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

[The Chort]

There aren't many things worth waiting six weeks for... Okay, there are tons of things, but that's beside the point.

This email was worth the wait. I've missed the ClockMail Gang. Good to know you're not dead.

[RClock]

*We see the top of a mountain. Suddenly there's an explosion. RClock rides down the mountain by grinding down the antiquated rail system, a look of determination on his face. All four of his hairs blow in the breeze. The Offspring's "Million Miles Away" plays on the soundtrack. Finally RClock screeches to a halt, on the front steps of Darlon's citadel. He pauses...*

RC (hopping up and down): EEEEYOOOWWWWWCH! OW OW OW OW OWWWW! Oh, that smarts on the old tootsies. I better wear some shoes next time...

*He limps his way to the front door*

RC: Here's where that madman's keeping poor Choco locked up. I better be quick. She's probably crying for help right now.

*We cut to the dungeons. Choco and Darlon are giggling their heads off as they guzzle their umpteenth glass of sugar. Choco tries to pour some more but ends up spilling most of it. They giggle more*

CM: What round is this?

Darlon: I've lost count!

*They laugh some more*

CM: Oh man, I'm so hopped up right now...

Darlon (suddenly back to normal): I realize.

CM: Hey, wait a minute...

Darlon: Did you not think to check the label? That's my family cane we've been imbibing! I was raised on that stuff!

*CM stares in shock*

*She starts giggling again*

CM: You said "imbibing"!

Darlon: And now, my little sugar-rushed friend, I've ensured you'll be too loopy to try to escape as RClock and I settle our ages-old rivalry. And by ages-old I mean, like, a month.

*He wraps her up in Plot-Device Proof Rope*

Darlon: Worry not, my dear. You'll get a front row seat for that simpleton's upcoming execution! Teeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheehee! *Ahem* Sorry. I guess I did have a touch too much myself...

*Outside the fortress, RClock knocks on the door*

RC: I shoulda brought my Mom's Pantry catalogue with me. These guys are just aching for some paprika, and I do need to meet my quota...

*The ancient doorkeeper's face appears*

Doorkeeper: Before you stands an ancient door, and now here is the catch. My riddle you must solve before the keeper lifts the latch.

RC: Oh man, I hate these. Okay, cut the crap and let's go!

Doorkeeper: This riddle was created 3000 years ago by the dreaded Sphinx. Answer it correctly and you will be allowed in. Answer incorrectly and you well be dropped through a trapdoor onto a bed of steaks.

RC: Don't you mean a bed of stakes?

Doorkeeper: No, a bed of steaks. And they're medium rare.

RC: You sadists! You know I can't stomach medium rare!

Doorkeeper: Are you ready for the riddle?

RC: Ready, Freddie. Lay it on me.

Doorkeeper: Who played Venus Flytrap on "WKRP in Cincinnati"?

RC: Oh, man, I know this one. Uh... Tim Reid?

Doorkeeper: You have solved the riddle of the ancients! Enter with my blessing.

*The door opens*

RC: Three points for me, and only 97 to go! Just for transition's sake, I wonder what the gang back home is doing right now. I hope that celebrity guest arrives to answer my e-mail for me...

==
*Back home, we see TC and SBG*

TC: I hope we don't have to answer an e-mail again. That NEVER turns out well.

SBG: RClock said that he was getting a celebrity friend to answer for him. Some guy named Mapother...

TC: When did he say that last e-mail?

SBG: Uh... when nobody was looking, I guess.

*There is a knock at the door*

TC: I'll get it.

*He opens the front door and sees... Tom Cruise?!*

Tom (grinning like an idiot): Hi, I'm, um, here to, um, do an e-mail thing. Here. Yeah.

TC: Why are you smiling?

Tom (grinning like an idiot): I'm not smiling.

TC: Oh.

Tom (grinning like an idiot): Hey, we have the same initials!

TC: My cup runneth over.

Tom (grinning like an idiot): So, where's the computer thing?

TC: Right this way.

SBG: I'm uncomfortable. Isn't his trophy... um, I mean girlfriend the same age as me?

TC: Don't ask. Just let him answer an e-mail and get him outta here as quickly as possible!

Tom (grinning like an idiot, jumping on the couch): IT'S AN E-MAIL! IT'S AN E-MAIL! IT'S AN E-MAIL!!!

*He goes to the computer*

--
Dear RClock,

How much is 5 by pies?

Yours truly,
Jimmy Shortstack
--

Tom (grinning slightly less, but idiotic as ever): Now just a minute here, Jimmy. You don't know the secret history of pie mathematics. I do. Math is actually a pseudo-science. Nowhere in Battlefield Earth is it ever mentioned that 5 times 4 is equal to 20, so obviously it can't be true. And I know what I'm talking about. I myself was twenty back in... um... very recently, so yeah. I know more than you. I actually know more than the top five Nobel Laureates, and if they'd ever hold still I'd tell them exactly why. And another thing... your money is actually trying to talk to you. If you can't hear it, you're already under its control. I've been enlightened to the...

TC: Shall I?

SBG: Go for it.

*TC smacks Tom across the face with his glowstick*

TC: Tom, you're more full of crap than RClock's closet.

Tom: AIIIIIIEEEE! My expensive beautiful pretty-man face! The only thing that covers up my lack of talent and virility!

*He dives out the window*

TC: Man, that felt good.

Ivan: Comrade Chort, if you're interested in getting rid of celebrities, Mr. Neil Young is still arguing with his chair from E-mail #10.

TC: I know just how to handle that.

*We see Neil Young arguing with his chair*

Neil: BLUHHHHHH-vup my NUUUUUUUH-ree DUUUUUUHHHNNN!

TC: Neil... there's something that needs to be said.

Neil: HUUUUHHHHHHHH?

TC: A southern man don't need you around anyhow.

*Stunned, Neil leaves*

SBG: You did good Chorty! I'm actually somewhat attracted to you at the moment!

TC: Hold it, Blondie! Do you realize what this means? With RClock gone, we can do things our own way! The way things SHOULD be done!

SBG: Oooh. That sounds important.

TC: Blondie... IT'S HOUSECLEANING TIME!!! A NEW DAY IS AT HAND!!!

*He raises his glowstick aloft, illuminating this dark, sorrowful world*

SBG: I hope that new day brings my chocolate truck!

==

*Back in the citadel*

RC: Hmm. So far no major obstacles. Looks like this is going to be a piece of...

*He nearly gets his head cut off by a roaring drill*

RC: Crap!

SD (as Orson Welles): A piece of crap is right, RClock! For I am... Senor Driller! Prepare to be bored to death!

RC: If I wanted that, I'd watch the first season of Moonlighting.

SD (as Joe Pesci): Am I a clown, meathead? Am I just a big stinkin' joke to you? What, what, whaddya cracked or somethin', ya nitwit? I'm gonna, I'm gonna pop your eyes out fer that, ya waxed bean-head! Pop 'em right out for that!

RC: You do impressions?

SD: (as Miss Prissy) Eeee-yay-ess!

RC: Can you do Brando?

SD (as Marlon Brando): Right now, as you are enjoying this e-mail thread, a thousand children are being hacked to death with a machete.

RC: Oh bravo, bravo!

*He kicks SD in the shin*

SD: STELLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAA!!!

RC: Adios, Senor! I'll give your boss my regards!

*He runs off*

SD (on the floor): I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody... instead of a bum... which is what I am...

*RC reaches the top of the tower*

RC: Darlon, I'm home!

Darlon: Finally! We had begun to wonder if you'd make it here in time for me to kill you! Wait a minute... *mouths something* Well, anyway, you get the idea.

RC: Alright, dirtbag. Drop the Cheatling and nobody gets hurt.

Darlon: Oh, but I fully attend to drop her. Tee hee. Observe!

*We see CM suspended by a winch over the edge of the cliff*

CM: Wow. I know it's totally inappropriate to mention this now, but I feel like a bird!

Darlon: If you want to save her, you'll have to go through me first! Prepare to duel... to the DEATH!

RC: Well, that's... rather harsh. I hope the FCC doesn't mind this.

Darlon: Choose your weapon, foolish one!

*He presents a table with a Colt revolver, a rapier, and a Polish sausage*

RC (rummaging): Hmm. Decisions, decisions... something deep inside me is screaming "gun!". But what about that sword, eh? It's not bad. And we can't forget the sausage...

Darlon: Stop that! Oh, disgusting! I'm not going to use these weapons now that you've handled them all! Have you no decency?

*He throws the table away*

Darlon: We need no weapons anyhow. I will defeat you with my bare hands! RClock, say your prayers!

RC: All right. Now don't rush me on this.

*Five hours later*

RC: In the beginning there was the Word...

Darlon: Zzz...

RC: Ah HA!

*He ties up Darlon in PDPR*

RC: Let your guard down, eh? Well, now I've gotcha. And Choco is free at last!

Darlon: You imbecile! I've won! In a matter of seconds your past self will receive my sinister virus and retroactively erase my defeat! Savour the few moments of victory, RClock... they will be ALL you have!

*The two watch the TV screen that shows the past... look, just run with it*

*We see a young RClock at his computer. Really young*

YoungRC: I hate computers! When I grow up I'll NEVER use computers, even when I'm married!

Mom: Now, Rocky, check your e-mail like a good boy.

YoungRC: Aw man, I HATE checking e-mail. No good will ever come of this.

*RClock's bratty sister bursts on the screen*

RCBS: That's MY e-mail, you socially-impaired overgrown infant! MY e-mail! You don't deserve e-mail anymore than you deserve food!

YoungRC: But I...

RCBS: Mom! RClock thinks he has human rights again!

Mom: Rocky, capitulate to your sister like a good boy.

YoungRC: Oh, all right.

RCBS: Good to see SOME people know who's going to actually achieve something in this family! Oh, what's this? An e-mail addressed to RClock? I think I'll answer it!

YoungRC: But that's my...

RCBS: Oh, shut up. You don't even have real emotions. Now what's this here?

*The opens the e-mail. The Virus consumes her*

RCBS: THIS IS ALL YOUR F...

*POOF*

RC: Whoa! I have a sister?

CM: HAD a sister.

*Onscreen, YoungRC stares at the pile of ashes*

YoungRC: I LOVE e-mail!

RC: Well, that was convenient!

Darlon: Curses! All my plans were ruined! I will now be forced to attempt to kill you in a really clumsy way that will ensure my defeat without you actually harming me! YAAAAAAARGH!

*He breaks out of the rope and runs straight at RC. RC sidesteps calmly. Darlon goes over the cliff*

Darlon: Da-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hooey!

*CRASH*

RC: Looks like fall comes early this year! Heh heh. Or maybe late... dang, I need work on this. Oh well.

*Suddenly Choco's rope snaps and she falls*

CM: You know, I could just fly up, but he could use the excercise.

*RC grabs the broken end of the rope*

RC: Don't worry, Choco! I gotcha! I'll NEVER let go!

*He strains mightily to pull her up. Sweat pours down his face*

CM: RClock, I weigh two pounds.

RC: ...Oh.

*He picks her up quite easily, if sheepishly*

RC: So... uh... are you all right?

CM (giddy): Well, I'm kinda loopy right now because we held a drinking contest and I pounded back 85 shot glasses of sugar and I'm still tingly from it and I'm starting to have mood swings and... (angrily) what took you so long, anyway? I could have DIED up here, you know! Or worse, have that guy make out with me or something! Where do you get off, anyway? What kind of a boyfriend are you? (sadly) I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just got scared and confused and a little nauseous and... (dreamily) you're cute when you look freaked out... zzzz...

RC: Sweet dreams, Choco. I think you'll be sleeping this one off for a while. Now to find a way to get back...

*He sees a long cable that extends down the mountain. On a hunch, he reaches into his collar and pulls out a coat hanger*

RC: So THAT'S why my neck is so sore.

*He hooks the hanger onto the cable, Choco tucked under his arm*

RC: Here we go!

*He zip-lines down the cable, all the way home, which happens to be at the bottom of the mountain*

*Inside, we see SBG and TC, dressed as hippies*

TC: Well what do you know! In the two days RClock was gone, we've created a utopian society within this house! Looks like we've figured out what was keeping this place from...

*CRASH! RC and CM smash through the picture window*

RC: Woo hoo! We gotta do that again! Lucky for us the journey was downhill both ways!

*Society dissolves into anarchy again*

TC: My paradise! Ruined!

SBG: Hi, RClock! Did you bring my chocolate truck?

RC: I, uh, had some trouble getting it through the border. But we've gotta get on the ball. When's Halloween?

TC: Yesterday.

RC: Shoot!

*Everything suddenly turns to static. Two eyeballs stare at you for some reason*

THE END

[RClock]

*Everything is black*

RC: Hey! Who turned out the lights?

SBG: How will anybody see my clever costume if it's so dark?

Voice: Hold on a second!

*ZZZZUM. The lights turn on. We see BHZ adjusting an extension cord.*

BHZ: There. That oughta be good now.

*We now see the group, IN THEIR COSTUMES!!!*

RC: Are the lights on now?

CM: Of course they are, silly!

RC: Okay. I can't see out of this thing!

TC: Okay. So it's Halloween. Technically. What do we do now?

RC: I'm going to go answer an e-mail... IN A MASK!!! It's the true meaning of Halloween.

*He leaves*

TC: I know all too well what Halloween means to him.

CM: Yep. Another night of "Thriller" playing on endless loop, I'm afraid.

Ivan: Ivan brought ear plugs this year!

SBG: So what? None of use have ears.

Ivan: Curses! Foiled again!

*A knock at the door*

TC: I'll get it. Again.

*He heads for the door and opens it*

TC: Oh no.

*There stands VanillaPlastic dressed as Cyndi Lauper. The Sneak is dressed as Dan Quayle*

VP: TRICK OR FREAKIN' TREAT!!!

TC: Okay, here. Don't choke on it or anything.

*He tosses one of those pieces of wax wrapped in orange and black paper that is sold under the name of "Halloween caramel".*

VP: EXCELLENT!!! THIS IS JUST THE COMPOUND VANILLAPLASTIC NEEDS TO CREATE THE ULTIMATE WEAPON!!! COME, THE SNEAK! THE QUEST FOR FULL-SIZE SNICKERS BARS IS NEVER-ENDING!!!

*TS holds up a sign that reads "Can I have a potatoe?"*

TC: Nope. Happy Halloween.

*He slams the door*

TC: I think 3000 years old is too old for trick-or-treating, myself.

*RC approaches the computer*

RC: Thriller... Thriller night... okay, let's see.

*DATABASE CRASH*

RC: Say what? Where'd all couple of my e-mails go?

*THEY'RE GONE, MAN*

RC: Don't you remember them?

*TRYING...*

--
Dear... ah, you know.

Have you ever gone skydiving?

Yours truly, the BLEEAEAAAAAAEEERRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH
--

*The e-mail turns to blood and melts off the screen*

RC: Not good.

*OUTTA E-MAILS. GAME OVER, MAN. GAME OVER*

RC: Oh crap! I'M OUTTA E-MAILS! Must solicit the readers for more or I'll STARVE! Or something.

*He heads back to the group*

RC: Hey guys. Good news and bad news. The bad news is, I'm currently e-mail-less.

CM: Aw, that stinks.

RC: Good news is it's time to party like it's 1985!

TC: Oh, joy.

RC: Let's see here...

*He rummages through his box with the SCARIEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD*

RC: Ghostbusters... Monster Mash... Beverly Hills Cop Soundtrack... ah! Here we are!

*The music starts*

RC: It's Thriller time!

Michael Jackson: Night creatures stalk and the dead start to walk in their mass-ka-raaaaiiiiiiiiid...

*Zombies burst out of the ground and start a choreographed dance*

TC: You'd think we'd be used to this by now.

SBG: Clear!

*She whips out her RE4 rocket launcher and blows the zombies to bits*

Ivan: Ooh! We should do this every Halloween! And St. Patrick's Day!

Vincent Price: Darkness falls across the land... the midnight hour is close at hand...

CM: Hey, wait. I recognize that voice... Senor Driller, go home!

*The music stops. We see that "Michael Jackson and "Vincent Price" were really Senor Driller over the loudspeaker*

SD (as Jerry Lewis): Ooh, ooh, c'mon, gimme a chance! I can do all kindsa voices, gee wow! I can... I can... what with the imitations and the pastiches and the vocal inflections and the... HEY LADY!!!

CM: *snarls*

SD: Okay, I'll go.

*He leaves*

CM: Well, what can we do now?

RC: I know! Let's stand around and make cheap shots at each other's costumes!

Ivan: Agreed!

*pause*

TC: That is a nice costume though, Choco. But where's the scarf?

CM: It was too hard to dr... I mean, I forgot it.

TC: Ah.

SBG: But that is a nice costume nonetheless. And you imitate Rocky's voice so well!

CM: I'm not imitating Rocky's voice!

RC: Sure you are, right now!

CM: No, I'm not!

SBG: That sounded just like him.

CM: I'm telling you, I'm not... *sigh* Just gimme something with sugar in it.

*pause*

Ivan: So, Blondie, where is the rest of the Village People? Snicker snicker.

SBG: My rocket launcher's going to pretend you never said that.

Ivan: ...Duly noted.

*pause*

*Potthole swings by, dressed as Spider-Man*

PH: ACKNOWLEDGE MY EXISTENCE!!!

*We hear an offscreen crash*

PH: That was a very personal injury!

Ivan: Ivan really has nothing to add here, does he?

*pause*

SBG: Nice costume, the Chort. Skippy from Family Ties, right?

CM: Nah, he's Plato from Beetle Bailey.

Ivan: Ivan thought he was Rick Moranis from Ghostbusters!

RC: What? You mean he ISN'T Reynold in drag?!

*TC throws his glowstick at RC and hits him in the eye*

RC: Ow!

TC: Well what do you know? Homicide IS painless...

*pause*

TC: RClock, I need to ask you a question.

RC: Fire away, Chorty.

TC: Couldn't you have sprung for a better Triumph the Insult Comic Dog mask?

RC: Triumph the...what? Are you mad, man? This character predated that other puppet by at least a year!

TC: I never heard of him. He's not one of those... you know...

RC: Oh, just say it already.

TC: ...CANADIAN things, isn't he?

RC: Yes, yes he is. Everybody happy?

CM: I have a question.

RC: You could try Google...

CM: No, it's a question about you.

RC: Oh, okay. What is it?

CM: ...How do you breathe with that huge sock stretched tight over your head?

RC: Hmm. Good question.

*He passes out*

CM: Shouldn't have asked.

*The lights go out again*

BHZ: Oops! Sorry!

SD (as Napoleon Dynamite): Arrrrooooo-gah! I'm tellin' ya, ladies and gentlemooks, we gots ourselves a dark one over here! Yessir! The only way I could see my own hand is to give myself the old pokeroo in the eyebulbs!

CM: For the last time, RClock, stop writing about movies you've never seen!

THE END (BWA HA HA)

[MBD123]

AUGH! Are you not to lazy to type the Alt+164 key combination? His name is señor driller, not
senor driller! Senor driller is a ripoff of senor cardgage, who was origionally señor cardgage as it states on the HRwiki, which says Strong Sad calls him señor cardgage, but Strong Bad types it senor cardgage because he is too lazy to do the Alt+164 key combination, which brings me to this.

Above all that that was great

9.54800199524851200/10

But I guess that 9.54800199524851200 is borderline 10 so...

10/10

[ChocolateMetal]

Awesomest stuff ever! I was cracking up constantly. Well worth the wait.

*hands RClock two dozen pumpkin chip muffins*

[skinny_blonde_girl]

These are so awesome. I can't believe I've been so long without them.

Of course, now that I'm caught up, all I can do is wait with the rest of the masses.