🚀 go-pugleaf

   It was an ordinary day in Dillweed City.  In fact, it was the same
ordinary day in which our last episode took place -- a day on which three
preteen superheroes met up with a time traveller and an adventurous doctor
of archaeology.  This should give you some idea of the nature of life in
Dillweed.
   Dr. Indianapolis Jones peered around the corner, holding his hand up to
signal the three ten-year-old heroes following behind him to wait.
"There's somebody up there," he whispered.
   "Who?" asked AquaRegia.  "Is it the ice cream man?"
   "Shhhhh!"  Nappy Jones pulled the bull-whip from his belt and charged
forward.  "Yaaaaaaaah!"
   The well-dressed man shrieked as the whip cut into his torso.  Dropping
his briefcase, he turned and ran for the nearest stairwell.  In seconds, he
was out of sight, although the sound of screaming continued on in the
distance for nearly a minute more.
   Dr. Jones knelt down and examined the briefcase.  "Nazis," he stated,
with an air of authority.  "I hate those guys."
   "Nazis?" asked Spoongirl.  "In Dillweed City?  In the 1990's?"
   "Yes!  Even worse, a Yuppie Nazi -- see the gold embossed swastikas on
the leather case?"
   "That's an 'X' and an 'H', you idiot!  Xavier Harris is the name of our
principal!  He's no Nazi."
   "I don't know," Sporkboy mused.  "I've had doubts about him ever since
that day when we had eight inches of snow and he refused to cancel school."
   "Seven-point-six-eight-three inches," AquaRegia corrected him.
   "You can't have a half-decent adventure without knocking off at least
one Nazi," Jones insisted.  "Now watch yourselves -- there may be more!
Stick close behind me as we approach the school's exit."
   Spoongirl and Sporkboy looked at each other.  "He's nuts," stated the
girl of stainless steel.
   "Maybe," Sporkboy agreed.
   "Nuts?  Where?" asked AquaRegia, looking around.
   "No maybe about it," said Spoongirl.  "He's positively bananas!"
   "Bananas?  Where?"
   "He's the only hope we have, Spoony.  If we can't get to the Temple of
the Gods and save the Continuity Crystal, all of history will be destroyed."
   Spoongirl sighed.  "You know, I really hate this.  I never seem to have
any choice at all in these things.  And if you call me Spoony again, I'll
split your skull."  She stormed off after Dr. Jones.
   "Isn't she great?" Sporkboy asked his cousin.
   AquaRegia was still looking around the hallway.  "If we have bananas and
nuts, we have 20% of the ingredients needed to construct ice cream sundaes!
Yay!"


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    @@@@@@@    @@@   @@@@@  @@@@    @@@   @      Episode #41
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  @@        @@@@@    @    @@@@   @   @  @      Copyright 1997
 @@        @   @    @    @   @  @   @  @      Greg Fishbone,
@@        @   @    @    @   @   @@@   @@@@@  All Rights Reserved.

        **"Raiders of the Temple of the Gods" -- Part 2**


   Nappy Jones and his three young charges burst out of the school and into
the daylight on an ordinary day in Dillweed City.  Sporkboy and AquaRegia
hung back slightly, talking.  "There are no nuts," Sporkboy attempted to
explain.
   "What about--?"
   "There are no bananas, either," he tried again.  "There is no food of
any kind involved in this adventure.  Do you understand?"
   "There's no food?"
   "No!  We're off to save the world!"
   "On an empty stomach?"
   "Yes!"
   "Will there be food when we get home?"
   "If we don't save the world, there won't be a home to go back to."
   "Oh.  Then--"
   "No, that doesn't mean we'd get to eat out every night."
   "Oh."
   "So, no more talk about food until we're finished, okay?"
   "Okay."
   In front of them, Indianapolis Jones stopped short, cupped his hands to
his mouth, and shouted, "Corned Beef!"
   "Corned beef?  Where?" asked AquaRegia.  Sporkboy glared at her.  "He
started it!"
   "Corned Beef!" the archaeologist called again.  "Get your butt out here!"
   "You called, Nappy?" asked a young Asian girl, about the same age as the
Preteen Patrollers.  She was short and petite, wearing a baseball cap,
pinstriped shirt, denim coveralls, and a pair of thick glasses.
   "Ah, there you are.  Corned Beef, these are our new clients, the Preteen
Patrol.  Ladies and gentleman, this is my assistant, Corned Beef."
   "Nice to meet you!" Sporkboy exclaimed, springing forward.  "I'm
Sporkboy, leader of the Preteen Patrol."
   "Leader?  You?" snorted Spoongirl.
   "Let's put it to a vote.  Aqua?  Do you think I should be leader?"
   "Well..."
   "I'll give you some M&M's if you say yes."
   AquaRegia snapped to attention and saluted.  "Sir, yes sir!"
   "Two to one, you're outvoted," said Sporkboy, tossing a small handful of
candy into the air.  AquaRegia caught them all in her mouth before they hit
the ground.
   Spoongirl glared at them both before stepping forward to offer her hand
to the doctor's assistant.  "I'm Spoongirl.  I've recently suffered the
misfortune of being saddled with these two losers, at least until I'm old
enough to join the ALUA."
   "I am so sorry for you," said Corned Beef, clicking her tongue in sympathy.
   "Corned Beef..." said AquaRegia.  "I *like* that name!"
   "Me too," Sporkboy told her.  "And she's really cute, too!"
   Spoongirl turned around and pushed him lightly in the chest, just enough
to send him tumbling back across the grass and into the wall of the school
building.  "I am *not* cute!"
   "Nnngh," said Sporkboy, struggling back to his feet.  "I wasn't talking
about you!"
   "Sorry," Spoongirl said, sheepishly.  "It's a reflex."
   "Corned Beef, bring the car around," Jones ordered.
   "Yes, sir!" she replied, brightly.
   "You let her drive?" asked Spoongirl.
   "I have no choice.  My own license was suspended after I blew up the DMV
in California.  The place is run by Nazis, you know."
   "I had no idea."
   There was a screech of tires, a barking of dogs, and the sound of at
least one pedestrian being run down as the grey Land Rover hurtled toward
them across the grass in front of the school.  The vehicle looked like it
had seen a lot of action, as evidenced by the fireplug and three street
signs permanently embedded in its front grill.  The Land Rover plowed
through a row of shrubs and skidded to a stop in front of them.  "Okay, hop
in!" Corned Beef chimed, the top of her head barely visible through the
spokes of the steering wheel.
   Dr. Jones took the shotgun seat while the three child heroes piled into
the back.  "Look!" shouted Jones, pointing back at the school.  Principal
Harris was standing in the doorway, flanked by six teachers.  As the
principal ranted incoherently at them, the teachers began to throw
textbooks and bits of chalk at the Land Rover.  "Take us out of here,
Corned Beef!"
   The vehicle roared to life like a wild animal, but with more destructive
potential.  A spear-like wooden pointer shattered the rear window, spraying
the occupants with glass.  "Yabba-gabba!  Yabba-gabba!  Yabba-gabba!"
shouted Harris, as the off-roader crunched over a row of parked cars like a
monster truck.
   "That was close," said Jones, relaxing a bit.  Suddenly, he tensed,
feeling something brush up against his leg.  "Aieee!  What is that?  What
*is* that?"
   "It's just Cabbage, Nappy," said Corned Beef, as she signaled for a left
turn, then swerved to the right through two lanes of heavy traffic.  She
reached down and removed a small white kitten from the area near Jones'
feet, taking her hands off the wheel for ten whole seconds to do so.
   "Kittens," said Jones, with an involuntary shudder.  "Why does it always
have to be kittens?"
   "You don't like kittens?" Sporkboy asked.
   "I had a traumatic experience when I was in the Kid Scouts," he
explained.  "I was chasing some Nazi bandits who had stolen the Cross of
Cortez from an archaeological site.  We were fighting on top of a circus
train, and I fell through into a boxcar filled with..."  He broke down and
started to cry, reliving the horror anew.  "Filled with... fuzzy...
white... kittens!"
   "Ooooooookay," said Spoongirl, making the international 'what a
screwball' sign with her finger next to her ear.
   Jones calmed down after a few minutes and blew his nose loudly into a
brown leather handkerchief that smartly matched his jacket.  Corned Beef
was now trying to hold the squirming kitten as she peered over the edge of
the dashboard.  Every so often, she would duck under the seat and move a
large brick from the accelerator pedal to the brake and back again.  "Where
are we going, anyway?" she asked.
   "The Temple of the Gods," said Sporkboy.  He had his eyes closed and was
vainly attempting to block out the sound of screeching tires and crashing
cars all around them.
   "The one in Louisiana?"
   "Brazil."
   "Oh, I like that one!  They have a great gift shop!"
   "Are we going to drive the whole way there?" asked AquaRegia.
   "No, of course not.  We'll take the Red-Line Express, like always."
   "The what?"
   "Hold on a sec and you'll see.  It's very fast, and a whole lot of fun..."

[CUE THEME MUSIC]

[IRIS IN on a 1930's era map focused on the eastern seaboard of the United
States.  There is a red dot over a point on the New Jersey shore labeled
'Dillweed Large Town', as it was known before the war.]

[A red line extends from the dot, slowly running westward as a montage of
images run against the background of the map.]

[IMAGE 1: The group waits impatiently as Spoongirl walks through an airport
metal detector.  On the other side, a security guard gives her back three
trays full of spoons.  One by one, she puts the spoons back onto her
Spoonbelt and Spoonsash.]

[IMAGE 2: An old double-prop cargo plane takes off from Dillweed
International Airport.  Dr. Jones is hanging out the open door, exchanging
gunfire with a group of elite SS stormtroopers riding baggage haulers.]

[IMAGE 3: A Texaco gas station just off an interstate highway, with the
cargo plane parked in the back.  Dr. Jones is standing outside, reading a
road map.  Spoongirl says something to him, and he turns the map 90
degrees.  AquaRegia walks out of the snack bar, her arms laden with candy
bars.  Corned Beef emerges from the bathroom, followed by her kitten, and
they all pile back onto the plane.]

[The red line pauses at a dot labeled 'Route 70 Outside Zanesville, Ohio'.
From there, the line continues in a southerly direction.]

[IMAGE 4: Dr. Jones lectures Sporkboy for spitting out the window of the
plane.]

[IMAGE 5: Corned Beef, dressed as a stewardess, is pushing a drink cart
down the center of the plane.  Her kitten sits on top of the cart.  The
Preteen Patrollers are sitting together, but the rest of the plane is empty
except for several cages of chickens and a few goats.  Corned Beef hands
out cans of soda to Spoongirl, Sporkboy, and AquaRegia.  The goats are
chewing on seat cushions in the back of the passenger section.]

[IMAGE 6: AquaRegia has used several packages of honey-roasted peanuts to
create a scale replica of the Eiffel Tower, two feet high on her tray
table, topped with a tiny French flag.  Next to her, Sporkboy carefully
manages to get one peanut to balance on top of a second.  The plane hits a
bump of turbulence.  The tower remains standing, while Sporkboy's two
peanuts fall to the floor.]

[The red line hits a dot at Mexico City.  From there, it continues in a
southeasterly direction.]

[IMAGE 7: The cargo plane is being pursued by a wing of Messerschmitt
fighters with Nazi markings.  Spoongirl is sitting on the tail section of
the cargo plane firing her Spoonlaser at the enemy fighters.]

[IMAGE 8: Dr. Jones gives the Preteen Patrol a tour of the cockpit.
Sporkboy finds a blue post-it note that reads, "I NOTICED THAT YOU WERE
ALMOST OUT OF FUEL, SO I FILLED IT UP FOR YOU.  GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR MISSION
TO SAVE HISTORY BY PREVENTING AN EVIL VILLAIN FROM STEALING THE CONTINUITY
CRYSTAL!  --SUPERGUY  P.S.: I ALSO WASHED THE WINDSHIELD AND CHECKED THE
OIL."]

[IMAGE 9: The cargo plane touches down at a tiny airstrip in the middle of
the South American jungle.]

[IMAGE 10: The group waits at a spinning baggage carousel that seems to be
powered by donkeys.]

[The red line ends at a dot labeled 'Rainforest International Airport,
Brazil'.]

[END THEME MUSIC.]

[IRIS IN on a rust-coated Volkswagen Beetle as it careens off of trees and
vaguely follows a dirt trail though the steamy jungle.  On top of the car
is a still-intact replica of the Eiffel Tower made of honey roasted
peanuts.]

   "You see?" asked Corned Beef.  "All of that travelling took less than a
minute!"
   "Wow," said Spoongirl, obviously impressed.
   "I just wish the car rental agency had given us something bigger," said
Sporkboy.  "Get your leg off me, Spoongirl!"
   "You get your leg back over across that line."
   "That's not the line!  This is the line!"
   "Oh yeah?"
   "Yeah."
   "Oh yeah?"
   "Yeah!  What are you going to do about it?"
   "I'll start by giving you a taste of stainless steel, you creep!"
   "Ah," said Jones, smiling broadly.  "I had forgotten how refreshing it
is to travel with young superguys.  Such witty banter!"
   Spoongirl and Sporkboy both looked up from their struggling at the same
time and saw something very large coming toward the car very quickly.
"Look out!" they shouted.
   "I see it, I see it!" Corned Beef shot back, moments before the
Volkswagen slammed into the giant tree.  The engine, or what was left of
it, hissed and steamed.  Corned Beef adjusted her glasses.  "Oh...  You
meant *that* tree..."
   The adventurers piled out of the car and grimly surveyed the damages.
The car was a total loss, although AquaRegia's tower of peanuts was still
completely intact on the roof.  "Damn Nazi-built car," said Jones, giving
the side panel a good hard kick.  Honey roasted peanuts bounced off of the
metal roof as the peanut sculpture suddenly came apart.
   "Awwwwwww!" shouted AquaRegia, rushing forward to salvage as many as she
could before they disappeared into the thick mud of the road.
   "Not to worry," said Jones.  "An adventurer is always prepared for
situations like this."  The others watched as he reached into his satchel
and pulled out a cellular phone.
   "Will that work out here?" asked Sporkboy, doubtfully.
   "Of course.  I've got extended area coverage."  He dialed a series of
numbers and raised the phone to his face.  "Hello, Triple-A?  We've just
crashed our rental car into a tree in the middle of the Brazilian
rainforest and--  Why yes, this is Dr. Jones.  How ever did you guess?"
   "We go through about three cars a month," Corned Beef told the others.
   "I'm surprised it's not more," said Spoongirl.
   "You'll be here when?" Nappy Jones asked into the phone.  "Three days?
Ah, well you see, we're in a bit of a rush.  We need to save the universe
this afternoon, and--  Yes.  Yes, that would be fine.  Okay, we'll be
waiting for you."  He hung up the phone and turned back to the others.
"It'll take them three days to get here, but they're bringing their own
jack and lug-nuts!"
   "We can't wait three days," said Spoongirl.  "Isn't there anyone else
you can call?"
   "Well, there is one other person who could get here sooner, but..."
   "But what?  Call!  Now!  Do it!"
   Jones sighed.  "All right, you asked for it.  Corned Beef, get our
emergency bottle from the trunk."
   "Sure thing, Nappy!"  The girl bounded over to the trunk of the car,
opened it, and removed a bottle of generic beer.
   Dr. Jones dialed the phone.  "Hello?  We're stuck in the middle of the
Brazilian rainforest with a bottle of skunky beer, and--"  He was
interrupted by the sound of a helicopter moving in from above.  "That was
quick!"
   A rope dropped down from the helicopter, allowing a man to slide down
with a fresh bottle of beer.  "Everyone remain calm," he announced.  "I've
brought a replacement bottle with a fresh born-on date."
   Sporkboy blinked.  "Bud-Lite-Man?" he asked.
   Bud-Lite-Man looked over at Sporkboy and AquaRegia.  "Hey, you two look
like those mustached kids who joined the Super Seven last year!  How've you
been?"
   "Not too bad.  Can you get us out of here?"
   "Sure, but I'd have to see some I.D. first.  Wait...  What's that noise?"
   As they watched, a screaming man burst through the trees, cradling a
bottle of beer in his arms.  He raced past them, and was quickly followed
by a troop of half-naked natives carrying spears.  As they ran, they
chanted, "Shooby-dooby-doo!  Shooby-dooby-doo!  Shooby-dooby-doo!"  These
were followed by a penguin, who waddled after them humming to the tune of
"Strangers in the Night".
   "Hey!  Excuse me, sir?" shouted Bud-Lite-Man.  "I noticed that your beer
does not have a born-on date...  Sir?"  He started after them, and quickly
vanished into the undergrowth.  The helicopter buzzed off after the drunken
hero, leaving the heroes alone again.
   "Well," said Spoongirl, "that was surreal.  What do we do now?"
   Dr. Jones sighed.  "Now... we walk."


ARE THOSE HONEY-ROASTED PEANUTS GONE FOREVER?

WILL THEY GROW INTO HONEY-ROASTED PEANUT TREES, BEARING ALUMINUM COATED
PACKAGES OF SEVEN OR EIGHT PEANUTS APIECE?

HOW MANY OTHER SPECIES OF SNACK-FOOD ARE GROWING IN THE RAINFOREST THAT WE
MAY NEVER KNOW ABOUT?

IF THE RAINFOREST IS DESTROYED, AND THE HONEY-ROASTED PEANUT TREES BECOME
EXTINCT, WHAT WILL THEY SERVE ON SHORT-RANGE COMMERCIAL AIR FLIGHTS?

For answers to these questions, consult your favorite web-based search
engine.  For more stories about young children in masks and colorful
costumes, tune in for the next episode of Preteen Patrol, only on
*SUPERGUY*!

--
And now a message from your friend, Astatine:

"Hi, it's me again.  Grunion voting is now closed, and I'd like to thank
everyone who voted -- especially the people who voted for Toasty Tarts as
your favorite breakfast treat.  Yay, Toasty Tarts!

"I'd also like to draw your attention to the Grunion category, 'Best Use of
Swedes'.  One of the nominated uses in this category, as you well know, is
'Slim Jim ingredients'.  This is truly a sick and perverted idea.  The
Swede's first nane is Gary.  All of the Swedes are named Gary.  How can you
make Slim Jims out of somebody named Gary?

"Sure, you could call them Slim Garys, but it wouldn't be the same, no
matter how much tobasco sauce you added.  Besides, there are plenty of
people named Jim that we could use instead.  Jim Kirk, Jim Morrison, Jim
Lehrer, Jim Jones, Jim Franck, Jim Hall, Jimmy Stewart, Jim Joule, Jim
Watt, Diamond Jim Brady, James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Rice, Jimmy
Durante, Jim Thorpe, Jim Henson, Jimmy Connors, Jim Palmer, James Taylor,
Jim Belushi, James Arness, James K. Polk, Jim Beam, James Joyce, Jim Baker,
Jimmy Swaggart, Jameson Parker, Jim Shooter, Jim Croce, Henry James, J. D.
Salinger, James Gamble Rogers, Jim Davis, James Garfield, Jimmy Olson, J.
Jonah Jameson, J. R. Ewing, J. R. R. Tolkien, James Forrestal, James Bond,
Jimmy Dean, Jamie Farr, Jim Nabors, Jim Carey, Jim Florio, James Baldwin,
Jesse James, James Earl Jones, James Caan, Jiminy Cricket, Jim Plunkett,
Jimmy Johnson, James Agee, Jim Kelly, Jim McMahon, James Worthy, Jamie Lee
Curtis, James Clavell, James Madison, James Chadwick, Jimmy Walker, Jimmy
Breslin, Jimmy Carter, Jimmy Hoffa--  Oh, wait...  They used him already,
didn't they?  Anyway, you get the point."

This has been a public service message sponsored by the Committee to
Designate Toasty Tarts as the Best Appearance Of A Breakfast Food Item of
1996.  We take no position on the use of Swedes and are, to be honest,
horrified by the suggestion of turning James Earl Jones into a beefy meat
stick.  Although, the possibility of being rid of James Carey forever has
some appeal...

---
fishbone@user1.channel1.com                          Greg Fishbone, Esq.

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