Gums of Our Lives: Episode 16: Season 1 Finale

After the jump, the conclusion to Season 1 of "Gums of Our Lives"
“Let me repeat. Y’all are trespassin’.”
Mountains Beyond Mountains stared at the two women lying captive on the floor. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
“We’re sorry?” Briadru4 shrugged. “It was not our intention to trespass on anyone’s property.”
“Then what you doin’ out in my woods and eatin’ my fruit baskets?”
“Again, we’re really sorry about that,” Briadru4 gestured her head to Thisismynightmare. “Some of us ignored warnings from other ones of us to not eat the food.”
“I don’t deal in hypotheticals, young lady. Tell me what went down.”
So Briadru4 told her the story of what “went down,” from drinking with the Super Exclusive Best Friends Club to the return of Teacherman to their capture by and subsequent escape from the Winbot, ending with their second incarceration by Mountains Beyond Mountains and her gang. The entire time, Mountains Beyond Mountains sat there, unmoving, occasionally interjecting with a question of clarification. When the story was finished she called over Fozzy the Chair and Dusky Panther. They conferred briefly and inaudibly before coming to what seemed to be a consensus.

Gums of Our Lives: Season 1 recap

Don’t you hate it when you’re waiting for the season finale of a show but instead they do a recap episode? BOOM!

The story begins in the house of Thisismynightmare and The Narrator, the former of whom is unhappy in her marriage because the latter spends all of his time in his basement laboratory after he was dismissed from the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology. She decides to leave him for her eflirt, Just Desserts, at the urging of her therapist, Dr. Principal Enchman.

On the way out of the house she gets a phone call from her sister, Baby Friday, who informs her that her husband, Teacherman, was at the University when there was an explosion, and now she can’t find him. Thisismynightmare decides not to go to Just Desserts, but rather visit her sister. They go to the police station, where Detective Werttrew shows them the remains of Teacherman’s trademark tweed jacket. They are sad.

Meanwhile, in the basement laboratory, The Narrator is finishing work on his most diabolical creation yet: The Winbot. He goes to tell his wife, but finds her missing. In response he unleashes the Winbot to find and troll her.

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.

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 14

This was the second time in the last two hours that Briadru4 and Thisismynightmare found themselves being forcibly taken to a destination that they had not intended to go to. In this instance they were being dragged along the ground in a large rope net; a considerable step down from the relatively luxurious rape van. Briadru4 began to take stock of the situation. They were most definitely trapped. Even if their captors stopped to take a rest they would still have the several hundred pound rope net to contend with, not to mention the fact that those aforementioned captors seemed remarkably comfortable with pulling two squirming women along the forest floor, even despite their handicap of having no opposable thumbs. Resigning herself to dealing with their situation when they reached their destination, she tried to wiggle herself into a comfortable wedge.

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 13

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

As the seconds counted down to their demise, Agent Cakeordeath couldn’t help but find the metronomic sound of their impending doom to be strangely hypnotic. She stared at the flashing red numbers, watching them change in rhythm.

“Snap out of it, Cake!”

Agent Huckabeast shook her out of her trance.

“We need a plan! Stat!”

“Oh, right. Uh. Let’s see…”

She began to go over the device.

“Ok, so, we have a dead man’s trigger with no reversies double tapsies, a pressure switch with extra doohickeys, and enough C4 to blow us into a brunoise.”

“What’s a brunoise?” Dr. Principal Enchman asked.

“It’s a cooking term. It means 1/8^th inch by 1/8^th inch dice.”

“Guys!” Agent Huckabeast interrupted. “We only have twenty-five seconds. We need to figure out something or we’re going to die!”

Agent Cakeordeath stood up.

“Well,” She began. “I can’t disarm it. Not in the time we have. Our only choice is to run.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 12

“So… do we have a plan?”

A Serious Monster was getting antsy. It had been several hours since she first made contact with the Hybrids, and all they had done up to this point was fiddle with dials and make horrible puns.

“Calm down, ok? We’re formulating a flan.” Facetaco said, glancing up from one of the computers.

“Mmmm. Delicious flan.” Polythene Pam piped up from behind a stack of equipment.

“Bleep Bloop flan plan.” R2D2 Esq. shimmied.

“Seriously. These puns are getting really annoying.” A Serious Monster angrily interjected.

“Sorry. We can’t help it,” Facetaco shrugged. “It’s a side effect of the hybridization process.”

Girl Philosopher nodded. “It’s markedly worse when we’re around other hybrids. Usually we can control it by ourselves. David Hume!”

A Serious Monster had to stifle her vomit.

“Hey. Be careful there, Retch Armstrong,” Facetaco called out.

“Yeah, Little Retchard” Polythene Pam chimed in.

“Bloop Blorp Puke Skywalker.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 11

Deep underground, beneath the headquarters of The Agency, Chris Trash was trying to entertain his hostages.

“Hey, now, buckaroos. Don’t you be being all sad with the sour pusses. Agent Cakeordeath will be returning very soon with my chip, and you all can be on your merry ways.”

Agent Huckabeast spat on the ground.

“She’ll never give you the chip, Trash. No matter what you do to us.”

Chris Trash laughed.

“My friend, I am hoping for your sake that you are being wrong. If she is not back in twenty minutes, you are all going to be dead people.”

From the back of the group there was a collective shuffling as Duncan cleared his throat.

“Oh, dear. That won’t do, old sport. You see, I rather enjoy living, and would be ever so put out if I were to no longer be doing so,” he stammered.

Dr. Principal Enchman began to nod furiously in agreement and Capu Flapu began to rock from side to side in distress. Chris Trash fired his gun into the air, silencing them.

“My friends, it is no use worrying about how will be of the killing of who. This is nonsense talk, is what this is. Let us have distraction, yes? Who likes ‘Would you rather?’?”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 10

Previously, on Gums of Our Lives:

“That’s what she said!” “Who ARE you?” What happened?” “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?????” “I work alone.” “Is it permanent, Dr. Doctor Girlfriend?” “Shut up.” “Oh, dear. This is a spot of bother.” “NOW!”

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

Before we continue with the story, it is necessary to explain a few things about the Winbot, and, in turn, his creator. When creating an artificial intelligence, one can program certain abilities to aid in its performance of its dedicated task. However, due to the aforementioned intelligence, the created often is able to learn new skills and abilities that its creator had never intended. In the case of the Winbot, he is actually quite skilled in many respects that The Narrator never envisioned. He is adept at pointing out hypocrisy. He has a preternatural ability to find racism and denounce it. His aesthetic sense, in particular, is more finely tuned than The Narrator could have dreamed. However, there are many basic skills that the Winbot never acquired by virtue of being created in a laboratory. One of those skills yet acquired is that of predicting human behavior. In the mind — if you can call it that — of the Winbot, humans behave in a very specific pattern. There is no concept of motivation behind their actions, other than basic wants: food, sleep, pretty girls, pogs. That is why, when he went to open the van doors, he was not prepared for the force generated by the kicking Briadru4 and Thisismynightmare.

The Winbot stumbled backwards, question marks flashing on his chest, as the two young women leapt out of the van. They stumbled on the gravel but quickly regained their footing.

“Quickly! This way!” Briadru4 shouted, grabbing Thisismynightmare’s arm and pulling her into the woods.

“Where are we going?” Thisismynightmare panted, out of breath.

“It doesn’t matter. Just away from here.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 9

Now with 60% less Paltrow upskirts!

As A Serious Monster followed Facetaco through the sewers she began to question the choices she had made in her life up to this point. Choices that lead to her following a man with a taco for a face through a sewer, trying to gather information to find the missing wife of a mad scientist. Perhaps I should have gone to law school, like my parents wanted she thought to herself.

Facetaco turned to her as he contined to lead the way. “You’re probably thinking that you should have gone to law school, like your parents wanted.”

“How did you know?” She asked, startled.

Facetaco laughed, a hoarse, bubbly, unpleasant noise. The laugh turned into a violent cough as he expectorated something that A Serious Monster hoped was refried beans.

“Because that’s what they all think.” He garbled, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Before A Serious Monster could say anything Facetaco held up his hand. “Yes. Before you say anything. There have been others. That is all I will say on the matter. Come with me.”

A Serious Monster stopped in her tracks.

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain at least something to me. Who are you? Why is your face a taco? What did The Narrator have to do with it?” she demanded.

Facetaco moved surprisingly quickly. Within a second he was in her face. His breath was warm and cheesy.

“You want to know?” He growled. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I used to be a man, like you. Well, not like you because you are a woman. I use ‘man’ as a short for human.”

“Why didn’t you just say ‘human’?”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 8

Speeding down the street on his motorcycle, Just Desserts was talking to Paper Street Soap Company through the earpiece he had set up for him. “So, Papes, any idea where I can find Thisismynightmare? She needs my protection.”

“That’s what she said!” Paper Street blurted out on the other line.

“Ugh. This is no time for games. Someone’s life is in danger! The Winbot came to my house looking for her. He’s not going to stop looking until he finds her!”

“Sorry, dude. You set me up perfectly. I couldn’t not say anything. Hold on a second. Let me see here…” He trailed off. Just Desserts heard the sound of typing through his monitor. After about fifteen seconds Paper Street got back on the line.

“Ok, so, this is what I was able to find. Apparently she has a sister who lives in the area. She could have gone to stay with her.”

“Perfect. Where is she?”

“192 Bangs St.”

Just Desserts swung his motorcycle around and gunned the engine towards Bangs street, hoping against hope that Thisismynightmare was there, and, if she was, that the Winbot hadn’t gotten there first.

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

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 7

Back in her office, A Serious Monster was poring over the research she had done on The Narrator while singing Kanye West’s “Monster.”

“Everybody know I’m A Serious Monster,” she rapped under her breath, and then smiled at how terribly clever her new lyrics were. She had been scouring the internet and making phone calls all day, and her eyes, neck, ears, wrists, and right shoulder were all dully throbbing. She reached into her desk and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. “Oh, hello, old friend,” she said, lovingly. “Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?” The bottle, unsurprisingly, said nothing.

“What’s that, Jameson? You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!”

The bottle remained steadfast in its resolution not to respond.

“Well, then,” A Serious Monster continued, “We’ll just see about that.”

She unscrewed the top and poured herself a glass.

“Heeeeeere’s A Serious Monster!” She said, downing it in one gulp. Suddenly, she was startled by the phone ringing. She picked it up.

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 6

Teacherman stumbled through the front door. He managed to cough a strangled “Help me,” as he collapsed into The Kelburrows’ arms. In response, she screamed. The other girls quickly ran to the entranceway. “What the hell is going on?” BabyFriday began to demand in the nicest way possible, but stopped as soon as she saw the tableau in front of her. “T—Teacherman?” She stammered, before fainting. Thisismynightmare and Briadru4 came in right behind her, screamed, and fainted.

Five minutes later The Kelburrows was able to revive everyone with the smelling salts she kept in her purse for just such emergencies. BabyFriday groggily opened her eyes. “What happened?’ She began. “I just had the craziest dream that Teacherman was still alive.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” responded The Kelburrows, “He’s in the living room.”

Gums Of Our Lives: Episode 5

Just Desserts pulled up in front of a dilapidated house on an otherwise barren road. He walked up the overgrown path and reached the front door. Above it read “1537.” He tried the bell, but heard no sound, so he knocked on the door. He heard shuffling and banging from deep within the house, then a series of large, imposing footsteps as they reached the door.

“What’s the password?” Growled a voice from behind.

“Kisses and Lyes,” replied Just Desserts.

A series of bolts were unlocked and the door swung open.

“Just Desserts,” the man behind the door stated.

“Paper Street Soap Company.”

Paper Street stepped out of the shadows and offered his hand. Just Desserts took it and smiled.

“It’s good to see you, you enormous blue-haired Kurt Vonnegut-looking motherfucker.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you too. Come on in.”

They entered the foyer, if you could call it that. Paper Street turned to him.

“So what brings you to my humble abode?” He asked.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I’ve gotten mixed up in something crazy. I need to disappear for a while.”

“What’s her name?”

“How’d you know it was a girl?”

“With you, Just Desserts. It’s always a girl.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 4

As it seems like it always does during funerals, it was raining on the day of Teacherman’s. BabyFriday and Thisismynightmare huddled under an umbrella as the preacher stood in front of the gravesite. “Hello,” he began. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Father Mans. I have had the privilege of knowing Teacherman for many years. He was a brilliant scientist, a devoted husband, and a wonderful friend.” BabyFriday began to sob again as Thisismynightmare held her closer. Father Mans continued.

“Life, like everything in this world, is fleeting. We are born, we live, and like an unattended campfire, we burn out. In some cases we are not left until we become glowing embers, but rather extinguished in our full, raging prime. When we could still provide light. When we could still provide warmth. We are tempted to ask, ‘Why? Why would you pour sand on something that provided so much for so many?’ Instead we must remember that which is gone. Remember all that it was to all of us, and, in doing so, we retain just a little of that warmth and light.”

BabyFriday smiled faintly through her tears as the casket was lowered into the earth.

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

Just Desserts stared at the creature that was greeting him at the door. It was a seven-foot tall gleaming metal wolf man wearing a bow tie with a giant screen on its chest. It spoke, its voice a deep mechanical rumble. “Are you Just Desserts?” It asked.

“Who are you?” He responded, trembling.

“I am Jessica Alba. PSYCHE! Just kidding, friend. I am here to find Thisismynightmare.”

“She’s not here.”

“Are you sure because I am supposed to find her and pop a cap in her ass. Word bitches.”

“I haven’t seen her. I promise”

“You used the wrong ‘seen’ you said ‘scene’ when you meant ‘seen’ hahahahahah you are so dumb.”

“How can you tell from me speaking which homonym I’m using?”

“I am going to destroy you and it will be bloody like a back alley Bristol Palin abortion, you hypocrite!”

His metal arm glinted in the sun as it flashed towards Just Desserts. Fortunately for him, his reflexes were primed from his years of breakdancing. He quickly dropped to the floor, spun on his back, and kicked his leg out, catching the Winbot behind his knee. He howled out in pain, “???????????” flashing across the panel on his chest.

Just Desserts back-flipped onto his feet and slammed the door, locking it. He stood back, catching his breath, trying to think of what to do. Suddenly, a metal fist burst through the door. He could hear its voice from growling behind. “LOL you think you can beat me hahahaha what are you some kind of baby who was aborted hahahahaha. Racism is evil!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Backing away, Just Desserts turned and ran for the back door, taking out his cellphone and dialing as he did. The person on the other end picked up as Just Desserts exited his house, most likely for the last time. “Hey, it’s me,” he said, breathlessly. “I’m in trouble. I need your expertise. You still at 1537?… Good. That’s ten minutes away. I’ll be there in nine minutes and fifty-three seconds.” He ran into his garage, jumped onto his motorcycle, and sped away, taking one last long, mournful look at his house.

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

Dr. Principal Enchman stood and stared at the two people in front of him. “Wait a minute,” he said, slowly. “You two were in the park earlier. On the bench.” The monster and the Norma Shearer looked at each other, then back at Dr. Principal Enchman. The blue monster spoke.

“That is correct. We’ve had our eye on you for some time. Forgive me. Let me introduce myself.” He offered his hand. “My name is Agent Huckabeast, and this is my partner, Agent Cakeordeath.” She stuck out her hand as well. Dr. Prinicipal Enchman shook both, hesitatingly.

“What agency are you with?” he asked.

“The Agency.” Agent Cakeordeath responded with an air of finality that the doctor was wise to adhere to.

“We are here because we have information.” Agent Huckabeast began, but was quickly stopped by Agent Cakeordeath.

“How much do you know about The Narrator?” She interrupted.

“I mean, some. But you know I can’t say anything. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“We are aware of the law, Dr. Principal Enchman,” Agent Cakeordeath brusquely replied.

“Then you know I can’t tell you anything.”

“What if we were to offer you information in exchange? Information you were looking for?” Agent Huckabeast responded.

“Nothing you have could be worth me potentially losing my license.”

“What about information about her?” Agent Cakeordeath asked, mysteriously.

Dr. Principal Enchman stopped dead in his tracks.

“What do you mean, her?”

“You know exactly who we mean,” Agent Cakeordeath continued. “What if we were to tell you that not only is she still alive, but we know where we can find her.”

“That’s impossible! I watched her die!”

“Are you sure?” Agent Cakeordeath gestured to Agent Huckabeast, who pulled out a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Dr. Principal Enchman.

“This was taken two days ago.”

Dr. Principal Enchman opened the folder, his hands trembling. There she was, sitting in a café, two knitting needles busy in her hands, the sunlight reflecting off of her horn-rimmed glasses. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“This is fake and gay. It has to be!”

“I can assure you that it is real and most definitely not gay. Now, can we count on your coöperation?”

“You tell me where she is,” Dr. Principal Enchman began, “and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 3

This episode is brought to you by Fallout: New Vegas

Just Desserts was blasting Tag Team as he worked, readying his apartment. Thisismynightmare was coming! Everything must be perfect. His couch was freshly fluffed and his argyle cardigan freshly ironed. Adjusting his sunglasses in the mirror he smiled to himself. “Party people! Yeeeeeeeah!” he shouted to the heavens. He looked down at his watch. He still had half an hour. Plenty of time to play some “Fallout: New Vegas.”

An hour later Just Desserts looked at his watch again. “Oh no,” he thought. “I’ve been playing this amazing follow-up to IGN’s 2008 Game of the year for so long I’ve lost track of time! If only the open world wasn’t so limitless for exploration! If only the first person shooter action wasn’t so engrossing! But wait. Where is Thisismynightmare? She should be here by now.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Just Desserts jumped up with a start. He ran over to the mirror, adjusted his dreads, sprayed some banaca in his mouth, and went to answer it. Taking a deep breath he swung open the door. “Hey, Thisismynightmare. Fancy seeing you he—“ But it wasn’t Thisismynightmare. It was something worse. A lot worse.

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

BabyFriday opened her front door, her face stained with tears. “Sister,” she cried, “Thank you for coming.” She fell weeping into Thisismynightmare’s arms. “Still no word about your husband?” Thisismynightmare asked. “No. Nothing,” she replied. “It’s been eighteen hours with nothing. I’ve called the police every thirty minutes demanding answers, but they won’t give me any.”

“It’s ok. I’m here now. Let’s go inside.”

They stumbled into the apartment, nearly tripping over a dog skeleton. Thisismynightmare always wondered why they kept that by the front door, but now was not the time to ask questions. “I began to worry late last night,” BabyFriday began. “We have a standing date every Thursday night to play ‘Fallout: New Vegas.’ It’s his favorite game and he never misses an opportunity to play. He was two hours late and I hadn’t heard anything, so I turned on the news, and then… then I saw…” She burst into tears. “It’s ok,” Thisismynightmare comforted. “We’ll hear something soon.”

As if on cue, the phone rang. BabyFriday ran over and answered. She was silent for an interminable amount of time. Finally she said, “Ok. I’ll be right down.” She hung up the phone. “They found something. They need me to go down to the police station.”

“I’ll drive,” said Thisismynightmare.

They arrived at the police station and were greeted by a detective. “Hello,” he greeted them, “I’m detective Werttrew. I’ve been assigned to your husband’s case. Will you come with me, please?” He led them into a small room, and laid out a series of evidence bags on the table. “I understand this must be hard for you. But can you please tell me if you recognize any of these items?”

BabyFriday slowly passed her eyes over the table, hoping against hope that she would not recognize anything. Suddenly her eyes came to a stop on a large bag. She collapsed to the ground. “Nooooo!” She screamed, clutching the bag. In it was a charred tweed sports coat with leather patches on the elbows.

***********

A Serious Monster stared at the RSS feed on her computer. “Explosion at the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology,” read the headlines on her news aggregator. “Note to self,” she thought, “Look into possible connections between the explosion and the rash of missing people.” “Actually,” she continued, “I should probably actually write a note because otherwise I may not remember.” Digging out her notebook, she scrawled it down. Above it was her previous note. “Check into The Narrator re: Thisismynightmare’s disappearance.” “Wow,” she thought, “Good thing I wrote this stuff down. I really need to cut down on my drinking. Note to self. Cut down on drinking.” As she began to write that down she saw that she had already written it, several times. “Oh well. Fourth time’s a charm.”

She began to comb through everything she could find on The Narrator. His graduation from the top of his class in the field of Commenting Science. His immediate acceptance as a tenured professor at the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology, and his subsequent dismissal after a horrible accident in his lab. The details were sketchy, but apparently he had tried to create some sort of hybrid commenter with disastrous results, and a nuclear meltdown was narrowly averted. “Wow,” thought A Serious Monster, “that reminds me. I gotta go play some Fallout: New Vegas.”

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

Dr. Principal Enchman arrived back at his office. His secretary greeted him. “Welcome BACK. YOU have TWO people WAITING FOR you,”

“I thought I told you to cancel my appointments, An American Patriot.”

“I TOLD them you WOULDN’T BE in UNTIL later, but they INSISTED THEY would WAIT.”

Two people stood up behind him. “Dr. Principal Enchman,” one of them started. He spun around and saw a giant blue monster and Norma Shearer. He was about to speak when the monster held up his hand.

“Dr. Principal Enchman. We need to talk.”

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 2

It was 3:00 and Doctor Principal Enchman was beginning to worry. Thisismynightmare was supposed to be there for her appointment over two hours ago. He had tried her phone several times, but it went straight to voicemail. “Something’s wrong,” he thought to himself. “Thisismynightmare is never late without calling first.” He pressed the intercom on his desk.

“An American Patriot. I need you to cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon.”

“BUT sir, YOU are BOOKED SOLID for the NEXT three HOURS. What WILL I tell THEM?”

“Tell them I fell ill. I have work to do.”

He picked up the phone and dialed. “It’s me,” he said to the voice on the other line. “I have a case for you.” He grabbed his scarf and his man purse and closed the door to his office behind him. If he knew anything about The Narrator and his temper, he knew that time was not his friend.

Hurrying down the street he passed a young couple picnicking on a park bench. The woman, a dead ringer for Norma Shearer as Marie Antoinette, laughed as she wiped cookie crumbs off of his blue, furry face. “Young love,” thought Dr. Principal Enchman. “Is there anything more pure?” He stood there, lost for a moment in his own memories. Taken back to that magical summer day and that first meeting with Her. Her laugh. Her smile. The caress of her hand. And then, that fateful day when it all went wrong. He had to quickly shake his head. “I have to keep moving. Thisismynightmare needs me.”

He arrived at a nondescript office building and pressed the elevator button for the 20^th floor. “I hope I’m not too late already,” he fretted as he ascended. Arriving at the floor, he quickly made his way down the hall, arriving at #2012. The plaque on the door said, in peeling letters, “A Serious Monster: Private Detective.” Dr. Principal Enchman took a deep breath, steeled himself, opened the door, and quickly ducked as a bottle of Jameson flew over his head and smashed on the wall behind him.

“Sorry,” a voice growled from behind the desk. “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s me, Monster. Dr. Principal Enchman. I called you earlier.”

“Right. Right. Sorry.”

“Who did you think I was?”

“Pizza guy.”

Dr. Principal Enchman thought of a million follow-up questions he would have loved to ask, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“A Serious Monster. I need your help. I have a patient who I believe is in trouble. I need you to find her.”

A Serious Monster turned her chair to face him. Her face bore the scars of a thousand years of living done over a two-week vacation to St. Vincent and the Grenadines. She took a drag from a cigarette and exhaled slowly.

“Why do you care so much about a patient?” She asked.

“She… She reminds me of someone I knew once… long ago.” He started to drift off, but then quickly shook his head. “It’s not important!” He snapped. “Can you find her?”

She took another deep drag.

“Seems to be a lot of missing people in these parts.” She exhaled. “I got a case looking for this smurf guy not two days ago. Not to mention that Marine that went AWOL a couple of weeks back.”

She stared at Dr. Principal Enchman, sizing him up. He looked back at her, pleading.

“Will you take it? I can’t go to the cops because she hasn’t been missing long enough, and I’m afraid that if I wait any longer she could be dead. Please help me, A Serious Monster. You’re my only hope.”

After the longest of pauses she nodded in assent.

“I’ll take your case. But on one condition… You pay me money.”

“Of course. What else would I pay you with?”

“Nothing. Forget about it. I’ll take the case.”

Dr. Princial Enchman handed over a picture of Thisismynightmare, thanked her, and left. A Serious Monster surveyed the photo. “Another missing person,” she mused, “And a pretty one at that. Oh, A Serious Monster, what have you gotten yourself into?”

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

As Thisismynightmare drove she began to worry. She kept glancing at her phone as the missed calls began to pile up. “I wonder if I should have let Dr. Principal Enchman know. He’ll be worried.” She thought to herself. “Maybe I’ll call him.” She picked up the phone but quickly stopped herself. “He’ll just try to talk me out of it,” she reasoned. As she was setting it down, it began to ring. It was her sister. She answered.

“Baby Friday! I have big news!” she hurriedly exclaimed

“I have bigger news!” She rushed, breathlessly. “It’s my husband, Teacherman. Something’s happened!”

“What? Is he ok?”

“I don’t know. There was an explosion in his lab at the University. Nobody knows what happened. I need you here. Can you come?”

Thisismynightmare paused. Her freedom with Just Desserts lay ahead. Her ailing sister lay behind.

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” She said, and hung up her phone.

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

The Narrator sat in his living room watching the news. A breaking report flashed on the bottom of the screen. “Giant Explosion at the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology. Dozens Missing, Presumed Dead.” He smiled to himself. The first mission of the Winbot was a success.

Gums of Our Lives: Episode 1

By popular demand, I present to you: "Gums of Our Lives"

It was a cold December night, and The Narrator was busy in his laboratory. He laughed to himself as he bent over his machine. “Reckless?” he cackled to himself. “Irresponsible? I’ll show them reckless and irresponsible!” He wiped the fevered sweat from his brow as he checked the time. “Only minutes left, my pretty, and the world will truly know my greatness!”

Meanwhile, across town, his wife, Thisismynightmare, was on the phone with her psychologist. “I just don’t know what to do, Dr. Principal Enchman,” she cried into the phone. “Ever since he was fired by the University of Internet Science and Blog Technology he’s been so cold. So distant. He hardly ever comments, and I’m embarrassed to tell you the last time we tweeted together. He can barely even look at me.”

“Have you considered started a hashtag game?” Dr. Principal Enchman replied

“I have! I’ve tried everything! #sexymovies #peenmovies #ryangoslingmovies. Nothing works!”

“This seems very serious, indeed. Come to my office tomorrow and we will try to work through this.”

She thanked him and hung up the phone. Staring out of the window she wondered to herself, “Is this all there is?”

Suddenly she was startled by a phone ringing. She picked it up.

“Dr. Principal Enchman?” She asked.

“No. It’s Just Desserts.”

Her heart soared. Just Desserts. The very name set her world on fire.

“Oh, hi, JD, what’s up?” She stammered, trying to remain calm.

“Nothing much. Just checking in to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, I’m fine… fine…” She choked back tears.

“Are you sure? Do you need to listen to ‘Party People’?”

That was the final straw. Before she knew what she was doing she broke down and told him everything. The firing, the strange laboratory in the basement, her ennui. Everything. “I just don’t know what to do anymore! I have nowhere to go! I have nothing” she finally sobbed as she finished.

The line was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Finally,

“Pack your things. You’re coming to stay with me.” He stated with authority.

“What do you mean? I can’t just leave everything behind. You don’t know The Narrator! You don’t know what he’s like!”

“I can provide for you. And I will protect you. Trust me. The safest place you could be right now is Casa de JD. Just go now!”

Thisismynightmare hung up the phone and stared at the receiver. “Am I crazy enough to do this?” She thought to herself.

Half an hour later The Narrator emerged from his lab, a maniacal gleam in his eye. “Honey!” He called. “Come downstairs! It’s finally finished!” There was no response. “Hey! Honey!” He called again. Still nothing. “Thisismynightmare! Are you sleeping?” He began to climb the stairs. “I have something important to show you! Wake up!” He reached the bedroom and opened the door.

The bedroom was empty, save a note on the bed. He picked it up, his hands shaking.

“Dear The Narrator. I am sorry that it has to be like this, but I’m leaving you to be with Just Desserts. He just knows how to treat a lady. Also he’s a snappy dresser and does an amazing Stefon impression. Your wife, Thisismynightmare.”

He crushed the note in his hands and howled to the ceiling. “THISISMYNIGHTMARE! WHYYYYYYYY?!?!?!” Suddenly, his eyes lit up. “Yes” he said to himself. “Yes. That would be perfect!” He cackled aloud as he raced down to his laboratory. “Oh this is too perfect. Just Desserts, you have no idea what you’re in for.”

He busted open the door and ran over to his machine, throwing off the protective dust cover. “You wanted to play? We can play!” he screamed as he threw the power switch.

A loud mechanical whirr filled the room as The Narrator rubbed his hands together. Slowly, the beast started to move, both arms slowly rising and falling, it’s mouth opening and closing, revealing its razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. Its eyes lit up as it surveyed the room.

“Yes! Yes! I have created life!” The Narrator crowed.

The machine stood up and began to slowly move around the room. The narrator jumped in front of it.

“Hello, my friend. I am The Narrator. I created you. Do you know what that means?”

The beast nodded.

“Good. Good. You were created for a purpose. Do you know what that is?”

The beast nodded again. “To be the world’s greatest troll.” It mechanically intoned.

“Yes. Yes. Exactly. I need you to do something for me. I need you to troll this woman. Can you do that for me?” He asked, holding up a picture of Thisismynightmare.

The beast studied the picture closely. He turned to The Narrator and nodded, saying only one thing.

“She’s pretty.”