Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2008-06-02 12:05 am
ptahrrific) wrote2008-06-02 12:05 am
Entry tags:
Fake News: Drawing the Line, episode 1.03
Title: Drawing the Line, episode 1.03: (The Taking) Of Minds And Men
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 Reducto and Jon go missing, Mentok's prediction is revealed, and Stephen, as usual, draws his own conclusions.
Table of Contents.
Drawing the Line
Episode 3
(The Taking) Of Minds And Men
"Our client has mysteriously vanished! He could be in mortal danger at this very minute! And meanwhile, we ourselves are in graver danger yet—of losing our case! We'll have to stall for time—but how?"
"Uh, Judy?" cut in Harvey. "This might not be the best time."
Judy looked sheepishly around the courtroom and climbed down off of the table. "Uh, right. Sorry."
The door flew open, and mystical purple smoke poured out of the darkness beyond.
"If he's not here, does that mean I win?" called Stephen from the far side of the aisle.
"All rise . . ."
"No," said Harvey, trying to sound more certain than he felt.
". . . for His Honor, Mentok! The Mind-Taker!"
"Say, you're one to talk. Where's your lawyer?"
"Oooo-eeee-oooo!"
"He'll be here any minute," said Stephen defiantly.
"Are you guys paying attention?" demanded Mentok.
"Sorry, Your Honor!" replied Judy quickly. "We're distracted by the fact that the victim and the villain have mysteriously disappeared."
"I think you mean the villain and the hero's sidekick," put in Stephen.
Harvey decided it was high time to retake control of the situation. "Your Honor, I move that the case be dropped, on the grounds that we cannot possibly reach an appropriate verdict under these . . . ."
"Nonsense!" interrupted Mentok. "I already know what the outcome of the trial will be. I wrote it down before we started, remember? Bailiff! Where did you put—a-ha! Harvey, read that, there's a good man. Bird. Whatever."
Harvey tore open the sealed envelope and unfolded the piece of paper within.
—
The secret base hadn't been used for years, and for good reason: it was ten miles away from the nearest convenience store. If you had a sudden craving for a midnight Happy Meal, you were simply out of luck.
Still, steel-lined caverns deep in the heart of abandoned volcanoes had their charms. The thick, heavy doors, for one. And the fact that nobody knew where to find them. For a supervillain, or a simple man who valued his privacy, they were hard to beat.
The place needed a bit of tidying up after so many years of disuse, and Reducto hummed as he dusted off equipment, imagining the decorations he would add. A nice vase here. Some new wallpaper there. All chosen to match the room's new centerpiece, which at first glance looked like an exquisitely detailed dollhouse on a stainless-steel table.
A very little noise reached Reducto's ears, and he stopped humming to listen.
Then, ever so silently, he tiptoed over to the dollhouse and put his eye to one window. The miniature pane of glass was blocked by a set of dainty venetian blinds; Reducto waited patiently, and a minute later they were drawn open.
Reducto bounced on his heels in delight as he heard an itty-bitty scream.
—
With an embarrassingly girly shriek, Jon launched himself away from the window.
He had figured it was going to be a bad day when he didn't wake with his alarm, meaning he had probably missed his court appearance. Then he had realized that he was in an unfamiliar room altogether. And now there was a giant eyeball outside his window.
As he got to his feet, Jon reflexively rubbed his tailbone, then realized that it didn't hurt. That was odd. He had fallen awfully hard . . . .
The eyeball pulled away, and then somebody outside crowed, "You're awake! Oh, goody! Would you like some breakfast? A miniature egg? Tiny toast?"
The voice sounded familiar, and for a crazy second Jon thought it was Stephen; but then he recognized the accent of Stephen's lawyer. That would explain why the eyeball and everything around it had been purple. "Reducto? What did you do to me? Why are you a giant?"
"Don't say 'giant', I beg of you," implored Reducto. "I'm the same size as I ever was. Small. You, on the other hand, are now fun-size."
With some trepidation Jon walked back over to the window and looked out. The view that greeted him was the interior of a sparsely decorated mad scientist's laboratory, and sure enough, either there was something wrong with Jon's vision or he and the house in which he stood were drastically not to scale.
"This is some trick you're pulling," he remarked. "I'm pretty sure this counts as misconduct. Legal grounds for throwing out a trial."
"Oh, I'm not doing this for the trial," trilled Reducto. "I care no longer for such petty things. What sense lawyering, when there are such exquisitely tiny proportions as yours in this world?"
"Hey, I know I'm a short guy, but—"
"'Short'? Oh, sir, 'short' does not do you justice! No word could capture the minute perfection that is your form!"
"Uh, thanks?" said Jon hesitantly. "Listen, you may not care about the trial, but I'd kinda rather not be held in contempt of court for skipping out, so if you could just let me go, no harm done—"
"Let you go?" shrieked Reducto. "And allow the possibility that you might be sullied by the great wide world out there? Certainly not! You've been in far too much danger already, you magnificent creature. Never again!"
"'Never'?"
"Precisely!"
"In that case," said Jon slowly, "I think I'll have that breakfast now."
—
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 Reducto and Jon go missing, Mentok's prediction is revealed, and Stephen, as usual, draws his own conclusions.
Table of Contents.
Drawing the Line
Episode 3
(The Taking) Of Minds And Men
"Our client has mysteriously vanished! He could be in mortal danger at this very minute! And meanwhile, we ourselves are in graver danger yet—of losing our case! We'll have to stall for time—but how?"
"Uh, Judy?" cut in Harvey. "This might not be the best time."
Judy looked sheepishly around the courtroom and climbed down off of the table. "Uh, right. Sorry."
The door flew open, and mystical purple smoke poured out of the darkness beyond.
"If he's not here, does that mean I win?" called Stephen from the far side of the aisle.
"All rise . . ."
"No," said Harvey, trying to sound more certain than he felt.
". . . for His Honor, Mentok! The Mind-Taker!"
"Say, you're one to talk. Where's your lawyer?"
"Oooo-eeee-oooo!"
"He'll be here any minute," said Stephen defiantly.
"Are you guys paying attention?" demanded Mentok.
"Sorry, Your Honor!" replied Judy quickly. "We're distracted by the fact that the victim and the villain have mysteriously disappeared."
"I think you mean the villain and the hero's sidekick," put in Stephen.
Harvey decided it was high time to retake control of the situation. "Your Honor, I move that the case be dropped, on the grounds that we cannot possibly reach an appropriate verdict under these . . . ."
"Nonsense!" interrupted Mentok. "I already know what the outcome of the trial will be. I wrote it down before we started, remember? Bailiff! Where did you put—a-ha! Harvey, read that, there's a good man. Bird. Whatever."
Harvey tore open the sealed envelope and unfolded the piece of paper within.
—
The secret base hadn't been used for years, and for good reason: it was ten miles away from the nearest convenience store. If you had a sudden craving for a midnight Happy Meal, you were simply out of luck.
Still, steel-lined caverns deep in the heart of abandoned volcanoes had their charms. The thick, heavy doors, for one. And the fact that nobody knew where to find them. For a supervillain, or a simple man who valued his privacy, they were hard to beat.
The place needed a bit of tidying up after so many years of disuse, and Reducto hummed as he dusted off equipment, imagining the decorations he would add. A nice vase here. Some new wallpaper there. All chosen to match the room's new centerpiece, which at first glance looked like an exquisitely detailed dollhouse on a stainless-steel table.
A very little noise reached Reducto's ears, and he stopped humming to listen.
Then, ever so silently, he tiptoed over to the dollhouse and put his eye to one window. The miniature pane of glass was blocked by a set of dainty venetian blinds; Reducto waited patiently, and a minute later they were drawn open.
Reducto bounced on his heels in delight as he heard an itty-bitty scream.
—
With an embarrassingly girly shriek, Jon launched himself away from the window.
He had figured it was going to be a bad day when he didn't wake with his alarm, meaning he had probably missed his court appearance. Then he had realized that he was in an unfamiliar room altogether. And now there was a giant eyeball outside his window.
As he got to his feet, Jon reflexively rubbed his tailbone, then realized that it didn't hurt. That was odd. He had fallen awfully hard . . . .
The eyeball pulled away, and then somebody outside crowed, "You're awake! Oh, goody! Would you like some breakfast? A miniature egg? Tiny toast?"
The voice sounded familiar, and for a crazy second Jon thought it was Stephen; but then he recognized the accent of Stephen's lawyer. That would explain why the eyeball and everything around it had been purple. "Reducto? What did you do to me? Why are you a giant?"
"Don't say 'giant', I beg of you," implored Reducto. "I'm the same size as I ever was. Small. You, on the other hand, are now fun-size."
With some trepidation Jon walked back over to the window and looked out. The view that greeted him was the interior of a sparsely decorated mad scientist's laboratory, and sure enough, either there was something wrong with Jon's vision or he and the house in which he stood were drastically not to scale.
"This is some trick you're pulling," he remarked. "I'm pretty sure this counts as misconduct. Legal grounds for throwing out a trial."
"Oh, I'm not doing this for the trial," trilled Reducto. "I care no longer for such petty things. What sense lawyering, when there are such exquisitely tiny proportions as yours in this world?"
"Hey, I know I'm a short guy, but—"
"'Short'? Oh, sir, 'short' does not do you justice! No word could capture the minute perfection that is your form!"
"Uh, thanks?" said Jon hesitantly. "Listen, you may not care about the trial, but I'd kinda rather not be held in contempt of court for skipping out, so if you could just let me go, no harm done—"
"Let you go?" shrieked Reducto. "And allow the possibility that you might be sullied by the great wide world out there? Certainly not! You've been in far too much danger already, you magnificent creature. Never again!"
"'Never'?"
"Precisely!"
"In that case," said Jon slowly, "I think I'll have that breakfast now."
—