had happened. Calara briskly stopped him and handed him a prepared statement on a sheet of loose-leaf paper that detailed in a five paragraph essay why that would be a bad idea.

"Oh, right," Gary the P emphasized.

"We need to call the fire department." Calara said lustily.

Charlie whipped out his cell phone at an unbelievable speed. Gary the P and Calara were so impressed with the technique and precision at which Charlie got his phone out of his pocket that for five minutes, all they did was stare at him.

"Gary the P, call 9-1-1!" Calara said, though she was actually 3 inches closer to Charlie in proximity.

"You got it, dude." Gary the P said in reference to a terrible late 80's early 90's sitcom starring Bob Saget.

Gary the P snatched the phone that wasn't an Android from AT&T out of Charlie right... no... out of Charlie's left hand. Wait, maybe it was his right...

Anyway, Gary the P dialed 911.

"Hello, you have reached 911, how can we help you today?" the dispatcher said in a disturbingly cheerful tone.

"Um, well, we just saw an explosion." Gary the P said vaguely. "It's about 200 miles out of Springfield" Gary the P added, making it a bit less vague.

"Okay! We'll be right with you!" The dispatcher's voice stopped and soothing saxophone music poured through the phone's speaker. Lulled, Gary the P and Calara drifted to sleep in a blast of ape fury.


Gary the P awoke some time later. He looked around, but it was too dark to see anything except a few Insane Clown Posse and Duran Duran posters scattered on the wall near him.

"HELLO?" he said as quietly as he could. Nothing.

"Hello?" he said with ear-shattering volume. Something.

"Well, well, well..." a voice repeated about a hundred times over an intercom.

"Who is it? Where am I? What year is it?" Gary the P chortled. He tried to move, but fell over due to the cinder blocks that were anchoring him, apparently.

"I'll give you three guesses as to who I am." the voice said, not quite menacingly, but with a hint of malice, with some evil tones thrown in, too.

"Hubert?" Gary the P proposed.

"Oh. Well, yes. How did you know?" Hubert x-claym'd.

Ignoring the question, Gary the P tried with all his mammoth-blood-might to break free from the cinder blocks. It... didn't work.

"Oh oh oh!" Hubert said condescendingly. "You're not breaking free quite yet. In fact, let's have some fun...."

The lights in the warehouse flashed on. Gary the P squinted his eyes and made out the shape of Charlie handcuffed to a chair with something attached to one of the legs. He looked around for Calara, but he couldn't make out anything.

"You see what attached to your friend's chair? Do you know what that is? A bomb, Gary the P. And it's going to go off in... 30... 29... 28..."


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