Friday, June 30, 2006

Episode 6: A Scenic View -- of Doom

It was a hot day when Squatch finally tracked down Jimmie "The Claw," who was, from the looks of it, about to finish off Squatch's partner, Soda.

Real hot. The kind of hot that makes you want to dig a hole in the backyard and hide until the relentless sun goes down.

In this blistering heat, Soda struggled with the duct tape that held him. Squatch couldn't understand the muffled words coming out of his partner's mouth, but he knew that he had to keep the Claw distracted if Soda was to have a chance.

Squatchy stared down The Claw. He was the only thing standing between Squatch and today's afternoon rerun of Sanford and Son. Would this be the week that Fred Sanford found true happiness? Would Lamont finally make his father happy? The suspense was killing him.

"Hey Cop," The Claw hissed back at Squatch. "Word on the street is you got a thing for the jokes. I got one for you that's gonna just kill ya. Goes like this: knock knock..."

Squatchy stared at The Claw through a medicinal haze. He knew that he was supposed to respond with a clever rejoinder, but one did not leap to mind.

"Cop, are you all right there? You look ready to fall over. I'll make it quick then.

Knock. Knock."

The familiar setup was met with silence as Squatch glared at The Claw with his patented "Perp Stare."

A few awkward seconds later, The Claw decided to finish the joke himself by reading both parties' lines.

"Who's there?"
"Your partner."

As The Claw recited his joke, Squatch saw Soda stretching one of his pseudopods until it was behind the Claw's feet.

"Your partner who?"
"Your partner who just died because he didn't listen to - arrrgh!!!!"

While Jimmie was delivering a punchline that Squatch had no desire to hear, Soda extended his blobby foot between The Claw's rear feet and, as a just dessert for his partner's grisly fate, flipped The Claw off of the railing.

The Claw plummeted, screaming, into the foul-smelling drink below.

The buzzing of locusts covered the silence after his fall. Squatch quickly retrieved Soda from the edge of the observation deck and placed him safely on the ground.

"Great work, Squatch. I knew you'd make it. Now listen, we gotta move. This guy is working for a new boss in town - a guy he kept referring to as "Mr. S." Apparently this guy has a real appetite for trouble. And this water plant is involved, too."

Squatch listened anxiously, but Quincy Jones' infectious theme of Sanford and Son was playing in his mind.

Soda shrugged, exasperated. "Fine - we'll get over to Louie's and watch your stupid show. Come on - I'll report to The Captain on the way."

As they walked off, a coppery claw slid up and over the edge of the railing.

A steely expression was on the face that followed that claw over the edge of the railing. Two beady eyes burned with rage as they watched Squatch and Soda round the corner.

Across town, a rat was leading a canine hydrologist into a dark alley for an important rendezvous.

"Hey boss, here's that water doctor you wanted me to find."

A sinister figure emerged from the shadows and raised a gloved fist into the air.

"Brilliant. Excellent work, Cecil. Let's get the HYDRA in place and put her to work."

Zelda McFey glared at the criminal before her. "Where's my husband, you monster? I won't help you!"

"My dear, you have no choice in the matter. In fact, if your husband were here, I'm sure he'd tell you the same. Too bad he wouldn't cooperate sooner. Things might have turned out differently for both of you. Cecil, take her away."



Post a Comment

<< Home