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"Zorak?"
Plonk, plonk. "Do you mind? I'm doing the TV Guide crossword puzzle. Hmmm...3 letters, show that isn't funny, has never been funny, stars a guy convicted of a felony...'Home Impr---ment,'...hmmm..."
"Hey, bug! Listen to me! I pay you good cashola to listen to me!"
"Cashola? This TV Guide's the only thing you've paid me since the Reagan years. Cover story: 'Can the Wild Roller-Coaster Success of Mr Belvedere Ever End?' It seems--they think not."
"Mr Belvedere? What's he got that I haven't got--TRIPLE FOLD?" Space Ghost flexed mightily.
Ri-i-ip.
"MWA-HAHAHAHAHA!!" laughed Zorak. "I've been waiting 3 decades for you to tear your shorts doing that!"
Tad was unconcerned. "Spandex tights expand to fill any void. That's why they're the superhero's clothes of choiiiiCCCCEEE!!! ACCK! EEEK!"
Moltar hit the alarm. "Pants riding up. Beware!"
Zorak laughed, "Beware of WHAT? Small flying objects? MWA-HAHAHAHA!!"
KA-BOOOMM!
Moltar said, "Yeah. I warned you."
"AAckk!!" coughed Zorak as he pulled spandex from his mandibles. "I can taste what Space Ghost has eaten for weeks!"
The Ghost smiled. "Taco Bell has had all you can eat chimichangas since January!"
Zorak rubbed himself with Wet-Naps. "You favor the hot sauce, I see. BROTHER--Do I see."
"Moltar, who are tonight's guests?"
"Mmm, let's see--Albert Einstein, Richard Nixon, Elvis, The Man From Glad, Brian Eno, a guy who fixed Alan Laddie's plumbing but Laddie can't pay up so he's on the show, and God."
"What?! Who?!"
"I don't know how Gonzalez did it, but we've got God."
"Brian Eno? Who's he? Has he been on Letterman?"
"Ummm...I don't know. But I do know God hasn't done a guest shot since Our Lady of Fatima."
Tad Ghostal thought about that. "Fatima...She's got that show opposite Oprah, right?"
"Mmmm...possibly. Should I put God on?"
"Was this Eno guy in the Beatles? I hear they were bigger than Him in the 60s...Wait a minute. I thought we had a 'Cooking With Brak' scheduled ahead of any dieties."
Moltar sighed, then shifted his directorial stick-shift. On screen was a really big guy in a beard, sitting on a cloud and cleaning his nails with a lightning bolt. "Can you hold?"
"Sure," said God. "It is like I've got all eternity here, you know."
Space Ghost intoned, "Now it's time for Coo--"
"Mmm, Space Ghost?"
"What do you want now, Zorak?"
"I was just wondering...Who would win in a fight? Frank Perdue's son or Orville Reddenbacher's son?"
"I'd guess Perdue. For it takes a tough man to make a tender chicken. Now it's time f--"
"Mmm, Space Ghost?"
"What?!"
"Ohh...nothing. Except...Can I sign your cast?"
"Crimenies! For the last time, no! No evil masterminds are signing it!" He touched the plaster wrapped over his hood. "Boy, it still stings. That nut who shot me in the commissary is gonna pay for this, if I ever catch him. Are you sure neither of you saw who did it?"
Plonk, plonk. "Err...No. I was all wrapped up in the latest issue of Elle. They had an article on highlighting your cheekbones."
"Moltar?"
"I was eating soup."
"You're always eating soup! Answer the question! Who tried to kill me?"
"Obviously, someone stupid enough to think he could off you with a head shot."
"Oooh yeah! My superpoweredful skull is denser than neutronium. Many's the poor villianous sap who's tried that ploy and failed. Now get Brak in here."
"You know," said Moltar, "Just possibly God might be a scootch more interesting. He can make it rain frogs, you know."
"A plague of locusts would hit the spot right about now." said Zorak.
"Would not! Room full of Locars? We'd be smugged to death. Get Brak in here!"
"Whatever." Moltar pulled the magic lever and accessed the viewscreen in the green room. "You're on, 'Brak'. Heh heh."
"Huh? I ain't on Brak! He'd get all wrinkly if I was!"
"Sisto, am I going to have to explain the diabolical plot to you again? You're wearing Brak's mask so you can get up close and personal with the Ghost. That means you've got to pretend to be Brak. Sort of like you're John Travolta in 'Face/Off'."
"Could I be Barbarino instead? 'Yo, Mr Kottah! I'm gonna murderize youse!'"
"No. Be Brak. Now get out there."
"And now it's time for Cooking with Brak!"
"Brak? Where?? Oh! Brak! Who would be me. For it is I, Brak. Not a guy of non-Brakness, but me, Brak. Yep."
"Brak? Are you feeling okay?" asked Space Ghost.
"What's it to ya, ya big sack of dog poo?!"
"WHAT?"
Moltar shook his head. "This isn't going to work."
"Space Ghost," Zorak said hastily, "I think what 'Brak' said was 'achoo.' Maybe he really isn't feeling so good. Isn't that right, Brakkums?"
"Where?--oh, me. Uhhh...Yeah. Not feelin' good. Can barely remember my own name! Ha. Ha." Sisto closed his eyes and mumbled, "I is Brak, I is Brak..."
"Brak! Do the cooking thing!" yelled the Ghost.
"HEY! I'm havin' a Stanislavski moment here! I got lines to block, ya big-assed beef log inna cape!"
Space Ghost looked at Zorak and hissed, "I suppose that was, what, a hiccup?"
Zorak looked uncomfortable. "Can I go home now?"
Space Ghost raised his power bands and pointed them at 'Brak.' "Either you start cooking, or I do."
"Yeah, Cookin' with Brak, here I am, big deal. Today we're makin' cream puffs. Well, we would, but them things sound like they's for sissies. Instead I'm makin' a dee-lish dish from my home planet, which us there call--Grease Puffs!"
Space Ghost thought, Well, that's pretty unappetising. Maybe this is Brak. Though I have the strangest feeling it's not...
He rubbed the cast on his head, but could go no further with the thought.
"Ya see, you take some of these wrapper things, they's made of corn I think, and ya fill 'em with all sortsa greasy stuff. Peppers, onions, any of the many beans ya got lyin' around, salsa..."
Space Ghost perked up. "Grease Puffs? Those are chimichangas! Have you got --chicken chimichangas?"
"No chicken. Just jotok. Tastes like rattlesnake. Oh Mr Ghost, so handsome in yer suit of many food stains, would you like this big fat juicy chimichanga, fresh off the Taco Bell heat lamp?"
"Would I!"
"And what kinda sauce would ya like? Red, hot red, green, or A-1?"
"Hot sauce!"
"Knew he'd say that." said Zorak with a shudder.
Sisto picked up a bottle with a skull-and-crossbones, a hazardous materials symbol, and a radioactivity warning sign on it, and dowsed the Grease Puff heavily. He handed the Puff of Poison to Space Ghost. "Eat hearty!"
"I always do. I've got a superhero metabolism." He raised the puff to his mouth--
Only to have it slapped from his hand. "Hey! Get your own!"
"It's poisoned." said the stranger.
Sisto yelled, "Thanks fer nothin', ya jerk!"
The stranger narrowed his eyes to slits and said to Sisto in a Voice of Doom, "YOU."
"Well...No. I'm Brak at the moment."
"When you try to kill a man, SISTO, you need to make sure that you do."
Sisto looked the stranger over. All his clothes were black leather, except his pants, which were at least nine sizes too large and hanging six inches below his waist. He had multiple piercings and tattoos, and wore eye shadow. His sneakers cost as much as a small car. He was wearing a baseball hat backwards, which sat a good foot above his scalp because his hair was so bouffed up. "I never forget a face, specially of people I try to kill. Well, that ain't true. I forget lotsa stuff. But I sure as hell would remember someone whose mama dresses him so funny."
"Damn you! I don't dress like this because I want to! This is how everyone dresses in the MTV Dimension! Where you left me stranded! Stranded to DIE! Remember me now? For I am-- SEEDY TEK!!"
The only sound heard above the silence was a soft plonk, plonk.
"No. Can't say that I do. You guys?"
"No." "Not me." "See de what?"
"AARRRGGHH!!" Seedy screamed. "Me kill Sisto! Kill Sisto NOW!!" He lunged for Sisto's throat, but slipped on the spilled Grease Puff and fell. "Ow!"
"Hey...I remember you! I believe I told you NOT to go into the door that led to the dimensional vortex that led to the MTV Dimension that Jack built. But, listen to me? No! Ya got what you deserved!"
"I HAVE EVERY HANSON LYRIC BURNED INTO MY BRAIN!!"
"Well, nobody deserves that--Hey! Urrk!" Seedy at last got hold of Sisto's throat and began throttling the life outta him.
"Space Ghost!" yelled Zorak. "Shouldn't you be stopping this, you being a superhero buttinsky and all?"
Space Ghost yawned. "Yep. I'll get right onto saving the lying little poisoner. But, you know, talk show host first, superhero later. Why don't you get God to do it? I hear He's a real goody two-shoes."
Moltar said, "He had to leave. Said He had some children's letters to answer."
"Hey!" gasped Sisto. "Chokin' here! Dyin'! Life flashin' before my eyes and--Oh! So that's where I lost my car keys eight years ago! Hey, will ya look at me as a baby? Talk about cute--UURRKK!"
"GRR!" growled Seedy. "GRR! GRR!"
And then************************
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"Moltar! Status report!"
"Power surge. Caused when hundreds of hopelessly confused people said, 'What the hell?!' and simultaneously hit the 'back' button on their web browsers."
"So...Did you see who won the duel to the death?"
"I was eating soup."
