The latest from the twins

Fireworks

Sat, 24 Apr 2010 18:39:40 +0000

Good: Well, we're going to take a break from Sand Camp- which, by the way, we'll be leaving soon- and talk to you about fireworks.

Evil: Kids, Fireworks are important. Not only are they beautiful, but we've always felt that firewarks are, well,

Good: Fireworks are like cathedrals. They are a physical object designed to convey an entirely spritual or psychological experience.

Evil: (glares at Good.)*i* was going to say that they were like flame wars... they aren't any fun until something blows up!!!

Good: (undaunted) The National Council on Fireworks Safety has a few recommendations, which we're going to discuss.

For example: Always read and follow label directions.

Wicked: (reading label) "Thank you for you choose lucky fire work from us. Not to be eat, do not point to body. (she points to evil, still holding the firework in her other hand.)

Evil:Have an adult present. (looks around) Damn. I'll go grab somebody. (she leaves. Sound of someone being forcibly abducted from the sidewalk outside)

Good: Well, i guess we'll just go on with the lesson... "Buy from reliable sellers!" (looks at wicked) Wicked, where did you buy that firecracker?

(Wicked shrugs.)

Wicked: Crazy Achmed's Guns & Combustibles, Ltd.

Good: Well, there we are, then. He might be dumb enough to eat plutonium, but he's NEVER sold us shoddy explosives.

(she examines the list again.)

"Use outdoors only."

Wicked: What about the 'In' Door?

Good: It says, "Use Outdoors only."

Wicked: That's going to cause some confusion.

Good: Hey, it's the National Council on Fireworks Safety talking.

(Wicked shrugs. She puts down the firework and gets a hammer from the workbench. Good puts down the list, picks up some nails, and they go to work boarding up the "In" door.

Good picks up her list again.

Good: "Always have water handy (a garden hose and a bucket). "

Wicked: We can do better than that.

(sounds of kicking and swearing are heard at the "In" door. Several boards shatter, but then a thoroughly disgruntled Evil stalks in the "Out" door, carrying a tied up revolutionary war re-enactor.

Evil stares at the boards over the "In" door.

Good:(holding up the list by way of explanation.) It says, "Never use In Doors."

(Evil walks over, examines the list, raises her eyebrows and nods. The revolutionary looks around unhappily.)

Good: "Never experiment with or make your own fireworks."

Evil: Never. (shakes her head.) Not when it's so handy to have someone else do the work- and the trial runs. We ALWAYS hire the best. (turning to Wicked) Did Crazy Achmed come through with the goods?

(Wicked holds up the firework, and points to an invoice on the table for several crates more.)

Good: "Light only one firework at a time." /p>

Evil: If the fireworks you buy are big enough, one at a time is ALL you need...

Wicked: Who's got the zippo?

Good: I think YOU do.

(Wicked sets down the firework carefully on the table and frisks her pockets and boots. She pauses for a moment, thinks carefully, and pulls the zippo out of her sleeve.)

Good: "Never re-light a "dud" firework (wait 15 to 20 minutes and then soak it in a bucket of water). "

Evil: Too true. Can't tell you how many times i've turned my back on a dud only to have it go off...

Wicked: Fifty-seven.

(Evil glares at her.)

Good: "Never give fireworks to small children."

Evil: Absolutely true. They might eat them and choke.

Wicked: Or drop them and they'd go out.

Evil: Or they might aim them in the wrong direction.

Wicked: If they aren't old enough to own a zippo, a pocketknife, or a sabre, DON'T give them anything that's ON FIRE.

Evil: That's right. No one under three.

Good: "If necessary, store fireworks in a cool, dry place." Are ours safe?

Wicked: I put them in the fireworks shed. It's climate controlled.

Good: "Dispose of fireworks properly by SOAKING them in water and then disposing of them in your trashcan." This only works if you make completely sure they're soaked, and even so, i would advocate putting them someplace other than the household rubbish bin inside.

Evil: That's oke. We always use the neighbours' anyway.

Good: Never throw or point fireworks at other people.

Evil: There is NO such thing as an unloaded gun, and no such thing as an unlit firework. (she sighs happily) At least, not in my ideal world...

Good: "Never carry fireworks in your pocket. "

Evil: Does it say anything about anyone else's pocket?

Good:(checking the document) Nope. We're clear. "Never shoot fireworks in metal or glass containers." DON'T SHOOT THEM FROM YOUR CAR.

Evil: Or your tank.

wicked: Or your giant glass milk bottle.

Good: Maybe they mean tin cans and glass bottles, too? Well, better safe than sorry.

Evil: Speak for yourself.

Good: "The shooter should always wear eye protection and never have any part of the body over the firework."

(The twins all put on their safety goggles.)

in unison: Check!

Good: "Stay away from illegal explosives."

Evil: Good point. What's legal can be plenty fun, and since we know crazy achmed won't sell to you, we strongly recommend sticking with legal suppliers. (to wocked) How are his radiation burns?

Wicked: They're getting better. This week he ate a blasting cap.

(Evil shrugs.)

Good: Remember, if you're going to go see fireworks, stay away from the area where they're being set off, and don't touch anything that comes your way and is on fire. (to the other two) So... who wants to run the fire hose? (She remembers the revolutionary soldier, who is attempting to struggle with the duct tape.) Um... Evil... Could you bring the adult? Wicked, you get to run the hose.

Wicked: Woohoooo!! I am a fire department of ooooonnne!!!! (She begins making siren sounds. Good folds up her list and puts it in her pocket. Evil picks up her soldier, who struggles slightly. They all leave through the "out" door, heading for the shed.)

HomeEc

Sat, 24 Apr 2010 18:26:31 +0000

(Good and Evil sit in the living room. Good is knitting a sweater, and Evil is building a small wooden cage.

Evil: I haven't seen Wicked or Mr. Henries around anywhere today.

Good: Oh, they're in the kitchen. She has to finish her home ec projects before school lets out for summer holiday, so she's baking a cake. Hey, that cage is coming along well. Where'd you learn that again?

Evil: (She drops her hammer.) Wicked's in the kitchen?

Good: Yes, they've been there for two hours.

Evil: This is all that videogame's fault!

Good: Oh, i'm sure that it has nothing to do with -

Wicked: (shouting from the kitchen) CAKE FOR THE ZOMBIE HORDES OF DESTRUCTION!!! (An electric mixer switches on. Evil raises an eyebrow at Good.)

Evil: You were saying?

(Wicked comes bounding out of the kitchen, wearing an apron the reads, "NOT TO EXCEED 55 PSI," and a chef's hat, which has a long feather plume jammed into it. She's closely followed by Mr. Henries, whose apron reads, "Do not back up: severe tyre damage.")

Wicked: Cake!

Evil: Is it done?

Wicked: It's baking!

Good: What kind of cake is it?

Wicked: For eating, not for exploding. Vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. (Mr. Henries makes a whuffling sound.) And vodka cherries.

Evil: Ooooh.

Good:(approvingly) Those home ec classes are really paying off.

Evil: Oh, she didn't learn that in school.

Good: No?

Wicked: In school i learned merengues!

Good: ...merengues are good...

Wicked: EVIL merengues! With extra fiendish custard!

Good: Well, that explains what happened to my cookie sheets, at any rate.

Evil: Why are you baking cake?

Wicked: It's for dessert! We have to make a whole meal! (she hands them each a card) And get comment cards filled in.

Evil: Can't we just fill in the cards now?

Good: No. I'm curious to see what's for dinner.

Evil: Remember that i'm the one who offered us the easy way out!

Good: (sweetly, turning to Wicked) What time is dinner being served?

Wicked: Eight o'clock! Formal dress is required! (Good opens her mouth to speak, but Wicked points at her sternly) NOT pants! Pants are NOT required! (she stamps her foot, emphatically. Mr. Henries nods.)

Good: (meekly) May i wear them anyway?

(Wicked nods.)

Wicked: Yes. You may wear as many pairs as you wish. (A crash is heard from the kitchen, and Wicked runs back to her food preparation.)

Good: This should be...

Evil: ...FASCINATING.

(The table is lit by about thirty lights, including three tins of sterno, a flashlight, a menorah, two electric candles, a miniature hula doll lashed to a chunk of wood and set on fire, and some wax fruit that had been wrapped in oily rags, stuck on metal skewers, and set ablaze. Evil wanders in, wearing her usual leather ballgown, followed by Good, who wears a tuxedo.)

Evil: (looking around) Well, she's thorough.

Good: Nice use of wax fruit.

Evil: Hey, at least it isn't being served as dessert.

(Wicked arrives from the kitchen, in a Shirley Temple-style dress with her pirate's hat and cutlass. Mr. Henries has his monocle on, with a top hat, tuxedo jacket and shirt, and- rather inexplicably- white spats. Wicked sets down a tray.)

Good: You both look charming!

(Mr. Henries bows. Wicked curtsies, then jumps up and down, pointing at the tray. She turns around and runs back into the kitchen. Mr. Henries nods at the tray and follows her.)

Good: (examining the tray) Grape jelly and processed cheese spread?

Evil: (taking a look) On animal cookies. I think this is meant to be hors d'oeuvres.

Good: Grapes, cheese, crackers?

Evil: Mind you, i'm not saying for sure.

Good: Look, she even printed menus. (she hands Evil a printed card.) Erm, do you suppose, 'avec le gravier' is a typo for 'gravy'? Gravy would be something like, 'sauce au jus,' wouldn't it?

Evil: Only if, 'oignon carbonise' is also a typo.

Good: I'm just pleased to note the absence of potatoes trebuchet- no, wait, here they are. (she sighs)

Evil: Of course they are, they're a required element. "trebuchet pommes de terre, avec la sauce au jus de vol."

Good: Right. Of course.

Evil: I think i'll be having the 'quesadillas con la agresion.'

Good: I think i'll go with... chef's surprise.

Evil: You're brave.

Good: She's worked so hard on this.

Evil: Oh, what the hell.

(Wicked sticks her head out of the kitchen)

Wicked: Two chef's surprise! (she bounds out of the kitchen, setting down a wooden bowl and a loaf of cornbread.) Green salad! (she runs back to the kitchen. Evil peers into the bowl.)

Good: Is it-

Evil: It's green.

Good: What kind of green?

Evil: Well, there's some green M&Ms, some green fruit-flavoured cereal bits, some lettuce, some green mints, a lime- (she takes the whole, unpeeled lime out of the bowl.) That looks like some celery. It's GREEN.

(They idly pick at the collection while they wait for their food and watch the things on the table burn.

Good: So the marathon was this past week.

Evil: Did Mr. Henries try to run again?

Good: He tried. This time they disqualified him over his age. You have to be eighteen to run. Apparently he's only six.

Evil: Well, isn't that about eighteen in camel years?

Good: Closer to twenty-five, i should think.

Evil: It's always something. Remember when he volunteered to pull a chariot in the wheelchair race?

(Wicked comes out with a tray, and sets a covered dish down in front of each of them, setting an additional place for herself and Mr. Henries.)

Wicked: Chef's surprise! (Mr. Henries lifts one of the dish-covers with a flourish, holding the handle in his mouth)

Evil: (bravely closing her eyes and taking a bite) Oh, my gods.

Good: Now, Evil-

Evil: No, i mean OH MY GODS. (Good opens her mouth to scold her, and Evil places a forkful of what looks to be cheese souffle cockaigne into her mouth before she can speak.)

Good: (sounding startled) oh. Oh, my.

Wicked: Surprise!

Good: Wicked, this... this is wonderful!

(Wicked nods sagely, sitting down and taking off her hat.)

Wicked: And cake is for dessert!

Good: The non-poisoned, non-exploding kind?!

Wicked: Of course, silly! I still need you to fill out the comment cards!

RaptorFlu

Sun, 20 Jun 2010 19:24:55 +0000

(Good is lying on the couch, amid a flutter of tissues.)

Good:   (sniffling) Is there any juice in the house?

Evil:    (from the kitchen) Yes, but there’s vodka in it!

Good:    Why does our juice always have vodka in it?.

Evil:    (coming into the living room with a glass of juice and vodka, and a bottle of sports drink.) Because Wicked got to it first. I’d have used wood grain alcohol.

Good: But I only want juice!

Evil:     You get SportsAid, unboozed. It's the only drink in the house withut something else in it.

Good:   (grumbling) Thank you.

Evil:     This is good for you, right?

Good: What?

Evil:     The suffering thing. It makes you more good, right?

Good:   Hmph.

Evil:     Because I know a lot of people whom I’d like to improve, quite a bit, that way...

Good: Shut up. (She turns on the tv.)

Evil:     What? You don’t watch TV! You said it’s... it’s... (fishing in her pocket for a piece of paper) “the senseless anodyne of an infected populace.”

Good: Exactly. I am now the infected populace. And you don't want to get between me and my anodyne. Now, shut up and let me watch my    stories, or when my temperature drops below 102, I’m going to keelhaul you.

Evil:     Right, then!

    (Wicked bursts through the door, with Mr. Henries in tow. She carries a big shopping bag.)

Evil:     Did you get flu supplies?

Wicked: We sure did! (she takes a set of test tubes and vials out of the bag.) Instant epidemic! Not very fatal, but certainly annoying.

Good: I meant for me!

Wicked:  But you’ve already got- Oh, right! (she rummages in the bag.) We got those too. Here! (she takes out a banner, a batman mask, a hockey goalie glove, a baseball glove, and a bottle of orange juice.)

Good:    Is that juice?

Wicked: Yes. But it’s got vodka in it. (She shakes the bottle.)

Good:    Vodka is not good for the flu!

Wicked:   (brightly) Not yet, anyway! (she holds up a vial) Let me just get a sample-

Good:     NO!

Wicked: (Crossly) Oh, all right. (she picks up several of Good’s tissues and puts them in the shopping bag. She unrolls the banner, which reads, “HAPPY RAPTOR FLU!”)

Good:     Raptor flu? I thought this was supposed to be-

Evil:     Would you rather have a virus named after a pig, a bird, or a dinosaur?

Good:     Raptor flu it is!

Evil:       So this is your face mask? (She picks up the Batman mask.)

Wicked: Yeah. I looked for a KISS mask but they were out. No Spiderman, no dead presidents...

Good:    I think your concept of “flu prevention” needs work.

Wicked: “Prevention?”

   (Evil grins.)

Good: NO.

Evil:    But suffering is good for you! It purifies!

Good:    I’ve been making you suffer for years, it hasn’t helped.

Evil:    Sure it has! I’m much purer evil than when we started.

Wicked: What am I?

Good:     In trouble. Go to your room.

Wicked:     Okay! (she cheerfully gathers up the test tubes)

Good: Not your lab!

Evil: Here, let me help you with that.

Good: Wicked, why would you want to spread the flu?

Wicked: I don’t know. It seemed more efficient than a rickroll. (She sniffles)

Evil:    She’s got a point.

Wicked: A point? I’ve got lancets!

Good:     (to Evil) Am i going to have to separate you two?

Evil:     When you’re strong enough, we’ll talk about it. Here, have some more juice. (she hands good the orange juice. Good quietly puts it on the floor. Mr. Henries picks it back up and wanders into the kitchen.)

Good:     Is he-

Evil:     I would love to know how that camel keeps getting the bottlecaps unscrewed.

Wicked:    (changing the subject) Why is the TV on?

Evil:    Good did it.

Wicked:     (to Good) But you don’t watch television!

Good:    Shut up. I have a fever of 103 and no juice.

Wicked:     So you could be delirious right now, and never know what we were actually up to?

Good:    No.

Wicked:     Damn. She’s never delirious.

Evil:     Not if she ‘s smart... (she examines the gloves) We’re going to need better gear than this.

    (Wicked sneezes)

Good:    It’s a good thing for you two that this doesn’t last long.

Wicked: What do you mean?

Good:    Well, if you wanted to spread it, you’ve come to the right place. I’ve been infected three days. You’ve almost certainly caught it by now.

Wicked:  I didn’t want to CATCH it.

Good:     Oh, you’re going to catch it, all right. I’m going to take away your lab privileges for a month. But in addition, I’m pretty    sure you have the flu.

Wicked: No Raptor Flu for me! (She runs out of the room. Mr. Henries follows from the kitchen, bringing the orange juice.)

Good:     Hmph. (She changes channels.)

Evil:    I suppose you’re going to tell me I’ve caught it, too?

Good: You may be pure evil, but you don’t seem to comprehend vectors of infection very well. You’ve been in the house three days with a sick person. Did you think you’d avoid it?

Evil:     Well... yes. Evil isn’t supposed to get the flu.

Good:   Of course. (She passes the tissues.) And evil isn't going to whine, either. (She changes the channel again.) “Republic    of Orcas,” or “Sweet Science University?”

Evil:    Is “Passions of a Lab Rat” still running?

Good:    Dr. Mole finally learned his own secret identity last week!

Wicked: (Stomping back into the room) Does he know about the radiation leak?

Good:     Not yet! If you get someone to bring in some unadulterated juice, I’ll share the couch!

    (Wicked picks up the phone and the tissues. Mr. Henries, wearing a facemask, quietly hangs a sign on the door reading “Quarantine.”)

Running over your inner child!!

Fri, 12 Feb 2010 21:18:03 +0000

Good: We're taking a break for a day. We have been looking for ways to help Wicked get through Sand Camp, and have hit upon meditation as a possible form of stress relief.

Evil: And it's working, oh, about as well as you could expect.

(There's a sound of cursing from a nearby room. A lit candle is forcibly thrown through the door, followed by three books on meditation, a velvet pillow, and a box of incense.)

Good: I suppose we whould check on her?

Evil: What, and break her concentration? (a statue of the Buddha is thrown out the door, striking the far wall.)

Good: Well, let's see what else we can find. Meditation is not our strong suit.

(Two hours later, the twins are meditating. Evil sits on a black pillow in a black silk outfit, with a copy of 'Zen and the art of pipe bomb construction' by her side. Good, in pale green, is attempting to teach the purple-clad Wicked how to meditate.)

Good: Now, close your eyes. I want you to focus on your inner 'happy place,' oke?

Wicked:I don't have an inner happy place.

Good: Sure you do.

Wicked: No, i don't. I have an inner tank.

(Evil opens one eye, visibly entertained)

Good: An inner tank? what is it like?

Wicked: It's big.

Good: And?

Wicked: It's heavily armed.

Good: Armed?

Wicked: And i'm driving it the HELL over your innocent *#@*ing "Happy space!" I be an army of one!!!! Arrrrgh!!!

(Evil laughs out loud. Good sits back, sighing.)

Good: I can see that slightly more drastic measures are in order.

(A half hour later, Good is standing over a machine while Wicked swears from a nearby chair that she's harnessed into. Electrodes go from WIcked to the machine.)

Good: Now, this is a biofeedback machine...

Wicked: &*^%#ing feed back THIS!She attempts to bite the wires.) @#$@#!!!

Good: It's for your own good.

Wicked: I'll meditate when i'm *(&^#@ good and @%+#$ good and ready!

(Good leaves, leaving the machine turned on. Swearing can be heard through the doorway.)

Evil: Do you really think you should leave her alone like that? (Sounds of breaking machinery can be heard above the cursing)

GOod: Well, the violence ought to relax her a little, at least...

(Trying once more, the twins stand in a martial arts studio. Good is attempting to demonstrate tai chi to wicked. Evil is along for the entertainment of watching.)

Good: Now, move very, very slowly-

Wicked: Hiyyyyahhh! (She kicks, and breaks a nearby railing.)

Good: Well, i can see you've been working on your kicks. But the object here is to move slowly.

Wicked: (miming in slow motion a kick to the broken pieces of railing) hiiiiyahhhhH!!!!!!

Good: No, look. Try this. (she begins to do one of the short forms. Wicked watches, obviously bored.) Now you try.

Wicked: (casually) Or you could bite me.

Good: C'mon, it's easy.

(Wicked runs through the short form in fast-forward motion, finishing up with a kick to a nearby sandbag, which starts spilling sand everywhere.)

Wicked: Hiiiyaaaaahhh!!! I AM AN ENLIGHTENED ARMY OF ONE!!!

Good: Um... right. Maybe not tai chi.

(They drag her back to the sitting room, and put her back on her pillow. She glared at Good and Evil.)

Good: Now, you need a mantra, something that will help you focus and bring you some peace of mind when we're doing training.

Wicked: IIIII....AAAAMMMM....ANNNN...AAARRRMMYYYYY...OF...OOOOOONNNNNNNNNE...."

Evil: Well, it does seem to have her focused.

Good: Right. Now if we can only get her to stop swearing, we might be getting somewhere...

Wicked: You.....can.....goooooo....^$#$@...yourselffff.....

Evil: (amused) Oh, I don't know, i think i could get used to this... (She closes her eyes) ...I will rule the world...

Good: Hmph. (she closes her eyes) ...I am PATIENT AND CALM... (She opens her eyes, sees her co-workers, and shuts them again, hard. She raises her voice.) I AM PATIENT AND CALM.

Got Game

Sun, 14 Aug 2011 15:12:07 +0000

(Wicked comes hurtling across the room in full army fatigues, riding Mr. Henries and carrying an 8-pound sledgehammer. Evil is stretched out on a couch with her feet on the coffee table, reading a copy of Evil Home Journal; Good is sipping a cup of tea and reading a copy of the Financial Times.)

Wicked: Fore!!!

Evil: What sport are you playing?

Wicked: Water polo?

Evil: Without water?

Wicked: er?.. yes! We are playing? waterless polo!

Good: Oh, don't discourage her. She's just so happy about it. (Wicked and Mr. Henries gallop out of the room) I understand they've actually qualified in two out of three olympic equestrian games.

evil: They know he's not a horse, right?

Good: Well, it says so on his passport.

Evil: For those who were wondering, yes, we have an interest in the olympic games.

Good: Yes. We have a strong interest.

Evil: In fact, we?ve entered several categories. For example, Archery.

(Evil, in heated argument with olympic judge, holds out an apple. The judge shakes her head. Evil gestures wildly, holds out the apple, and waves her bow. The judge shakes her head and waves for security. Ten minutes later, we see a cheerfully grinning Evil, balancing an apple on the tied-up judge?s head.)

Good: Personally, i?m interested in the Fencing competition- Women's Sabre Discipline is such a friendly sport!

Evil: Which Equestrian sports did she enter, anyway?

Good:Dressage and Eventing.

Evil: Eventing?

Good: i think she's going to be planning a masquerade; i know she's really looking forward to it. Been practicing writing out place cards for a month. She's even been learning to curtsey!

Evil: Yeah, it's a whole lot easier ever since you mentioned the reaching-the-knife-in-the-boot part. She can drop a curtsey and have a blade through someone's 'target' in .54 seconds now!

Good: And such good form! So we got her some little white gloves and a matching battleaxe.

Evil: And Mr. Henries?

Good: He's going to handle the menu- probably something with several courses, a reception buffet, and this divine little dessert served in ramekins-

Evil: would 'dressage' be why i saw Mr. Henries helping her sew a shoulder holster to match her Shirley Temple sailor outfit?

Good: i think that would be it. They've just been practicing SO hard. I can?t wait to see how they do.

Evil: So what else is she participating in?

Good: Well, i know she's been looking forward to the sailing sports-

(Wicked sets out along with the rest, with Mr. Henries on board as first mate. The other boats all look startled as they suddenly rip down their sail, replacing it with solid black silk- and then, 100 yards out, they run up the Jolly Roger. Whipping her bandana out of her back pocket, she and Mr. Henries set up the cannon and begin firing broadsides at the other boats. Wicked draws her sabre and stands on the rail exultantly.)

Wicked: Arrr!!! Ahoy there, surrender, or face the wrath o'the sea!

Evil: Yep, Scourge o'the tri-county area, she is. Made the nationals with black powder to spare. She'll bring home the gold, all right!

Good: And probably quite a few prisoners?

Evil: And weren't you signed up for Women's Sabre Discipline?

Good: Oh, you remembered?

Evil: Yeah. I signed up for the Boxing competition.

Good: Boxing?

Evil: Yeah, you know, boxing. Lotta punching people, then you get to put them in a box. I'm thinking to pack them with the biodegradable starch packing foam pellets, this time. Better for the environment, and all...

Good: Are you gonna send them to Frieda Foreman again?

Evil: I haven't decided yet.

Good: I wouldn't send them postage due this time. She got awfully upset last time.

Evil: Hm. I'll think about it. By the way- in an attempt to keep alive the spirit of the original olympics, i'd like to volunteer an idea.

Good: Whatcha got? (She picks up her teacup and goes to perch on the edge of the couch.)

Evil: Well, you know how the pentathlon includes Shooting, Fencing, Swimming, Riding, and Cross-country running??

Good: Oooh, i like where you're going with this.

Evil: That's right. Contestants get one gun, four bullets, and a horse. They get dropped on Manhattan island with seven hours to get inside an enclosed area at an address in New Jersey.

Good: 'Fencing'?

Evil: Barbed wire. The best of the best.

Good: I like it. Let's go kidnap- er- 'sign up' the qualifying contestants.

Tune in next time, as we talk about OLYMPIC MOTIVATION.

Memed

Sun, 20 Jun 2010 19:24:27 +0000

(Wicked and Good are sitting at the kitchen table over a pile of papers. Wicked is waving her arms.)

Wicked: Twenty minutes and a hacksaw, that's all I'm saying.

(The robotic butler walks in, and clanks over to the table.)

Butler: Sir, I believe that there is a cat in your teapot.

Good: (startled) What? What's it doing in there? (she opens the lid)

Butler: Mewing despondently, sir.

Good: (Handing him the kitten) Here. See if there's any more around the house that need rescuing.

Butler: (placing the kitten in his top hat) At once, sir.

Good: (turning to Wicked) This has got to stop.

Wicked: (Innocently) What are you looking at me for?

Good: Because you're the meme fiend here.

Wicked: (defiantly) Am not! (she goes to the cupboard and gets out a box of cereal)

Good: Yes, you are,

Wicked: (muttering) Downvote.

Good: (Holding up a page) Here's our budget report. “Epic Loot Pwned.” I think that mans we made money, but I'm not sure.

(Evil walks in, holding a wrench.)

Evil: It sounds like we plundered a village. (She sets down the wrench and sits down.)

Wicked: Oh, that's last week's report.

Evil: Well, then. We did. (She takes the report from Good.) Whatcha doin?

Good: Trying to find a way out of budget woes.

Evil: Don't look at me, I spent all my money on artillery this month.

Wicked: So did I!

Good: (suspiciously) I thought you were taking cooking classes?

Wicked: (Proudly) I am!

Evil: The “surprise” in her gunpowder surprise is that she uses real gunpowder.

(Good looks blankly at the air for a moment, then flips open her schedule book.)

Good: Right. You're off cooking duty this week; I'm putting you on cleanup instead.

Evil: (To Wicked) Can I have your recipe?

Wicked: No! (She crosses her arms and shakes her head.) Never gonna give it up!

Evil: Oh, don't start that. So who's cooking?

Good: You are.

Wicked: (sadly) Peanut butter jelly time again.

Good: (holding up another page) We can't afford to keep spending. And don't look at me, I'm already sponsoring two third world countries that you two are responsible for.

Wicked: Wouldn't it be cheaper to sponsor one sixth world one?

Evil: Don't we have a job? I mean, we have jobs, but doesn't our collective have a job? (She and Wicked look at Good.)

Good: Yes. And I go to it, thank you.

Wicked: Can we get another?

Good: I can't pull double shifts. And you're banned almost everywhere, aren't you?

Wicked: Forty-two states and seventeen countries! (She holds up her list.)

Good: The memes are out of control. And so are our expenditures. (She hears a mewing, and opens the sugar bowl to take out a kitten, which she hands to Wicked.) Here. Find it a home.

Wicked: (Holding up the kitten) LFG!

Evil: You know, I'm as up for a rickroll as anyone, but the cuteness... ugh.

Good: (grinning) ...problem?

Evil: (shocked) What?!

Good: I'm sorry; I couldn't resist.

Wicked: LOL!

Good: If you don't stop the LOLspeak, I'm taking away your Gaia access and your webcam. At least use basic grammar!

Wicked: All your basics are belong to-

Evil: Gah!!! (She covers her ears.)

Good: Can we get back to our budget discussion?

Evil: We may, if we can. (She grins at Good.) See how annoying that is?

(The Butler reappears, carrying several kittens. He spies the one Wicked is holding.)

Butler: LFM! (He takes the kitten.) Itteh bitteh kitteh committeh complete, sir!

Good: (dourly) So I see. (She turns to Wicked) You don't need another pet. Where is your camel, anyway?

Wicked: Mr. Henries is taking a sabbatical.

Evil: Taking a break?

Wicked: No, it's a black sabbatical. He mostly breaks other things.

Good: Like what?

Wicked: Natural Laws, Land speed records, you know. Whatever he finds lying around.

(The butler looks around, and pets the kittens.)

Good: Please find homes for those. (The butler shrugs and hands a kitten to Wicked, and then one to Evil.) GOOD homes! (He silently takes the kittens back, and hands them both to Good.)

Evil: Well, you did say-

Good: (crossly) I know what I said!

Wicked: The power of cute compels you!

Evil: What about me? I could-

Wicked and Good: (together) NO.

Evil: But I-

Wicked and Good: (again) NO.

Wicked: I'm not doing my shifts in jail.

Evil: Oh, you say that like we'd get caught! (Wicked looks pointedly at Good, who nods and shrugs.)

Evil: I hate you.

Good: Then I'd say I'm doing it right.

Evil: We could sell some minions.

Good: No.

Wicked: Some Volunteers?

Good: No.

Wicked: (sighing) I don't see why we have to work in the first place.

Good: You don't. You don't even post episodes when you're supposed to. What DO you do with your off shifts? (Wicked shrugs)

Evil: Go easy on her. She's in school already.

Good: How can I forget? (To Wicked) They called, by the way. Give them back their science building, or you can't go back this semester.

Evil: You took the Briggs building?

Wicked: (shaking her head.) Nope. I took the Carner building. Briggs isn't standing any more.

Good: Give it back!

Wicked: Oh, FINE! (she stomps off. An explosion goes off, and she runs down the hall.) Cake's ready!

Evil: The cake is a-

Good: Don't say it!

TSandM

Thu, 23 Dec 2010 17:37:04 +0000

(p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }Good, Wicked, and Evil are in the living room, packing their bags.)

Good: You can't bring that. (She takes away Wicked's lighter, and adds it to a pile of other contraband.)

Evil: Why not?

Good: Because we don't want you setting fire to the plane.

Wicked: Oh, fine. (Evil sighs and takes a pocketknife from her pocket and sets it on the coffee table. Wicked quietly picks it up and puts it in the webbed pocket on Good's backpack.

Good: Hey!

Wicked: (stubbornly) "A place for everything, and everything in its place."

Evil: She's got you there.

Good: Of all the times to remember the lesson...(The robot butler comes in and quietly begins unpacking one of the bags.)

Evil: ...Wow. Just... wow.

Good: (Dumbfounded) Um... don't... (she takes her clothing from the butler and puts them back in the bag. Robot picks up the bag and quietly puts it in the closet.)

Robot: There you are, sir. (Wicked quietly starts putting weapons back into her backpack.)

Good: Thanks. Please stop. Take the holidays off. Go do something fun. (She considers this for a moment, then looks at Evil, who's beaming.) On second thought, no. Don't. No fun; go do things that are quiet and socially acceptable and legally advisable.

Robot: Sir, my lawyer assures me that my insanity defense is in the bag.

Good: (leaning weakly against the wall) Happy holidays.

Robot: (tipping his antenna instead of a hat and bowing slightly) thank you, sir.

(Good turns around and starts unpacking Wicked's backpack again.)

Wicked: (To Evil) How does she KNOW?

Evil: We're pretty predictable. (She steps back as Wicked tries to kick her in the shins.) See? (Good holds out a lollipop without looking up, Which Wicked takes and sits on the couch with.)

Good: Get her out of the way, I'll have us set in ten minutes.

Evil: Why? We can't get there till EXACTLY half an hour before our flight leaves.

Good: What? No, we need to be there two hours early.

Evil: Have I ever been wrong before?

Wicked: This morning you tried to convince me that the coffeemaker would would great for making a copper sulfate geode.

Evil: (considering this) True. (To Good) Do we have any more coffeemakers?

Good: (sighing) I'll order another dozen. You know they aren't rated for this use.

Evil: I still say if the thing hadn't exploded, it would have been fine.

Good: (Wide-eyed) Exploded? How did you explode that?

Evil: Um... Do you want information, or do you want plausible deniability?

Good: (Thinking a moment) Good point. Never mind.

(At the airport, with their luggage. Evil is having a confrontation with a security agent.)

Evil: (To the TSA Agent) I'm not sure.

Good: (Looking over) What's the problem?

Evil: Is this a keris? (She holds up a sharp dagger, which the TSA agent wordlessly takes away.)

Wicked: It doesn't matter.

Good: It does, too! They need to know what it is when they write it up in the confiscated weapons reports. (She looks at the weapon) Oh, my. Is that a replica?

Evil: No.

Good: Oh. Oh, my goodness- I think that's an authentic Yoroi Doushi. (She takes the blade from the agent, handling it reverently.) This is a cultural artefact from the fifteenth century. (To Evil) How do you have this? WHY do you have this?

Evil: Do you want the truth, or do you want plausible deniability?

Good: (Thinking it over) No. Don't tell me. Thank you. (She turns to the agent.) You can't confiscate this without causing an international incident.

Agent: What?

Good: It's okay. We go through this all the time. (Wicked is scuffling with an agent at the end of the scanner belt.)

Wicked: NO!

Good: What's she doing?

Agent: I think she refused the body scan.

Good: Oh, she doesn't like those. Not unless it's her idea. Good luck with that.

Agent: She doesn't get a choice. (Putting his hand to his forehead) I need a supervisor.

Good: (reassuringly) That's okay. We get that a lot, too.

(Wicked is standing on the scanner belt, wearing a tank top and boxers.)

Good: (To the agent) Do you still need to pat that down?

Agent: I'm not going near her.

(Wicked lies on the belt and tries to go through the baggage screener)

Evil: Wow, she's really going easy on you guys this time.

Good: Yes, she's showing remarkable restraint. (Multiple TSA agents arrive, running)

Evil: (To the agents) No, don't. Really.

Wicked: (To the guards) Don't bother me! I'm why we can't have nice things! (She throws a monitor at the agents)

Good: Yes, very remarkable. Remind me to buy her a new videogame or something. (Another monitor crashes by, followed by an agent.)

One of the Agents: There's blasting caps here. (He indicates Wicked's luggage)

Evil: (Frowning) Only blasting caps? You've got to do better than that. Come on. Please?

Agent: (rummaging in bag) And vodka. And three fireworks. What's this? (He holds up a blue crystal.)

Wicked: (mournfully) The sad death of a good coffeepot. (She shakes her head in sorrow)

Agent: What?

Evil: (Taking the coppersulfate away, she puts it in Good's bag.) Nothing. And now it's nothing put away.

Supervisor: (to Good, waving his arm) If you could just step this way-

Good: If we do, you're going to have to deal with us- and her-all evening. (She indicates Wicked, who has the remaining agents imprisoned in the body scanner.)

Supervisor: But you were carrying DYNAMITE.

Evil: Yes. We sure were. And now there is dynamite in your airport and there is a, well- (She points at Wicked, and while the supervisor looks, takes his weapons away.)

Good: That wasn't nice.

Evil: (to the agent) We're not looking to down a plane. We just want a vacation. The Sooner you get rid of us, the sooner you don't have to spend three days filling out paperwork to explain this. And the cultural artifact you just purloined. (She points at the dagger.)

Supervisor: (Closing his eyes) Oh, gods.

Good: Look, we can just- (she reaches into her pocket and holds up a lollipop, which brings Wicked running over. Wicked hugs her, and dives back into the baggage scanner.)

Supervisor: (Turning to an Agent) Put them on a plane.

Agent: A plane, sir?

Supervisor: ANY plane. The next one leaving. Just put them on a plane, right the hell now.

Evil: (To Good) That would be our flight, 2 PM.

Good: Yes.

Evil: Admit it, I was right.

Good: I don't care, we are NEVER doing this one again. Next time we're driving.

Wicked: (Poking her head out of the baggage screener) Shotgun!

New ArchivePage

Sun, 14 Aug 2011 14:53:16 +0000

Good: We're taking a break for a day. We have been looking for ways to help Wicked get through Sand Camp, and have hit upon meditation as a possible form of stress relief.

Evil: And it's working, oh, about as well as you could expect.

(There's a sound of cursing from a nearby room. A lit candle is forcibly thrown through the door, followed by three books on meditation, a velvet pillow, and a box of incense.)

Good: I suppose we whould check on her?

Evil: What, and break her concentration? (a statue of the Buddha is thrown out the door, striking the far wall.)

Good: Well, let's see what else we can find. Meditation is not our strong suit.

The twins are meditating. Evil sits on a black pillow in a black silk outfit, with a copy of 'Zen and the art of pipe bomb construction' by her side. Good, in pale green, is attempting to teach the purple-clad Wicked how to meditate.)

Good: Now, close your eyes. I want you to focus on your inner 'happy place,' oke?

Wicked:I don't have an inner happy place.

Good: Sure you do.

Wicked: No, i don't. I have an inner tank.

(Evil opens one eye, visibly entertained)

Good: An inner tank? what is it like?

Wicked: It's big.

Good:And?

Wicked: It's ugly.

GOod: Ugly?

Wicked: And i'm driving it the HELL over your innocent *#@*ing "Happy space!" I be an army of one!!!! Arrrrgh!!!

(Evil laughs out loud. Good sits back, sighing.)

Good: I can see that slightly more drastic measures are in order.

(A half hour later, Good is standing over a machine while Wicked swears from a nearby chair that she's harnessed into. Electrodes go from WIcked to the machine.)

Good: Now, this is a biofeedback machine...

Wicked: &*^%#ing feed back THIS!She attempts to bite the wires.) @#$@#!!!

Good: It's for your own good.

Wicked: I'll meditate when i'm *(&^#@ good and @%+#$ good and ready!

(Good leaves, leaving the machine turned on. Swearing can be heard through the doorway.)

Evil: Do you really think you should leave her alone like that? (Sounds of breaking machinery can be heard above the cursing)

GOod: Well, the violence ought to relax her a little, at least...

(The twins stand in a martial arts studio. Good is attempting to demonstrate tai chi to wicked. Evil is along for the entertainment of watching.)

Good: Now, move very, very slowly-

Wicked: Hiyyyyahhh! (She breaks a nearby railing.)

Good: Well, i can see you've been working on your kicks. But the object here is to move slowly.

Wicked: (miming in slow motion a kick to the broken pieces of railing) hiiiiyahhhhH!!!!!!

Good: No, look. Try this. (she begins to do one of the short forms. Wicked watches, obviously bored.) Now you try.

Wicked: Or you could bite me.

Good: C'mon, it's easy.

(Wicked runs through the short form in fast-forward motion, finishing up with a kick to a nearby sandbag, which starts spilling sand everywhere.)

Wicked: Hiiiyaaaaahhh!!! I AM AN (ENLIGHTENED) ARMY OF ONE!!!

Good: Um... oke. Maybe not tai chi.

Two hours later, the twins are seated on their pillows again.

Good: Now, you need a mantra, something that will help you focus and bring you some peace of mind when we're doing training.

Wicked: IIIII....AAAAMMMM....ANNNN...AAARRRMMYYYYY...OF...OOOOOONNNNNNNNNE...."

Evil: Well, it does seem to have her focused.

Good: Right. Now if we can only get her to stop swearing, we might be getting somewhere...

Wicked: You.....can.....goooooo....^$#$@...yourselffff.....

Evil: I don't know, i think i could get used to this...

Good: Hmph.

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