Erin Ptah (
ptahrrific) wrote2008-05-29 06:31 pm
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Drawing the Line, episode 1.02
Title: Drawing the Line, episode 1.02: A Little Advice
Rating: TV-14
Series: TDS/TCR; Harvey Birdman
Disclaimer: This is a work of parody. Although reference is made to real persons and places, the dialog, actions, and content are products of the author's imagination only. The animated characters are copyright various studios, none of which are mine.
In which Mentok takes minds, a story is related in which Jon goes without pants, and Colby Krause does some coaching, with plot-driving results.
For an idea of the difficulty Reducto is going through, check out this clip (featuring Inch High, Private Eye).
Table of contents.
Drawing the Line
Episode 1.02
A Little Advice
The door at the head of the courtroom swung open of its own volition. A cloud of purple smoke, glittering with a weird internal power like a swarm of violet fireflies, poured through. Outside, a clap of thunder rumbled in a cloudless sky. Somewhere in the distance, an ancient wolf let loose its final howl and expired.
As the smoke engulfed him, the bailiff didn't so much as blink. "All rise for His Honor, Mentok the Mind-Taker."
"That didn't sound awed," complained Mentok as he materialized at the head of the purple cloud. "I'm not seeing enough awe here, people. Let's try that again. All rise . . . for Mentok! The Mind-taker! Oooo-eeee-ooo!" He made a series of vaguely mystical gestures with his hands, then grinned and floated to the bench.
Mentok already knew everyone in the case, either from former cases or late-night channel flipping. There was Harvey's assistant, Judy Ken Sebben; Harvey Birdman himself; the defendant, Jon Stewart; the plaintiff, Stephen Colbert; and Colbert's lawyer, Myron Reducto. In spite of Mentok's own impressive introduction, he needed none in return.
Not that he would have needed introductions to unfamiliar people, either. (Mind-taking. Oo-ee-oo.)
Still, as a precautionary measure, he did a quick sweep of the minds before him.

"Oh," grinned Mentok, "this is going to be fun."
—
Jon wasn't sure how much more of this his nerves could take.
It wasn't that the case against him was particularly strong. So far it had been composed mostly of trivialities, like the time he had done a segment opposite Stephen without pants on.
It wasn't like he had planned that! His pants had met with an unfortunate accident, and it was going to take some time to hunt down a new pair. It wasn't like anybody in the audience could tell, with him behind the desk. They'd done the same trick on The West Wing, as Jon had tried to explain the first time he did it.
"Is that before or after the pot-fueled orgies?" Stephen had demanded.
"There aren't any pot-fueled orgies, Stephen," Jon had attempted to explain.
"And how would I know that? I've never watched that bleeding-heart show," Stephen had snapped, and refused to speak to Jon off-set for the rest of the day.
(None of it would have happened if Stephen hadn't spilled coffee on Jon's pants in the first place, but there was no point in trying to explain this nuance to him.)
So, okay, the case wasn't nerve-wracking. The lawyer, on the other hand, was more jittery than anybody Jon had ever seen. And that included the fans who nearly fainted when he pointed to them during the pre-show Q&A.
Reducto jumped. He hopped. He jolted. He whipped about. He threw himself to the ground. He couldn't get through a sentence without pointing that shrink-gun of his in three different directions. He shouted "Back off!" at people who hadn't moved.
And was it Jon's imagination, or did Reducto's furtive, haunted glances flicker towards him more often than anybody else?
You're being paranoid, Jon scolded himself. It's nothing to do with you. He's just quirky. He's a cartoon. This is probably perfectly normal behavior for him.
He had almost convinced himself of this, too, when Reducto stuttered to a halt altogether, then yelped, "Your Honor! Requesting a recess!"
"On what grounds?" asked the judge, in the bored tones of somebody who already knew, and was much more interested in the golf game he was foreseeing.
For some reason, though, Reducto himself seemed far less certain. He stuttered for a moment, twitched, let out a kind of squeak—then juggled his sci-fi weapon frantically. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the jury box was the size of a loaf of bread.
"Accidental jury shrinkage!" shrilled Reducto.
"Sustained," ordered Mentok. "This court will resume session in twenty-four hours. Dismissed!" He thumped his weirdly-squishy gavel on the bench, then vanished in a puff of smoke, glitter, and that sock you couldn't find after last week's laundry.
—
"Barkeep!" cried Reducto, aiming his shrink-gun. "Another of these very tiny shots! And make it snappy!"
He was one of the last people remaining in the bar. Harvey had been in earlier, warning him that he was in for a massive hangover tomorrow if he kept this up; Reducto had flinched at the word "massive", but downed another shot anyway. Eventually Harvey had drifted out, and Reducto was left on his own with a tower of emptied shot glasses. A tiny, tiny tower.
Normally he and Harvey could discuss their cases after hours, sometimes working out deals that made the ride smoother for everyone. Not this time. This time, he was already arguing the case so badly that a hangover could hardly be worse.
"I can't do this!" he wailed.
"Sure you can!" said a cheerful voice from beside him.
"Phil?" Reducto looked up, then did a double-take. It had sounded like Phil, but it looked like . . . "Stephen?"
"Hi there!" replied the man on the next stool, offering his hand. "Colby Krause. Pleased to meet you."
Reducto took the hand and shook it gingerly, wondering how he could have mistaken this man for his client. Stephen wasn't yellow.
"As I was saying," continued Colby, "of course you can do it. You're a winner."
"How could you possibly know what I can do? You don't know me," retorted Reducto morosely.
"No, but I know me! I'm a life coach. Making people into winners is my job."

"I still have standards," grumbled Reducto. "Another shot!"
"Tell you what," offered Colby, blocking the glass with his hand. "I'll give you some generic advice, on the house. No charge. And you see if it helps. Deal?"
"I will shrink you."
"Shake yourself out of that funk. Figure out what you want, and go for it. No looking back. No regrets. Seize life by the throat and throttle it like a bratty ten-year-old. Whoops, did I say that out loud?"
This was actually setting wheels turning in Reducto's brain. He zapped the man anyway.
"Not every problem can be solved by shrinking things!" cried a fun-size Colby Krause.
Reducto was already out the door.

Rating: TV-14
Series: TDS/TCR; Harvey Birdman
Disclaimer: This is a work of parody. Although reference is made to real persons and places, the dialog, actions, and content are products of the author's imagination only. The animated characters are copyright various studios, none of which are mine.
In which Mentok takes minds, a story is related in which Jon goes without pants, and Colby Krause does some coaching, with plot-driving results.
For an idea of the difficulty Reducto is going through, check out this clip (featuring Inch High, Private Eye).
Table of contents.
Drawing the Line
Episode 1.02
A Little Advice
The door at the head of the courtroom swung open of its own volition. A cloud of purple smoke, glittering with a weird internal power like a swarm of violet fireflies, poured through. Outside, a clap of thunder rumbled in a cloudless sky. Somewhere in the distance, an ancient wolf let loose its final howl and expired.
As the smoke engulfed him, the bailiff didn't so much as blink. "All rise for His Honor, Mentok the Mind-Taker."
"That didn't sound awed," complained Mentok as he materialized at the head of the purple cloud. "I'm not seeing enough awe here, people. Let's try that again. All rise . . . for Mentok! The Mind-taker! Oooo-eeee-ooo!" He made a series of vaguely mystical gestures with his hands, then grinned and floated to the bench.
Mentok already knew everyone in the case, either from former cases or late-night channel flipping. There was Harvey's assistant, Judy Ken Sebben; Harvey Birdman himself; the defendant, Jon Stewart; the plaintiff, Stephen Colbert; and Colbert's lawyer, Myron Reducto. In spite of Mentok's own impressive introduction, he needed none in return.
Not that he would have needed introductions to unfamiliar people, either. (Mind-taking. Oo-ee-oo.)
Still, as a precautionary measure, he did a quick sweep of the minds before him.

"Oh," grinned Mentok, "this is going to be fun."
—
Jon wasn't sure how much more of this his nerves could take.
It wasn't that the case against him was particularly strong. So far it had been composed mostly of trivialities, like the time he had done a segment opposite Stephen without pants on.
It wasn't like he had planned that! His pants had met with an unfortunate accident, and it was going to take some time to hunt down a new pair. It wasn't like anybody in the audience could tell, with him behind the desk. They'd done the same trick on The West Wing, as Jon had tried to explain the first time he did it.
"Is that before or after the pot-fueled orgies?" Stephen had demanded.
"There aren't any pot-fueled orgies, Stephen," Jon had attempted to explain.
"And how would I know that? I've never watched that bleeding-heart show," Stephen had snapped, and refused to speak to Jon off-set for the rest of the day.
(None of it would have happened if Stephen hadn't spilled coffee on Jon's pants in the first place, but there was no point in trying to explain this nuance to him.)
So, okay, the case wasn't nerve-wracking. The lawyer, on the other hand, was more jittery than anybody Jon had ever seen. And that included the fans who nearly fainted when he pointed to them during the pre-show Q&A.
Reducto jumped. He hopped. He jolted. He whipped about. He threw himself to the ground. He couldn't get through a sentence without pointing that shrink-gun of his in three different directions. He shouted "Back off!" at people who hadn't moved.
And was it Jon's imagination, or did Reducto's furtive, haunted glances flicker towards him more often than anybody else?
You're being paranoid, Jon scolded himself. It's nothing to do with you. He's just quirky. He's a cartoon. This is probably perfectly normal behavior for him.
He had almost convinced himself of this, too, when Reducto stuttered to a halt altogether, then yelped, "Your Honor! Requesting a recess!"
"On what grounds?" asked the judge, in the bored tones of somebody who already knew, and was much more interested in the golf game he was foreseeing.
For some reason, though, Reducto himself seemed far less certain. He stuttered for a moment, twitched, let out a kind of squeak—then juggled his sci-fi weapon frantically. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the jury box was the size of a loaf of bread.
"Accidental jury shrinkage!" shrilled Reducto.
"Sustained," ordered Mentok. "This court will resume session in twenty-four hours. Dismissed!" He thumped his weirdly-squishy gavel on the bench, then vanished in a puff of smoke, glitter, and that sock you couldn't find after last week's laundry.
—
"Barkeep!" cried Reducto, aiming his shrink-gun. "Another of these very tiny shots! And make it snappy!"
He was one of the last people remaining in the bar. Harvey had been in earlier, warning him that he was in for a massive hangover tomorrow if he kept this up; Reducto had flinched at the word "massive", but downed another shot anyway. Eventually Harvey had drifted out, and Reducto was left on his own with a tower of emptied shot glasses. A tiny, tiny tower.
Normally he and Harvey could discuss their cases after hours, sometimes working out deals that made the ride smoother for everyone. Not this time. This time, he was already arguing the case so badly that a hangover could hardly be worse.
"I can't do this!" he wailed.
"Sure you can!" said a cheerful voice from beside him.
"Phil?" Reducto looked up, then did a double-take. It had sounded like Phil, but it looked like . . . "Stephen?"
"Hi there!" replied the man on the next stool, offering his hand. "Colby Krause. Pleased to meet you."
Reducto took the hand and shook it gingerly, wondering how he could have mistaken this man for his client. Stephen wasn't yellow.
"As I was saying," continued Colby, "of course you can do it. You're a winner."
"How could you possibly know what I can do? You don't know me," retorted Reducto morosely.
"No, but I know me! I'm a life coach. Making people into winners is my job."

"I still have standards," grumbled Reducto. "Another shot!"
"Tell you what," offered Colby, blocking the glass with his hand. "I'll give you some generic advice, on the house. No charge. And you see if it helps. Deal?"
"I will shrink you."
"Shake yourself out of that funk. Figure out what you want, and go for it. No looking back. No regrets. Seize life by the throat and throttle it like a bratty ten-year-old. Whoops, did I say that out loud?"
This was actually setting wheels turning in Reducto's brain. He zapped the man anyway.
"Not every problem can be solved by shrinking things!" cried a fun-size Colby Krause.
Reducto was already out the door.

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(Also, when I read "Mind-taker. Oo-ee-oo." I knew the exact tone and cadence those words held. I think... I think I need to stop watching this show so much.)
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(Stop watching Mentok? Never!)
Thank you!
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So glad Colby has some fans =D
Thank you!
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Hells yeah, lol! His guest-voice-ing and Jon's are the only reasons I've ever watched the Simpsons, lol.
NO! Thank YOU! XD
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This is a fun read. (Oo-ee-oo!) :)
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Thanks!
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Oh god, Im laughing way too hard.
*LOVES ON THIS BUT NOT IN A GOOEY WAY*
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Glad you like!
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This is hilarious! Makes me wish I'd seen more than a teeny bit of HB ...
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Glad you like ^_^
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after no Interents for three days, this was SO WORTH IT
I *bow* to your comic skillz
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Thank ye kindly!
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will keep a close watch *binoculars are whipped out*