ClockMails #31 & #32: "Catch that Cheat!" and "This is Halloween?!"

[RClock]

Heaven help the BHZ. Look who's making e-mail threads now!

THE POSSE:

RCLOCK

RClock looks like a Poopsmith and dresses conservatively, Roots hooded sweatshirt and all. He's some kind of crazy genius, or maybe just some kind of crazy. He can be smart one minute and totally oblivious the next. You can never tell with that guy. Who knows what wacky misadventures he will get into next?

CHOCOLATEMETAL

ChocolateMetal, like her name, is full of dualities. Although she is generally very sweet and friendly, watch your back if you get her angry. She also can go from being practical and reasonable to giddy and flutter-headed at a moment's notice. Choco, as her friends call her, is a fluffy little Cheatling with one tooth and the curious ability to hover under her own power. She's about as three-dimensional as a ClockMails character gets.

THE CHORT

Poor The Chort tries to be the voice of reason in the group, and considering who he's teamed up with, you can't blame him for being more than a little grumpy. The Chort is from Texas, but his accent was lost in a bizarre accident that inspired a Hallmark movie of the week. The Chort also carries a glowstick, which has more uses than you'd think. Despite his shortness and occasional sarcasm, The Chort is a nice guy. At least that's what he tells the ladies.

"KRAZY" IVAN

A former master spy, Ivan has successfully broken free from his psychotic second personality and has dedicated his life to protect the very people he was trying to destroy. Whether or not he can skillfully use his various devices properly remains to be seen. For a schizoid, Ivan can be awfully single-minded.

SKINNY BLONDE GIRL

Everybody's favourite red-head. Go figure. Skinny Blonde Girl has some sort of undefined relationship with The Chort. They'd be a great couple if you could keep the blunt objects away from them. Blondie is actually a nice girl. She just gets preoccupied. A lot. She can also be a bit violent when you rouse her Irish temper, which is funny since she's not Irish. Once again, go figure.

VANILLAPLASTIC I'm not sure exactly what this thing is, but suffice it to say she's the evil opposite of ChocolateMetal. With vaguely-defined supernatural powers and the ability to speak in badly-written monologues, VanillaPlastic will not be satisfied until she has destroyed the ClockMail crew. She really needs a new hobby.

THE SNEAK

VanillaPlastic's eager assistant. His devotion is matched only by his bizarre crush on his charge, which VanillaPlastic callously ignores. While The Sneak is generally content to stand back and bemusedly watch life go by, he is very vicious when need be. Careful. I don't think he's had all his shots.

CAMEOS

Just about anybody! With at least one cameo per e-mail, you're bound to show up sooner or later!

So shoot a PM my way, and you could see your name in lights! This could potentially be awesome!



The choice is yours...

[Hammer_Of_God1]

Ooh! The best writer on the forum is going to start an email thread! This is gonna be goo-ood!

*coughcoughhammermailscameocoughcpugh*

[ChocolateMetal]

At last! Now, what on earth will I send you?  ???

[RClock]

*The trio are hanging out on a large couch, not doing much of anything.*

CM: So then I said, "Have you tried sandpaper?"

*All three laugh heartily.*

RC: Well, I'll be back in a while, guys. I have to go check my e-mail.

TC: Since when do you check e-mail?

RC: Well, I start today.

CM: Aww, isn't that nice? He's starting to apply himself! He's getting so grown up. I'm so proud.

RC: Yep, I'm stepping out into the world!

*He exits.*

TC: He's taking five minutes out of his day to read somebody's e-mail.

CM: Yes, but it's a nice start.

TC: Doing his own laundry would be a better start.

*RClock walks by a potted plant. Ivan pokes his head out.*

Ivan: Ah! So Komrade Klock thinks he can elude the great Ivan, does he? Nothing escapes mine eyes! Night vision goggles activated!

*He switches on the goggles. We hear a loud ZZZZUM.*

Ivan: OW! Mine eyes! Mine expensive eyes!

*He pulls off the goggles. His eyes are glowing bright green. He pulls out a tape recorder, turns it on and speaks into it.*

Ivan: Note to self: refrain from the wearing of the night-vision goggles during the daytime. Oh, no matter. I need not mine eyes! Mine flawless sense of direction will be mine guide.

*He steps forward and trips over the potted plant.*

*Meanwhile, RClock is sitting at a computer.*

RC: All right, Mister E-mail. What tricks do you have in your candy-like store today?

--
Hey yo mr. clock.

What does the R in RClock stand for? Is it some code for your secret power or something?

Thanks,

Sticky Man
--

RC: Sticky Man? Weren't you one of the bad guys from that old Batman TV show? And you're asking ME about super powers? You got to be on TV with Adam West! And Julie Newmar! Ah... Julie Newmar...

*AHEM*

But, onto the question. The first question is rather simple. As some of you probably know, the R in RClock stands for R...

BrutalMouse: Uh, I hate to interrupt...

RC: Huh?

BM: I found this egg in the couch and I was wondering...

RC: Hey, we're not playing this way, you hear? We're gonna be original!

BM: Oh. Sorry.

RC: Now, as I was saying, the R actually stands for Rocky. And that's a whole story unto itself. Into itself? Something like that. Take a trip with me back to my Wonder Years...

*Cue flashback. Grainy home movie footage plays, "With a Little Help From My Friends" on the soundtrack*

RC: Thus named because it's a wonder I survived. Hey, see that kid with the glasses? He grew up to be a shock rocker!

Kid: No I didn't!

RC: Shut up, Paul. Anyway, the year was 2000. People were doing the Macarena, and I wasn't doing much of anything.

*A young RClock slumps down at a computer*

RC: There I am. I was just 16 at the time.

YoungRC: 16 and a half!

RC: Whatever. Anyway, I was never a popular person. Mostly kept to myself, didn't really have any friends...

YoungRC: What about Dawn?

RC: Oh, like you had a chance with her at all!

YoungRC: Hey, it's a possibility!

RC: Trust me, kid. The sooner you get over her, the better.

YoungRC: Geez, am I really going to be that bitter when I'm your age?

RC: Just move on, okay?

YoungRC: Oh, all right. Grandpa.

RC: Now, as I was saying, I had recently discovered the Internet and had decided to join my first forum. And I needed a name. Something to set me apart from the rest.

YoungRC: CoolDude82d? Doctor Typist? BIGMRG74? Glen? I don't want Mom to decide for me, like she did my e-mail address.

RC: I told you not to mention that! Anyway, just when I was ready to give up, inspiration came from the radio.

Radio: 1, 2, 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock rock! 5, 6, 7 o'clock, 8 o'clock rock! 9, 10, 11 o'clock, 12 o'clock rock! We're gonna rock around the clock tonight!

YoungRC: That's it!

*He types "Rocky Clock" in the name bar. End flashback.*

RC: So, that's where the name came from, and that's what the R stands for. I've been using that name ever since! And as for it being the code to my secret powers, I think not. The only power that name gives is the ability for people to remember old Bill Haley and the Comets songs.

*Meanwhile, Ivan has still been stumbling around half-blind. He is somewhere on the second floor near a window*

Ivan: Ah! Mine precise calculations tell me am close enough! Ready or not, here comes Ivan!

*He bolts forward, trips over an end table and soars out the window*

Ivan: Yeeeeargh!

*CRASH*

TC: What was that?

*CM looks out the window and sees Ivan thrashing around head-first in the birdbath*

CM: Oh, just another hippie bathing in our birdbath, like last week. (calling) Peace and love, brother!

*Back to RClock at the computer*

RC: But you know, I don't really go by "Rocky" much anymore. I dunno. It's a fine enough name, but, well, when some people hear it they...

Gir: Hey, Rocky!

RC: What? I'm in the middle of...

Gir: Watch me pull a rabbit out of this hat!

RC: Oh, ho ho. Very funny. Ha ha. Hee hee. It is to laugh.

Gir: Yeah, I thought it was pretty...

RC: Take off! I'm busy!

*Gir leaves, still giggling impishly.*

RC: As I was saying, the name Rocky just sets some people in a mindset that...

*Somebody taps his shoulder*

RC: Now what?

Hammer of God: C'mon, Balboa! I'll take you on, foo! C'mon, sucka! Gimme yer best shot!

RC: Hammerman, I told you already. I'm not that kind of Rocky!

HoG: Okay, sucka. I'ma lettin' you hide away like the chicken you are. But when you step into the ring again, I'll wear ya like a necklace, foo!

*HoG leaves*

RC: I think I'd better call his pharmacy tomorrow. Well, I guess that's it. Actually, all things considered, I don't think I did all that bad for my first e-mail. It was actually... rewarding in a way. Heck, I think I'll answer another!

--
Dear RClock,

What does the 'r' in RClock stand for? Could it be a clue to your secret identity or just a pointless consenent?

Curiously,
SBG
--

RC: Uh... on second thought, I think I'll call it a night. Sorry, SBG. TCB, PYT. OK?

*Ivan is crouched in the bushes*

Ivan: Well, Mr. Klock may have foiled mine undercovers mission, but mine listening device will tell Ivan what he was saying!

*He switches it on*

RC: Ssssshhhhhkkkkk.... secret powers... kkkkkssssshhh.... Haley... hsssssskksssh... Comets...

Ivan: Ah HA! Ivan triumphs again! Mr. Klock gets his secret powers from Halley's Comet!

*He looks up and sees Halley's Comet in the sky*

Ivan: Oh ho! Halley's Comet has arrive 67 years ahead of schedule! How remarkably convenient! Now Ivan will use his stellar matter attracter to ensure that the comet is mine and mine alone! And the I will have the secret powers!

*He turns on the machine. The comet turns around and heads toward Ivan*

Ivan: Ha ha! Now you belong to me, oh mystic shiny giver of secret powers!

*The comet blasts towards Ivan full force*

Ivan: No! Wait! Slow down! Ivan is not that excited to see you!

*The comet draws near*

Ivan: Oh, borsht...

*Meanwhile, RC is back at the couch*

RC: ...And he thinks he's Clubber Lang.

CM: Well, that's not so unusual. Remember last week when you thought you were a sponge?

RC: Well, that was just a phase I was in.

TC: We found you under the sink with caked-on lasagna all over your face.

*BOOM!*

TC: What was that?

*The three head for the window and see a massive ball of plasma burning in their backyard.*

RC: Wow! It's the northern lights!

CM: It's so beautiful!

TC: That's funny. I didn't know you could see the northern lights in the southeast.

RC: We are truly blessed.

Ivan: Nyyyaaaarrrrrghhhh!

*A flaming Ivan rockets from the heavens and crashes to the ground, creating an Ivan-shaped crater in the lawn.*

RC: Wow! And a meteor shower too? Somebody get the camera!

THE END
(Keep those PMs coming! I love 'em!)

[ChocolateMetal]

AAH! So great! We really should do a crossover...um, never mind, we're already in each other's email threads. As soon as Gir said "Hey, Rocky!" I KNEW he'd say "Watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!". Keep 'em coming, I'll send you something as soon as I can think of it...

[skinny_blonde_girl]

Haha! That was great! I almost wish you hadn't answered that email, you could've had yourself a new "how do you type with boxing gloves on" type question. Anyways, great job!

[The Chort]

Dude! I'm finally in an email thread! And I'm incredibly sarcastic and stuff! Cool! I'm going to have to send you a PM.

Also, the cameo thing is a great idea! It really sets your thread apart from all the other that I've read.

[RClock]

*Opening shot: tight closeup of RClock's face standing by a microphone*

RC: Okay! One, two, three, four!

*Funky rock music begins*

RC (singing, raw-edged): You've got platter full of fancy and a pocket full of sin,
Your fire's burning out, but your thunder's moving in,
There's a bowl full of soul on the edge of your table,
And your happy side is all bound up in coaxial cable...
It's a flatline!
It's a flatline!
It's a flatline on your side, and you know it the best,
Your standards of morality have cardiac arrest!
It's a flatline, baby, baby,
It's a...
No, no, wait, wait, wait. Stop, stop!

*The music stops*

RC: I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling that at all.

CM (playing the keyboard): What was wrong that time?

RC: Oh, nothing was wrong with you. You were great, you were beyond great, but that idiot on lead guitar is throwing the whole thing off!

TC (playing the drums with twin glowsticks): You're playing lead guitar!

*We pull back to see the band altogether. RClock is indeed playing lead guitar.*

RC: Well... technically yes, but... but the point is that we need to buckle down and keep at it! I mean, the Battle of the Bands is... when is it again?

TC (checking a calendar): Two days ago.

RC: And that leaves us without much time! We only have negative two days to get this right! Now, from the top! One, two, three!

*He plays two chords and then stops.*

RC: Okay, look. I'm sorry. I'm rockilly spent at the moment. I'm gonna go check my e-mail. Take five.

*He puts his gear down and walks off*

TC: He's flat.

CM: Hmm?

TC: He's flat. He wasn't hitting those notes. He wasn't even close. And he was just making stuff up on the guitar.

CM: Yeah, I know.

TC: Well, he's the frontman. Isn't it kind of important for the frontman to be... well... any good at all?

CM: He paid for all the instruments.

TC: Oh.

*Meanwhile, Ivan has the house staked out. He holds a small spray-bottle*

Ivan: Ha ha! Ivan does not give up in an easy way! Oh, no! Ivan keeps trying, and he learns! Tovarisk Klock will face the fury of... mine extra-strength pepper spray! Oh, how his eyes will cry!

*Something behind him makes a snuffling noise. Ivan spins around and sees The Sneak standing behind him*

Ivan: Eat burning irritant, interloper!

*Unfortunately, he holds the bottle the wrong way and sprays himself*

Ivan: OW! Again with the eyes! How they throb!

The Sneak: *snuffle snort*

Ivan: How dare you! Who do you think you are to sneak up on the great Ivan?

TS: *snort*

Ivan: Hey, wait! You have the ability to sneak up even on the great Ivan? Such sneakiness is scarce! Yes! YES! I can make use of one who is good with the sneakiness as you are! We shall join our forces! Mister Klock cannot possibly stand up to the sneakiness of the both of us! WE SHALL STEP ON HIM!!!

TS: *snort*

*Meanwhile, RClock sits at the computer*

RC: All right, already. Hit me with your best shot! I can take it.

--
Dear RClock,

Do you think that a giant pie monster could invade Sicily anytime so? If so, please explan how.

Sincerely,
Darkshadows86, Lord of Tape-Leg's Basement.
--

RC: Because, of course, we really need to distinguish between the dark shadows and, you know, those bright shiny shadows. Methinks this guy needs to get out of the basement every once in a while. But, an e-mail's an e-mail.

It seems that you think this is funny, Eyeshadow. Well, buddy, I can tell you that attacking pie monsters are not funny in the slightest. And I should know. I was there the last time it happened. Yeah, that's right. I'm a veteran. I don't like sharing my memories, but you should hear it from somebody who was there. I remember it like it was an awkwardly segued flashback.

*Cue said flashback*

RC (v.o.): The pie monster had arrived, and they needed all the help they could get. The Chort didn't have to go because he had bad heels.

TC (v.o.): I don't have any heels!

RC (v.o.): Exactly! Non-existant heels are the worst! And ChocolateMetal got exempted because they couldn't find her proof of Earth citizenship.

CM (v.o.): Immigration says that I officially don't exist. On the plus side, I don't have to pay taxes.

RC (v.o.): Which left me as the only one to be drafted. My memories are only fragments, really. The grim sense of duty as I read my conscription letter...

*RClock gets a letter in the mail. He reads it and faints dead away*

RC (v.o.): My resolve and determination as I left my home...

*RClock is grabbing onto the door jamb as two military guys pull his legs*

RC: NO! NO! NO! I DON'T WANNA GO! I DON'T WANNA!

RC (v.o.): The pride I salvaged through the humiliation of my physical examination...

Doctor: You haven't been flossing, have you?

*RClock bursts into tears*

RC (v.o.): But of course the worst was actually getting on that train, knowing full well that I could be saying goodbye to my friends for the last time.

*We see a train station. RClock is on a train, standing just within the doors. ChocolateMetal is standing on the stairs in front of the door. The Chort is standing at the bottom of the stairs. For some reason, they're all dressed in full Civil War-era costume.*

TC: Uh, I'll take those unwavering stares as an indication that you want me to leave you alone. Sure. I'll just go look at some... railroad magazines or something.

*He leaves*

RC: Now, don't you worry yo' pretty head none, Miss Chocolate. I'll be comin' back here right soon.

CM: Ah know. Don't seem right proper, though. Why yo' gotta go runnin' off to some silly ol' woah anyhow? Mah Daddy Cullpepper always done said that there ain't no problem in this world that cain't be settled with a garden party.

RC: Ah know that, sugarbelle. But them folks in charge are the ones what makes the rules 'round here, and I's gotta follow them.

CM: Ain't gonna be the same at the plantation from now on, ah reckon.

RC: Miss Chocolate, might I ask you something 'fore I leave?

CM: Yes, Clockford?

RC (accent dropping): Why are we speaking in these horrible, horrible southern accents?

CM (accent dropping): You got me. I was just trying to add to the mood.

RC: But anyway, I don't think it's fair to just leave like this. Here. I want you to have this.

*He reaches into his coat and pulls out a bottle full of glowing green liquid and hands it to her*

CM: What's this?

RC: ...I don't know.

*He throws the bottle away*

RC: Oh. You can have this instead.

*He removes the clock from around his neck and hands it to her*

CM: Your clock? But I can't take this!

RC: Sure you can have it. It doesn't work anyway.

CM: Oh. Thanks.

*The whistle sounds*

Conductor: All aboarrrrrrrrd!

RC: Well, I guess this is it...

CM: Yeah, I guess so...

RC: I'll really miss you...

CM: Yeah, I'll miss you too...

RC: Just want you to know...

CM: Yes, I know...

*They lean together, their eyes closing*

*SLAM!*

*RClock's head is suddenly caught when the doors slam shut. The train starts moving, his head still stuck between the doors.*

RC: Uh, goodbye, I guess.

CM: See you! Have a nice trip!

*She shakes the clock next to her ear, hearing the parts rattling inside.*

CM: Cheap piece of junk...

*The trains chugs along the track to its destination*

RC: Uh, excuse me? Could somebody kindly open these doors? Just for a second? I'm getting windburn over here! Mr. Conductor? Anybody?

RC (v.o.): That was the longest and most painful trip of my life. It was but a brief foretaste of what awaited me. I was stationed at Camp Mushy. That was where I met the man who would shape me into who the army wanted me to be; Gunnery Sergeant No-Neck. I could tell he had it out for me from the first day.

NN: Uh, you might want to tie your shoes, son. I don't want you tripping or anything.

RC (v.o.): It became a battle of wills between us. Somehow I don't know how I survived that constant torment.

*RClock is eating in the mess hall*

NN: Elbows off the table, son.

RC (v.o.): And those brutal physical labours that had me sore every night.

*RClock is sitting on his bunk*

NN: Better pick up those socks before somebody trips on them, son.

RC (v.o.): I have no idea how long I stayed in that nightmare. But one day we all packed up and were shipped out to Ground Zero. We were going to meet that pie face-to-face.

*RClock and several soldiers get off an airplane and stand in formation. Sergeant No-Neck addresses the troops*

NN: Today we will taste victory! And we will not be satisfied until we have our fill! I tell you, soldiers, we will feast on victory tonight!

*The soldiers cheer. RClock looks ready to pass out*

RC (v.o.): And as we marched over that rise to face our fate, I knew that I was changed forever. Gone was the callow youth who left home. I was now a callow man. With a gun.

[RClock]

NN: There it is, soldiers!

*There is a really big pie sitting on the ground*

RC: Should we set up a line of cover fire, sir?

NN: What are you talking about? It's a pie! Let's eat!

RC: What? But I thought that this was a pie monster!

NN: You've been reading the pulps too much, son. Pies can't become monsters! It's scientifically impossible!

RC: So why did we bring guns?

NN: Well, we might have a friendly game of skeet shooting later on.

RC: But... but... why get the army involved in this?

NN: Well, son, that looks like a pie big enough to feed an army. And we're just the army to do it! Right, men?

*All the soldiers, save RClock, pull out a fork*

Soldiers: This is my fork! There are many forks like it but this one is mine! I cannot eat the pie without my fork, and the fork cannot eat pie without me! Together my fork and I can eat any pie we see!

NN: Let's do it, men!

*The soldiers attack the pie with their forks. Gooey cherry filling is everywhere. RClock stands in horror.*

RC: I will not be a party to this.

*He turns to leave*

NN: What's your major malfunction, numbskull? Didn't your mommy and daddy ever feed you when...

*SPLAT!*

*RClock throws a hunk of pie at No-Neck's face. Everybody pauses and gasps. No-Neck lets the pie slowly run down his face.*

NN: PIE FIGHT!!!

*Suddenly everybody is throwing gobs of pie left and right. The whole area is covered with sticky red goodness*

RC (v.o.): I was like a man possessed. All of the training they had drilled into my head took over. The streets ran red that day, and I revelled in it. I finally returned to my sanity when the pie was totally destroyed. I looked at my red-stained hands and realized what I had done.

RC: Auuuughhhh!

*RClock passes out*

RC (v.o.): I woke up three weeks later in my own bed. I could have thought it a horrible nightmare, but the three medals pinned to my chest indicated otherwise. I don't display those medals. Despite the fact they were considered an honour to my supposed bravery and heroism, I don't want reminders of my rash actions. It's too painful. Plus, I wasn't wearing a shirt when they pinned them on me.

RC: EEEEEYOOOOOWWWWCH!

*Back to the computer*

RC: The horror... the horror. So as you can see, Shadowman, pie monsters are not to be taken lightly. They do things to people. I can only hope future generations don't have to live with what I saw that day. And as for the pie monster invading Sicily, that's no problem there. Ever been to a Sicilian wedding? Those things have more food than most developing nations! If the pie monster wandered too close he'd be gobbled up without anybody noticing, and there would still be more dessert on the way!

*Outside, Ivan is getting impatient*

Ivan: What could be taking that sneakily Sneak so long? Ivan is like time! He waits for no man!

*He doesn't notice Da Burninator standing directly behind him*

DB: Evening!

Ivan: YAAAAGGGGHHH!

DB: Pretty nice evening we've got our hands right about now, wouldn't ya say? Hey, I was just wondering if you had a garden hose or somesuch I could borrow, because I'm really...

Ivan: Eat peppery pain, foul beast!

*He sprays pepper at Da Burninator, the right way this time.*

DB: Hey, what's with the... ah... ah... ah.. AH CHOO!

*He sneezes, blowing away Ivan with a blast of flame*

DB: Oh, oh, oh! Oh, geez! I'm sorry! I got a bit of a sinus thing going on here. Oh, dandy. I hope you didn't get singed or anything back there...

*RClock heads back to the band*

RC: Okay, guys. I'm back. Let's get this party crackin'!

CM: Hey, um, RClock? We were talking over the break, and we...

TC: We got a new frontman.

RC: You did? Who?

TC: This guy.

*The Sneak is sitting up front with the guitar sitting in front of him*

RC: Him? What, you just picked somebody off the street?

CM: Actually, he came in through the window.

RC: Oh. That's different.

*The Sneak takes a bite out of the guitar and nonchalantly chews it*

RC: So, why wasn't I consulted?

TC: Well, it's like this...

CM: We wanted it to be a surprise!

RC: Aw, you guys know how much I love surprises! This is great! But... what do I do now?

TC: Well, actually, we were meaning to talk to you about that. We think that you should...

CM (interrupting): Play the glockenspiel!

RC: Really? I really can?

*The Chort glares. ChocolateMetal shrugs*

RC: Aw, this is too cool! How did you know that I have a passion for tinny instruments with hard-to-spell German names?

CM: Call it a wild hunch.

*RClock picks up the glockenspiel sticks*

RC: All right! The Clock is rockin' on the glocken! Lay it on me, Sneaker!

TS: *snort*

*Meanwhile, a flaming Ivan is soaring towards the power lines*

Ivan: Ah! Some kind soul has made a safety net! This is Ivan's lucky day!

*ZZZAP!*

*Back with the band*

RC: And one, two, three, and...

*The electricity suddenly goes out. Everything is black.*

RC: Aw, man! Oh, well. We'll just have to rock by candlelight, just like our pioneer ancestors! The Chort, you can see your music well enough with your glowsticks, right?

TC: Yeah, I guess so.

RC: And of course, I could play this glocken in my sleep!

*He butchers his way through the C scale*

TS: *snuffle*

RC: Okay! Who's got a request?

TC: Just one...

THE END

(artwork coming soon!)

[Strong_Lufis]

Man, Clockmaster. That was... uplifting. I don't think I could have answered it better. I really can't. I think I would've actually MADE a giant pie monster, but this was much funnier than anything mine would entail.

Except for...

PHM: Ummm... Commander?

Teatime: What?

PHM: I ate the monster.

Teatime: Gah! Now we'll have to airlift a new monster into the fray! Dangit, Pointy Hair Man, we don't have pie to waste here!

[ChocolateMetal]

Umm...what? This is called "Attack of the Scones!" I did not see one scone in here! I am thoroughly disappointed!

Okay, not really.

But I did love this email. Those corny accents were the best.

[The Chort]

I find it hilarious in all aspects of its emailness. I can't wait to see you explore the characters even more! I especially wanna see how The Chort progresses, and see the relationship between CM and RC.

[skinny_blonde_girl]

That was great! I mean I would write HAHA a million times but I think that would be breaking a few rules...well anyway they can't stop me from writing it 10 times, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Great work, I literally can't wait for the next one to come out. You have suceeded in addicting me  .

[The Chort]

I literally can't wait for the next one to come out. You have suceeded in addicting me  .

My thoughts exactly. Word up, RClock. Word up.

[RClock]

*The trio are sitting on the couch, looking through a photo album*

RC: Oh, and here we are at Disneyland. When do you think we can go back there?

TC: Probably when we look nothing like the file photos they have of us.

RC: Ahhh... right. But still, I think they were very understanding about those kids that Choco bit in that gift shop.

CM: They were trying to buy me!

TC: Well, when you were sitting next to all of those Mickey Mouse dolls, you did... well, you looked like part of the merchandise.

RC: I always said you were a living doll. Heh heh. Heh heh. Heh... sorry, not funny. But anyway, you have to admit I held my own in the ensuing fray.

CM: I don't think they appreciated you bludgeoning them with that plastic Tinkerbell wand.

RC: It's moments like that when your true colours come out. And The Chort's true colours were busy hiding behind the sales desk.

TC: And that was when they called the goons.

CM: Oh, right. The goons. There's a dark side to the Happiest Place on Earth that most people never see.

RC: Well, sweetie, sometimes you have to assault the hired help to see what really goes on outside of the public eye. Although I think it was cute that those guys were wearing mouse-ear hats with their pinstripes.

TC: And they sang "It's a Small World" in three-part harmony while they were heaving us over the fence.

CM: That was the most magical eviction I've ever experienced.

RC: Yeah, those guys at Carlsbad Caverns were a lot rougher .

TC: I don't feel like talking about that.

CM: Oh, don't be silly, The Chort. That wasn't your fault.

RC: Yeah, buddy. How were we to know that your glowstick would set the bats into a frenzy?

CM: And besides, only SOME of those people got rabies as a result. I think the whole thing was just a big overreaction.

TC: Unlike that time at Yankee Stadium...

RC: I still don't see what the big deal was. I mean, fans get to keep baseballs as souvenirs all the time, right?

CM: Yes, but I don't think that right fielder appreciated you jumping onto the field, tripping him and grabbing the ball.

RC: Yeah, he was a real sourpuss. He didn't even autograph it after I asked him nicely!

TC: Boy, those Yankees fans were mad.

RC: But on the plus side, after they dragged me off the field, I got to meet George Steinbrenner face-to-face!

TC: Not to mention fist to stomach.

CM: Have we ever had a vacation that hasn't resulted in a criminal record or massive injuries?

RC: Well, that time in Columbia we were only shot at... oh, look! Here we are standing next to the Statue of Liberty! One of the world's greatest natural formations!

TC: The Statue of Liberty isn't a natural formation!

RC: Sure it is!

TC: No, it isn't. A man named Frederic Auguste Bartholdi carved it!

RC: What?! You mean somebody carved that thing?! Well, that ruins the whole point! They should have had a plaque or something!

CM: Actually, I think they did.

RC: Aw, man. Now you've gone and rocked my world. I'm gonna go check my e-mail.

*He gets up and walks towards the computer*

RC: Grumble grumble Mr. Know-it-all... next you'll be telling me that somebody carved Mount Rushmore... what's this? Two e-mails from the same guy? Huh! I guess we'll have a double bill tonight. Question #1:

--
Dear RClock,

Are you related to the Poopsmith? If so, how?

Hoping this is repeated,
PT2FM
--

RC: Ah! (announcer voice) PT2FM! Hitting you hard with all of today's biggest hits! Or at least most of today's biggest hits! Well... some of them... we've got at least one or two of today's biggest hits kicking around here... somewhere... Les, where did you put those biggish hits? Uh, never mind.

Well, Petey, when you say "the Poopsmith", I can only assume that you mean the Poopsmith that works for the King of Town. You see, it's real hard to keep track of the Poopsmiths, because all of them are named "the Poopsmith". And all of them look exactly alike. I mean, I was raised by them and even I don't know all of their secrets. Maybe if I took the trials I'd know more, but then I'd be unable to tell you, what with the vow of silence and all. And I'd likely have to kill you even if I did tell you.

Poopsmithic lineage is real hard to keep track of. Maybe we're all related to each other. Who knows? It's hard to even tell the female Poopsmiths from the males. Do you know what it's like living life without being able to tell your own parents apart? Ick. If I had stayed, I'd likely have ended up betrothed to some young Poopsmithette, but I'm glad I got out of that. I'm eternally grateful that I found a girlfriend who doesn't smell like a bioweapon lab, let me tell you. She actually smells very nice, but that's none of your business.

But I guess things weren't all that bad living with a bunch of identical Poopsmiths. Like once the Poopsmith decided to switch places with the Poopsmith, and it was hilarious! The Poopsmith couldn't figure out what was going on! Of course, finally the Poopsmith and the Poopsmith admitted to the Poopsmith what they had done, and boy was the Poopsmith mad! But me and the Poopsmith and the Poopsmith were laughing so hard we thought we'd die! Well, technically, the Poopsmith and the Poopsmith were just holding up signs that said "HA HA", but the spirit was there.

So, Effrem, I guess the answer to your question is that I may be related to the King of Town's Poopsmith, but quite frankly I don't care enough to hunt him down and ask. I skip the family reunions on purpose, don't you know.

What's this? You want this to be repeated? Does this mean you want me to answer FOUR e-mails? Forget that, man. There are limits.

*Meanwhile, Ivan, holding a laser sniper rifle, peeks in the window behind RClock's computer*

Ivan: Hee hee! Ivan shall snipe while Herr Klock is distracted! ...why did Ivan just use a German expression?

RC: On to Question #2:

--
Dear RClock,

BOO! Ha ha! Gotcha!

Laughing at you from your window,

PT2FM

P.S. Gotcha again!
--

RC: DAH! *pant, pant* Oh, man! Don't do that to me! What kind of guy would... hmm...

*He holds up a small mirror and sees the silhouette of someone at the window behind him*

RC: Well, I have no idea if anybody's behind me, so I guess I'll just toss this VERY HEAVY PAPERWEIGHT over my shoulder, and nobody will hold me liable if there's somebody standing where they shouldn't be standing. Right?

*He tosses the paperweight over his shoulder*

Ivan: Eat sniper scope, insolent Klock! ...Huh?

*The paperweight hits him across the face and knocks him backwards. His eyes turn into spirals. He comes to with PT2FM standing over him*

PT2FM: Oh, sorry, pal. I was supposed to be standing there, but I got held up at the airport. Was he burned up? I bet he was!

Ivan: Wh-where am I? What am I doing in this espionage outfit? The last thing I remember is falling off that bread wagon in Stalingrad...

PT2FM: I have no idea what you're talking about. Oh, well. Catch you later!

*He darts off, chuckling to himself*

Ivan: This is frightening. I have no idea what I've been doing all this time! It's like I woke up from some horrible dream!

TS: *snuffle*

Ivan: Oh, hello, little fellow. Would you happen to know what I've been doing all this time?

*The Sneak rolls his eyes*