Characters:
Narrator
Drallus
Max
Furtrace
Keane
Slotter
Molly
Jimmy
Prime Minister
Narrator: It was Tuesday morning. Slimer was dead. The Empress
of Alter Earth was forever encased in Time. Jimmy was the President-elect
of the United States
of America and still couldn’t tie his own tie. There was a newly made
bust of said President-elect sitting in San Francisco, waiting to be picked
up. And the Flash Pack thought that that was the worst of their problems.
Drallus: Please Max? I promise it will only take a few hours.
Max: But I promised Jimmy that I’d help him get ready for his speech.
Drallus: Max! His speech isn’t even for another two days! All we have
to do is fly out to San Francisco! Fly there, take a ride on one of those
historical trolley things, get the bust, which, by the way is too bloody heavy
for me to lift by myself thanks to you men and your bigger-is-manlier complex,
and fly back! We’ll be back before the ten o’clock news!
Max: I don’t know…I’ll have to make sure Jimmy will be
ok without me.
Drallus: Ok without you? The kid’s going to be ruler of a country,
Max! Him, and not you! I think he’ll be fine for a few hours without
you to baby sit him!
Narrator: Keane, Slotter, and Furtrace entered the room. Slotter was attempting
to get the whole crew in one spot to work out logistics. Keane and Furtrace
were looking for some quality entertainment.
Drallus: Max refuses to help me pick up Jimmy’s inauguration present
because he needs to stay behind and tie the President’s shoe laces for
him!
Furtrace: I’ll go to pick up the bust with you, Drallus…heh heh.
Drallus: Gods! You men are so useless! (Slams door)
Max: I suppose I should go after her…
Keane: (shouts after Max) Good luck with the groveling!
Slotter: Way to make things go smoothly, Fur-face.
Furtrace: Look, it’s not my fault that Drallus has bodacious ta-tas!
Slotter: Ugh! Gross!
Keane: How about try for someone that’s maybe in your genus?
Slotter: I’m not having this conversation. Meet me back in the ship
in ten minutes, I’m going to find Molly.
Narrator: Slotter wandered the halls of the halls of the White House looking
for Molly, if you can call being dogged by three Secret Service officers wandering.
She finally found her in the second floor bathroom.
Molly: Ok…now try it yourself.
Jimmy: Like this?
Molly: If you feel the need to asphyxiate yourself, yes.
Slotter: But I highly recommend that you, you know, not do that. Seeing as
we spent so much of the past year helping make sure you got this job and not
Marsh.
Jimmy: Are you sure? I mean...well…I suppose I shouldn’t even
joke about it.
Slotter: Probably not. But you should definitely try smiling more often.
And don’t worry, if you do screw up your speech, rest assured that we’ll
be there to back you up. And then tease you about it for the rest of your
life.
Jimmy: Thanks for unwavering support, Jill.
Slotter: No problem Jim-bo! Anyway, Molly, I’m calling a meeting out
in the ship. Jimmy, feel free to join us.
Jimmy: I’d like to, but I need to go run my speech past the Chief Justice.
Molly: Not before I see you tie that tie correctly young man.
Narrator: Three tries later, Jimmy had a tie tied well enough to meet even
Von Wicked’s standards, and the two girls left him alone and trekked
across the White house lawn to the Flash Pack’s Saladonian catship.
Slotter squeezed her way through the group into the too-small vessel and plunked
herself down in front of the main console, punching a bunch of buttons in
random order.
Slotter: Jimmy is being sworn into office in two days.
Keane: Duh?
Slotter: Drallus, you ordered a bust of him and have to go to San Francisco
tomorrow to pick it up, but you need someone to go with you to help transport
it.
Drallus: Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Slotter: Guys, this is serious! We have to deal with this statue business.
That gets top priority right now!
Drallus: You needed to drag all five of us out here to tell two people that
getting Jimmy’s bust is top priority?
Slotter: Yes! (beat) Other than…you know…breakfast…And
we got another message from that Mistress of the Galaxy person. And the Prime
Minister of Flutwana sent to us for help.
All: What?!
Slotter: Don’t you guys check the mailbox?
Drallus: With you to do it for us? Why bother?
Furtrace: Flutwana as in Venus?
Keane: No. The other Flutwana.
Narrator: While Keane and Furtrace were making faces at each other, Molly
leaned around Slotter to check the message on the screen.
Molly: He says the Blagenstraf landed an hour ago. With the difference in
time according to the faster rotation of Venus itself, they’ve been
there for several hours already.
Max: Ugh. They couldn’t have waited three days could they? We don’t
have time for this!
Slotter: This is true. But think back to the last time we got a cry for help
from Venus.
Molly: She’s right. We left the banquet with Queen Elizabeth the first,
traveled all the way back into the present to save them from evil zombies.
And it turned out that it was just a band of Nowhere Men that stumbled through
a space rift.
Drallus: What about this Mistress of the Galaxy? What does she have to say
this time?
Max: Looks about the same as her last letter. Death. Doom. Destruction. Demands
for dark chocolate. It's probably some nine-year-old that broke into her parents
communication chamber and is just looking for a free bag of sweets.
Keane: I don’t know… She addresses us all by name.
Molly: Keane, everyone knows who we are. They make comic books out of our
adventures for crying out loud.
Keane: Max- she asks if you've thought about her offer to co-rule the galaxy
with her and her brother...
Max: What?
Keane: To Molly she says "go play with your little hyper drive and stop
standing in Max’s way and preventing him from living up to his full
potential of greatness."
Narrator: Molly turned a new shade of red. Keane read through the rest of
the letter, which insulted and/or made personal demands of every member of
the Flash Pack. An uneasy silence was left hanging over the ship.
Slotter: So...what’s the verdict guys?
Max: Well, as serious as both of these new messages sound, I doubt that either
one of them presents any immediate threat. It’s like Slotter said, getting
Jimmy’s present is top priority.
Drallus: No immediate threat? Did you hear any of what Sara said, Max? This ‘Mistress
of the Galaxy’ could show up any minute and enslave the entire human
race! I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to spend the rest
of my life rubbing lotion on some evil…(dreamily) muscular…handsome-I
mean evil, very evil and dangerous warlord!
Molly: Max is right, Drallus. While we’re going to have to deal with
her eventually, as long as she keeps sending us these messages of threats
and demands and not ultimatums, I think we should be ok. What we really need
to concentrate on right now is Venus and Jimmy.
Max: I think the best course of action is for Drallus to go to San Francisco
and pick up the bust. The rest of will nip on out to Venus, assure the Prime
Minister that everything is fine, and meet back here tomorrow.
Drallus: So you’ll go all the way to Venus with them but you won't
fly across the country with me?
Narrator: Drallus glared at Max for a few seconds. It was difficult to tell
whether she was going to sprout clawed tentacles and start breathing fire
at them all, or run out of the ship and cry. Eventually she settled for storming
out and slamming the door so hard that the screens blinked and something important
looking fell off the back of the ship.
Furtrace: Geez, what’s her problem. I told her I’d go with her.
Slotter: You’re missing the point, Furtrace.
Max: I suppose I’m going to San Francisco. Will you be ok without me
on Venus, Molly?
Molly: Yeah…sure…Like you said, it’s probably a fluke anyway.
Narrator: The Flash Pack headed quietly back to the White House to bid Jimmy
farewell. Drallus made some excuse about stealing Max away from him so close
to his inauguration, they promised to be back the next day, and the two of
them hopped into one of Jimmy’s private shuttles and took off. The rest
of the Flash Pack piled into their tiny ship and, with assurances to Jimmy
of a speedy return, took off for Venus.
Keane: I can't wait until that man learns to walk on his own two feet.
Molly: What are you talking about?
Keane: I’m talking about Max, and the fact that all Drallus has to
do is pitch a fit and he goes crawling to do her bidding.
Molly: Max is a grown man. If he feels the need for some teenage drama in
his life, I have no time to stop him.
Keane: Teenage drama? Listen sweetheart; if you can't tell the difference
between her whining and throwing herself at your man, maybe you two are dense
enough to deserve each other.
Molly: Excuse me?
Keane: Molly, I see the way you look at him. It’s so obvious to everyone
but him that you’re absolutely smitten by the guy. Now if he had two
brain cells to rub together-
Molly: I’m sorry, but who is the leader of this little troop?
Keane: A boy that pulls out a trampoline whenever Drallus says jump! If you
didn’t hang on every word he said like it was straight from God, maybe
you’d see what a half wit he really is!
Molly: You dare say that about the man that’s gotten us out of countless
scrapes!? The whole reason the Flash Pack exists in the first place?! At least
I’m not throwing myself on him like some horny little fan-girl!
Keane: At least she’s doing something about getting some action instead
of moping around and staring wistfully at him from the corner of the room!
At least she’s got the guts to make a move.
Molly: So just because I’m choosing not to sink to the level of the
Saturnian Strumpets, I’m not good enough for him?
Keane: Don’t you dare talk about Drallus like that! When was the last
time you spoke to her, Molly? When was the last time you actually had a conversation
with her? Do you actually know who Drallus is? Do you realize that she’s
waited for two years for you to make a move on Max? All because she didn’t
want to hurt you!
Molly: So now she’s a paragon of goodness?
Slotter: um… guys. See that, in front of us? It’s the ground.
And I don’t know about you, but I’d really appreciate if it wasn’t
coming at me quite so fast.
Narrator: Molly grabbed the controllers and made what was not quite defined
as either a crash or a landing on the front lawn of the Prime Minister’s
private estate. They were hurriedly escorted inside by armed Venusian Guards.
On their way in, they caught a glimpse of a few of the giant half-men, half-bird
Blagenstraf that seemed to be currently enthused by the idea of ripping up
large parts of landscape and seeing how far they’d shatter when dropped
from certain heights. Furtrace licked his lips.
Furtrace: Come to Furtrace, little birdy.
Molly: Furtrace, that’s hardly a little birdy.
Furtrace: So? They don’t look that dangerous. Besides, I’m a
highly dangerous warrior.
Molly: No you’re not! You’re a magician! See that Furtrace? Those
claws that are as big as me? Do you really want to go up against that?
Keane: Dumb cat.
Furtrace: Observant and stupid are not antonyms, Keane! And that’s
cat-Man, thank you very much.
Narrator: The Flash Pack spent the next hour deep in conversation with the
head of the Venusian Military and Prime Minister.
Molly: Ok, so you’ve correctly identified them as Blagenstraf, and
yes, they are actually dangerous this time. Now all we need to do is find
their host.
Prime Minister: Host?
Slotter: Blagenstraf, while being completely solid and dangerous to one's
health and well being, are no more than figments of the imagination. A concept
really. All it takes is for an evil Magician to conjure them, and they’ve
got their own army.
Prime Minister: I may be able to help you there... we've only been pestered
by one evil Magician in the last few months. Nova.
Keane: Nova! Again?
Molly: You know him?
Keane: Sworn enemy of Venus, cats, and naked women.
Slotter: What?
Keane: I think he dated an Amazon that kept a Persian cat. He ran over the
cat’s tail one morning. Boy was she pissed.
Molly: So what we need to do is find the location of this 'Nova' and take
him out.
Prime Minister: And then the Blagenstraf will disappear? It sounds simple
enough.
Keane: Sounding and doing are two different things. It could be anywhere
on the planet.
Furtrace: He’s in the cave three mountains down from the principal
volcano.
Slotter: How do you know?
Furtrace: Hello? Magician. He’s casting spells like a fiend. And it’s
all coming from the cave in the-
Keane: We got it. I suppose we just... go take him out then.
Molly: Flashpack!
Keane, Slotter, Furtrace: Flashpack!
Narr: The Prime Minister watched proudly as the four heroes returned to their
craft and flew off. He was a little surprised when they returned fifteen minutes
later.
PM: You're back!
Molly: It was easy. The man was afraid of cats and naked women.
PM: So, how did you defeat him?
Slotter: We threw Furtrace in front of him and told him to act like he was
in pain.
Furtrace: I was in pain, stupid face!
Keane: Then Jill ran out to him, screaming and crying that her poor cat was
dying and what sort of monster goes around hurting poor, defenseless kitties?
PM: And?
Molly: And the guy got all remorseful and lit himself on fire.
Furtrace: If Drallus were here, I bet she would have gotten naked… heh
heh.
All: Ew!
Furtrace: You people are so immature! I'll meet you back in DC.
Narr: And with a mew and puff of smoke, the cat-mage vanished.
PM: I still can't believe it was Nova behind all of this...
Molly: I can. It usually happens that way with evil magicians. You go out,
make a name for yourself, get fame and glory, but their real goal is to conquer
and destroy the world that raised them. (directed at Keane) Some people just
never outgrow teen angst.
Keane: (directed at Molly) But at least people knew better than to hang on
his every word.
Slotter: Prime Minister? Could I put in a request for separate rooms for
us all tonight?
Narrator: Will Molly and Keane ever make up? How is the bust of Jimmy going
to turn out? Will Max and Drallus be able to retrieve it without mishap?
Will they ever find out the true identity of the mysterious Mistress of the
Galaxy?
And most importantly, will the Flash Pack make it back to Washington in
time for Jimmy’s inauguration speech? Find out in next weeks thrilling
episode: Benedict Arnold.
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