A NURSERY?! YOU’RE SAYING THAT THERE’S GOING TO BE MORE OF YOU RUNNING AROUND?!
Miko, who has wandered into the kitchen, rolls several cans of asparagus and spinach to Toby’s feet.
We can TASTE the mackerel. We do not care for the mackerel. We prefer asparagus. Please, we cannot stand the taste of fish!
Seriously though, is me birthing a bunch of Mikollopria something that’s going to help us fight the Varelsi, o-or are you just doing this to screw with me again…?! I DON’T WANT TO BE A MOMMY, DAMN IT!!
Ernest: Yeah, none of us want you to be a mommy either. Try shavin’. Ya tongue.
NO!!! WE DO NOT WISH TO BE MURDERED!!! EAT THE ASPARAGUS!!! WE WILL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT!!!
DON’T LISTEN TO IT TOBY!!! THEY’RE GOING TO BORE INTO YOUR BRAIN AND CONTROL YOUR MIND!!! BURN THEM ALIVE!!!
WE WILL NOT HAVE THE POWER TO DO THAT FOR AT LEAST 72 HOURS!!! JUST KEEP US ALIVE AND WE WILL TRANSPLANT OURSELF SOMEWHERE ELSE!
BURN THEM WITH FIRE!!!
NO! NO FIRE!!! PLEASE!!!
TRY SOME OF MY RED HOT FIRE COLA!!! MADE WITH 100% REAL SHADOWFIRE!!!
She holds up a large battery that’s corroded from leaking acid for quite some time.
Toby reaches for the can of asparagus.
Toby scream in fear.
Crying with his eyes screwed shut, Toby slowly walks over to a drawer while carrying the can of asparagus, opens it, and proceeds to fork them into his beak.
Ahhhhh… much better. Thank you. It was difficult for us to think with that fish smell everywhere. Now. We require a volunteer for a transplant or barring that, a small warm blooded creature that we can slowly leech off of and harvest for vital fluids before finally taking control of its body and destroying its original cells. Do we have any volunteers?
Toby, hearing his potential fate with a beakful of asparagus, feels the world start to spin around him, and leans against the counter.
Orendi slams the battery down on the counter in front of Toby.
DRINK MY BEVERAGE!!!
Actually, that might hasten the growth of the mikollopria.
Miko hands him more asparagus and a raw cabbage.
Here, keep eating. We will think of something. Perhaps we could use one of Oscar Mike’s cats…
NO! I’M TIRED OF YOU GUYS USING MY CATS FOR EXPERIMENTS! OR KITTEN CATAPULTS!!! OR FOOD!!! THAT’S WHY I LOCKED THEM ALL IN A FIREPROOF, SOUNDPROOF, WATERPROOF, VACCUM-PROOF, ENTRY PROOF SAFE!!! THE COMBINATION TO WHICH IS “1!”
How long they been in there?
About a week, UNGH!!!
You did of course outfit the safe with an oxygen tank of some sort, right?
Why would I do that?
Cats need to breathe, dumbass.
Oscar Mike stands for a moment, then with realization.
PRINCESS FLUFFUMS!!! NOOOO!!! MR. SKINNY BOTTOM!!! OH NO!!! OH NO!!! DON’T DIE!!! I’M COMING!!! PLEASE!!! I’LL GIVE YOU OPS POINTS!!! PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD!!! OH CRAP, PLEASE NO!!!
He runs down the hallway to his storage safe.
He really kill 'em all?
No. It was just a cardboard box. They clawed their way out in about 5 minutes.
THEY’RE ALL GONE!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
But since he thinks they’re all dead, how about we transplant the mikollopria into this calico?
She holds up a cat.
Toby gets on his knees in front of Beatrix and brings his flippers together in a praying gesture, nodding enthusiastically. His beak is full of cabbage now, and he is unable to stop stuffing vegetation in it due to an insatiable craving for the stuff that he cannot explain, mostly because his beak is full of cabbage.
EVERYONE… TO THE LABORATORY!!!
Better idea, how about y’all go, an’ I get some chips an’ look at porn.
YOU CAN DO THAT IN THE LABORATORY!
You’re watching holosoaps and you’re not fooling anyone and I also happen to like Generic Hospital Drama 124! SO BRING THE CHIPS TO THE LABORATORY!!! AND SOME SODAS!!! We’re going to do surgery while watching people who’ve had plastic surgery perform fake surgery!
Ernest: Ugh. Can I bring beer and watch “House of Boom 4” instead? And can I help out with the surgery?
Yes to beer, no to boom, and yes to surgery assistance!
Ernest: Hmph. Two out of three, I’m down. He looks at Benedict and grins. And you, puke, are about to learn a thing or two about surgery with explosives.
Toby’s eyes widen, and he begins to slink away. Then he remembers Beatrix saying that he’d lose his mind if the Mikollopria isn’t removed from his tongue, and he slinks back with a defeated look. Getting blown up would suck less than becoming a zombie, after all. He thinks…
Hours later, a good number of the Battleborn are gathered in the surgery bay for Toby’s surgery/beer and chips/a Generic Medical Drama 124 viewing party.
Oh God, is she really going to try to perform surgery while under the effects of amnesia induced arthritis?
Chloe performed surgery on herself while suspended in mid air in a dyin’ chimp’s body. She’s got this HANDLED.
Beatrix begins spinning a loud circular saw blade next to Toby’s ear. The viewing party group starts to shout in protest.
I’m sorry but I DO have to do a real surgery here. Turn it up.
Benedict raises the volume until the beakers on a nearby shelf rattle.
NOW ERNEST YOU’LL NEED TO PUT ON SURGICAL GLOVES BEFORE PLANTING THE—
The rest of her instructions are drowned out by an upswell in dramatic music as the surgery on the drama begins.
Umm… I-Is it too late to change my mind…? Maybe being brainwashed by mushrooms and drained of my vital fluids won’t be that bad…
Ernest twirls his detonator around a claw and grins, roaring with laughter over the sound of the circular saw.
Ernest: ONLY BITCHES NEED SURGICAL GLOVES! AND MAMA IGRIN AIN’T RAISE NO BITCH!
Toby struggles against the stretcher’s straps.
Nnng…! Couldn’t you have at least put me under first?!
Beatrix: Standard medical procedure requires that you remain conscious throughout the entire operation where possible. She grins. But don’t worry. I’ll talk you through everything.
Ernest: Plus, you get to see what your own guts look like! Once in a few lifetimes opportunity, puke!