This site does not represent the views of

Bear with us while we get this organized. This site does not represent the views of http://videogum.com/ Send submissions to christophertrashomon@gmail.com Send tips to tips@videogum.com if they are not posted there, wait a while & send them to iamlizzing@gmail.com Take care, Stay Awesome.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 15

This is the penultimate episode of Gums of Our Lives: Season 1

Blinking as the sunlight hit their eyes, Dr. Principal Enchman, Sergeant Duncan, and Agents Huckabeast and Cakeordeath emerged from the tunnel into a parking lot. If it weren’t for the rubble and debris covering them, you would have no idea that they were just in a giant explosion. Also their hair was singed. So actually you’d probably assume they were in an explosion. What I mean was that there was no smoke or anything coming from the exit. Because it was so far underground. But also the walls were so strong there was no internal damage to the building. In fact, they were over a block away from The Agency headquarters. How is this relevant? You’ll find out in a second.



“Where could Chris Trash have gone?” Sergeant Duncan asked.

“He could be anywhere. The underground network of tunnels is over a square mile, with exits all over the place,” Agent Huckabeast responded.

See? Totally relevant.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say anywhere, Huckabeast” Agent Cakeordeath smiled smugly, producing her smartphone from her pocket. A glowing dot pulsed on the screen. “You didn’t think I’d hand over the microchip without putting a tracking device in the case, would you?”

“You beautiful son of a bitch,” Agent Huckabeast shook his head, impressed.

“If we hurry, we can still catch that dastardly villain before he builds the MacGuffin device!” Sergeant Duncan interjected, brightening up immensely. “We can take my lorry!”

They all wedged into his Fiat and sped out of the parking lot, nearly crashing into a milk truck as they did so. “Sorry old chap, forgot which side of the road to drive on,” Duncan called out. The other driver responded by extending his middle finger and shouting something unsavory.

They followed the signal until they reached a cluster of warehouses in the industrial district. They turned onto the gravel road before pulling off to the side and killing the engine.

“We best proceed on foot,” Agent Huckabeast whispered. “We don’t want to spook them.”

Dr. Principal Enchman began to squirm. “Are you sure you need me to come along? I’m happy just waiting in the car.”

“Whatevs. Do what you want.” Agent Cakeordeath shrugged.

The three agents exited the car, leaving Dr. Principal Enchman sitting in the back seat.

“I’ll just sit here and guard the car!” He shouted.

Agent Cakeordeath consulted her phone. “Ok, it looks like he’s in warehouse B17.”

They began to stealthily stealth their way along the sides of the building, each carrying a weapon improvised from what they were able to find in Duncan’s trunk, namely a tire iron, a 60° wedge, and an M1A assault rifle.

They reached the warehouse and peered through the window. In the far corner of the room an intimidating-looking machine stood, partially covered by a giant black cloth. They could make out a shadowy figure in the background.

“We should try a standard sweep leftwise doohickey” Agent Huckabeast whispered.

“We don’t have the time or the equipment for standard Agency protocol!” Agent Cakeordeath turned to him. “I say we just bust in like gangstas.”

“I’m inclined to agree with Agent Cakeordeath,” Sergeant Duncan added. “Gangstas would be most indubitably the way to go.”

Huckabeast shrugged. “Then let’s do this. On three.”

On the count of three they kicked in the door and rushed in the room, Agent Cakeordeath and her assault rifle leading the way. The figure in the back stood up, startled.

“The game’s up, Trash. We have you surrounded.”

The figure stepped forward. It was not Chris Trash at all, but rather a woman with the face of a surprised little boy in a cowboy hat. She spoke with an accent just as thick and ambiguous as Chris Trash.

“Well, this is somewhat of an unexpected surprise. I see Agent Cakeordeath and Huckabeast, but who is this third half-faced gentleman?”

“My name is Sergeant Duncan of the Royal Lorry Force.”

“Ah yes, the Wedge Antilles to the Agency’s Luke Skywalker,” she chuckled.

“And who might you be, Madam?”

“Agents Huckabeast and Cakeordeath, perhaps you can enlighten the man.”

Agent Cakeordeath turned back to Sergeant Duncan. “This is Chris Trash’s partner in crime: Ephcee.”

Ephcee bowed. “A pleasure.”

“Where’s Trash?” Agent Huckabeast demanded.

“Oh, he is long gone. But you have caught me. I willingly turn myself in.” She began to approach them.

“Not so fast.” Agent Huckabeast brandished the golf club, menacingly.

“What? I am coming peacefully.” She continued her approach, her wrists pushed together in a show of surrender. Suddenly, overhead, there was the high-pitched whine of an engine starting up, followed by a low rumble. The Agents stole a glance to the ceiling, and in that moment Ephcee struck, her hands moving faster than the eye could make out as she ejected a canister from her sleeve. It hit the ground and exploded in a puff of smoke.

The Agents began to cough uncontrollably. Agent Huckabeast noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. “She’s headed to the roof!” He coughed. Stumbling through the smoke they clawed their way to the stairs, lurching up them until they reached a door.

“Dammit! It’s locked!” Agent Cakeordeath yelled, banging her fists against it.

Sergeant Duncan stepped forward. “Allow me.”

He produced from his pocket a small utility knife and began to jimmy the lock. Within seconds they heard a click. Agent Huckabeast kicked the door open, and the three spilled out onto the roof.

In front of them stood a giant helicopter. In the passenger seat was Ephcee. The pilot was Chris Trash. They looked down and gave them a smug wave as they began to hover above the ground and fly off of the roof.

Agent Huckabeast looked at them, then looked back at Agent Cakeordeath.

“Whatever happens, I love you.”

And, with that, summoning all of his furry blue might, he launched himself over the edge at the helicopter.

******************************************

Just Desserts had been driving for a while when a voice crackled on his intercom. “JD. You there, buddy?”

“I’m here, Papes. Tell me some good news.”

“I think you’ll like it. The Winbot van was last spotted taking the Brownsville exit onto Route 7 about an hour ago.”

“That is good news. I’m five minutes from there.”

“Good luck, buddy. Paper Street out!”

Five minutes later Just Desserts peeled through the tollbooth, holding up his EZ-pass. He took the exit ramp and rode down to Route 7. Luckily for him, the westbound route was closed for construction. That left east. He slowed his speed as he drove, trying to get a look through the trees to see if he could spot a white van anywhere. After fifteen minutes he still had not spotted anything even remotely resembling civilization. It was getting dark and he was beginning to grow discouraged. At that moment he saw something in the distance that gave him hope. He gunned his engine and went to investigate.

******************************************

BabyFriday, The Kelburrows, and Teacherman had just arrived at the University. They entered the main foyer and approached the desk. The woman at the front desk was eating a wedge of pie. At the sight of them, she set down her fork and let out an audible gasp.

“Teacherman! You’re ok! I heard you were dead!”

Teacherman managed a laugh. “The reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.” He peered at her nametag. “You’ll have to forgive me. Since the accident my memory has not been what it was.”

“I’m Dr. Gobblegirl. I’m in Applied Blog Sciences. I don’t normally do administrative duty, but most of the staff quit after the accident.” She smiled grimly.

“I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you.”

“That’s quite alright. What brings you down here.”

Teacherman assumed a conspiratorial manner as he bent over the desk. “Listen, I know this isn’t policy, but someone broke into my house, and my family needs a place to stay. Is it at all possible for us to use the dorms?”

Dr. Gobblegirl checked the computer. “It looks like we have a couple of rooms available in the E wing. Like the staff, a lot of students vacated.”

“That would be great. Thank you so much.” He smiled graciously and started to exit through a set of double doors with BabyFriday and The Kelburrows.

Suddenly she called after them, “Wait! Do you have your ID card?” She asked.

He stopped and turned. “Ah yes. That’s another thing. Mine was destroyed in the fire. Could you help me out?”

“Of course,” She smiled. “Just give me a second.”

She began to type some things on the computer and the printer under her desk began to start up. BabyFriday pulled Teacherman aside. “You seem to be awfully friendly with this woman,” she hissed under her breath.

“What do you mean? I don’t even remember her,” He replied, confused.

“Well, she seems to remember you.”

“Here you are, Teacherman.” Dr. Gobblegirl’s voice cut through their acrimony.

She handed him a laminated ID card with his name, position, photo, and a barcode written on it. “This will get you access to all of the buildings,” She added.

“Thank you.” He said, pocketing the card. “One last question. Did I keep all of my data in the lab?”

“I can’t speak for you, Teacherman, but it’s University policy to keep an offsite backup in the C block in case of accidents.”

“And which way is that?”

She pointed to the set of double doors. “Through those doors in the courtyard, then it’s your second building on the left.”

“Thank you again. Come, ladies.”

They gathered their bags and exited through the doors. As they entered the courtyard Teacherman turned to BabyFriday. “Listen, I’m sorry,” He began, but she interrupted. “No, I’m sorry. I just forget that your memory is mostly gone sometimes.”

“Would you mind if we stopped in the backup room?” He asked. “Maybe seeing my old research will help jog my memory.”

BabyFriday turned to The Kelburrows, who shrugged.

“I don’t see why not,” She replied.

Teacherman scanned his card at the front entrance. The door clicked open and they stepped through. In front of them was a long, carpeted hallway. Along the sides were various doors with labels of the projects and their lead researcher. A third of the way down on the left was a door. They stopped in front of it. It read: Project Omega, Lead Researcher: Teacherman. He raised his key card. Suddenly there was a loud click behind them. They turned to see the door they had entered through standing ajar. Standing in silhouette was a figure. He was holding a gun.

“Hold it right there,” His voice bellowed.

He began to move forward slowly. As he stepped into the light, BabyFriday , Teacherman, and The Kelburrows let out a gasp. This was the last person they ever expected to see.

7 comments:

  1. Principal Enchman's friendMarch 9, 2011 at 1:39 PM

    Well, I've known Principal Enchman all my life and I can tell you for a fact that if theres a battle to wage he will not just stay in the car. He's not coward, in fact he's the greatest human being I've ever known. Just sayin'.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Principal EnchmanMarch 9, 2011 at 1:42 PM

    I'm sorry, ignore my friend. He gets a bit zealous in his love and admiration for me and my greatness. Anyways, great job Lawblog! I hope this lasts for 150 seasons like General Hospital.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh how I hope my character gets to beat someone in the last episode of the season. What's the point in all the weight training and cardio if I don't get to break a few noses along the way?

    ReplyDelete
  4. I think Duncan is my favorite character.

    “My name is Sergeant Duncan of the Royal Lorry Force.” - Greatness

    ReplyDelete
  5. Seriously, I am dying to know what happens next!

    ReplyDelete