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The Return of Zalgar
by Jennifer Lynn Weston

(The mice are in the Acme lab. [How they got back there is another episode.] Brain is using one of the lab computer screens to help explain his latest world domination scheme to Pinky.)

Brain: This, Pinky, is the Space Shuttle on launchpad at Cape Carnival. It is presently being prepared for it’s latest mission; to release a chemical payload into the upper atmosphere to help repair Earth’s pollution-damaged ozone layer. When that shuttle lifts off, you and I shall be aboard it.

Pinky: (concerned) We’re not going to sabotage the mission, are we, Brain?

Brain: Certainly not- it’s hardly in our interest for my future domain to lack sufficient shielding against ultraviolet radiation. We shall simply alter the pattern of dispersal. (Jumps on the PC keyboard buttons to animate the graphics) Using internet resources, I have made extensive study of the shuttle’s mechanisms. I shall take control of the steering, and maneuver the shuttle so the released payload shall spell out the words ‘Brain Is The Rightful Ruler of Earth’ in great glowing letters visible around the globe. (computer simulation shows the shuttle doing this) Such a display will surely impress the populace to such an extent as to facilitate my rise to power.

Pinky: Egad! Brilliant! No, wait...

Brain: And why won’t it work this time, Pinky?

Pinky: (aside) This routine is getting too predictable. (to Brain) Because the shuttle liftoff is tomorrow afternoon. How can we get to Cape Carnival by then?

Brain: (rubbing chin) I have to admit, that is problematic...

Pinky: (noticing a discarded newspaper on the lab counter) Hold on! No it isn’t!

(They both study a bold-face item among the Want Ads.)

Pinky: ‘Wanted: Two Riders for Road Trip to Cape Carnival  [must not be oversized.] Possible Opportunity to View Shuttle Interior Before Liftoff. Be at Lewis Lane Park at 9:00 PM ’. That’s convenient, isn’t it?

Brain: (frowning) Yes, a little too convenient. But, it would seem to be our best chance. Come, Pinky; we have just enough time to get there by 9. 

(They exeunt stage left.)

(The mice ride a car bumper to the park, jump off, and enter. It‘s a spacious walled area, with curving sidewalks, benches, and a fountain in the middle w/ adjacent pay phone. The mice walk all the way to the center, but see no sign of life.)

Brain: (wary) No parking spaces anywhere nearby- not the most convenient place for a car pool to meet. (They pause beside a bench.) Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?

Pinky: I think so, Brain. (jerks thumb toward the fountain) But how can the cars pool here, when the pool isn’t even big enough for people?

Brain: No, Pinky. I’m wondering whether the party who placed that ad did so to...

(Suddenly a greenish humming spotlight switches on right next to them, illuminating the bench, which breaks loose and floats upward.)

Brain: ...to lure us into a trap. (The mice back nervously away.)

Pinky: (scared) Brain! What’s that? (He points up to the beam’s source - a hovering dark spacecraft, shaped something like a stomach.)

Brain: I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. (The spotlight starts to move toward them) Run, Pinky!

(The mice try to flee toward the entrance, but the beam blocks them. They run the other way, in a zig-zag pattern. The beam follows, sucking up more benches and waste cans as it comes, herding them toward the wall.)

Brain: We’ve got to get out of here before it corners us! (Brain spots a drain hole in the base of the wall) Look! We can escape it that way!

(They make a dash for it-  but less then a yard away, Pinky trips on a discarded cigar, falls full length, glances back to see the beam is almost on him.)

Pinky: (urgently) Brain! Help!

(Brain halts, dashes back to grasp Pinky’s hand, hurries to the hole and practically throws Pinky inside. But just as Brain is about to follow, the green light engulfs him and he’s drawn upward.)

Brain: Yeeeaaaah!

Pinky: (muffled, from inside hole) Brain? (Popping his head back out) Brain!

(Low-angle view of frightened Brain floating up to the round opening at the bottom of the spacecraft. He waves a final goodbye to Pinky as the retracting beam pulls him inside, the opening clangs shut, and the ship speeds away.)

Pinky: Brain!! Come back! (He darts from the hole, jumping around and frantically waving his arms toward the retreating craft) Brain! I’ll get help! I’ll call 911! (Pinky dashes to the pay phone, dislodges the receiver, but then remembers.) Oh no! I don’t have a quarter!

(He notices a number of coins gleaming in the fountain basin, runs over to it and dives in.)

(Cut to the spaceship interior. Brain, nervous, still floats in the greenish beam; everything beyond it is pitch black. There’s a sound like a light switch, the humming stops and Brain falls a few inches, to the one lighted circle on floor. He gets to his feet, regarding the surrounding darkness apprehensively.)

Brain: Could we please get some lights on in here? (The lights come on. Brain finds he’s surrounded by four mean-looking robotic creatures, each five times his size. They have weapons that look like old fashioned pointy can openers, sharp spikes protruding from their heads, and white circles on their chests labeled ‘Thing 1’, ‘Thing 2’, ‘Thing 3’ and ‘Thing 4’. Thing 4 carries a rope.)

Brain: (glumly) Actually, that didn’t improve things at all.

(The Things move in on him. Things 2 and 3 seize his arms, Thing 4 uses the rope to tie his hands behind his back.)

Brain: Ouch! Careful; I bruise easily.

Thing 1: (talking into a wrist communicator) The prisoner is secure, Captain.

Captain’s Voice: (too distorted to recognize) Excellent! Bring him to the bridge immediately.

Thing 4: Move it, large-headed Earthling. (He prods Brain’s back with the can opener. Things 2 and 3 lead Brain out, followed by Things 1 and 4.)

Brain: What are you doing?

All Four Things: Taking you to our Leader.

Brain: (muttering) Ask a stupid question...

(Meanwhile, in the park, a sputtering Pinky swims to the surface of the basin with a coin in hand- there are already several others scattered on the fountain’s rim.)

Pinky: (examining his latest find) Another deutschmark! Drat those German tourists! (He tosses the coin aside aside and goes under once more.)

(Aboard ship, Brain is led into the control center- kind of a demitasse version of Capt. Kirk’s bridge. A picture-window viewscreen dominates the far wall, beneath it is a wide semi-circular console, covered with lights, switches, etc, and with several Thing-sized station chairs, empty at the moment. The only occupied chair is the high-backed human-sized one at the central Navigational station; a vaguely familiar figure crouches over the steering wheel there, his back to the approaching procession. As Brain’s escort brings him to a halt, the figure folds his arms and swivels around in his chair, to smile maliciously down at Brain.)

Brain: (gasping in horrified recognition) Zalgar!

Zalgar: (inflection and mannerisms a la Khan) You remember me! I cannot help but be touched.

Brain: (snappish) What do you want from me?

Zalgar: (reaching to massage Brain’s head between thumb and forefinger) The same thing I’ve always wanted from you, you delectable little rodent. I think you recall.

Brain: (tense, but tightly controlled) You want to eat my brain.

Zalgar: Just so. Still the most palatable morsel this backwater planet has ever produced. (Zalgar sniffs Brain closely, Brain recoils as best he can.) Do I smell fear? Excellent; a little extra adrenalin will greatly enhance the flavor.

Brain: (through gritted teeth) Will you stop gloating and get on with it?

Zalgar: Not quite yet. (He gestures to his minions; they lead Brain to the right, to a much smaller chair adjacent to Zalgar’s) First, there is the matter of retribution, for that notably inhospitable way you treated me on my previous visit. (Still tied, Brain is strapped into the smaller chair. The Things scatter to their various stations at the console. Thing 4 takes the security-monitoring station closest to Brain.)

Zalgar: (turning back to grip the steering wheel) Before I imbibe, I shall force you to watch as I, Zalgar, accomplish what you have always vainly sought to do. I shall... Take Over The World!

Brain: (unimpressed) That’s easier said then done.

Zalgar: When I placed that newspaper ad to ensnare you, I was not being entirely duplicitous. We are indeed on our way to Cape Carnival for the shuttle launch- but when it takes off, it will be loaded, not with ozone-layer sealant, but with a formula of my own devising, which shall destroy Earth’s remaining ozone. Without the ozone shield, solar-radiation bombardment will make most of this planet’s surface uninhabitable. Humanity shall be forced to relocate underground, and amidst the chaos, I shall seize control. And so I shall become Absolute Ruler! (Maniacal laugh)

Brain: Quite a bit of trouble to go through, just to spite me.

Zalgar: It’ll be worth it to see you seethe with envy. And to work up a proper appetite. (Zalgar condescendingly chucks Brain under the chin; Brain angrily chomps his finger.)  Ow!  (Zalgar shakes his wounded finger, glaring at his prisoner.) That was an infantile gesture, Brain.

Brain: I just wanted to see how you liked being treated as a repast.
(Thing 2 steps around to bandage Zalgar’s finger.)

Zalgar: I’ll deal with retaliations later. Right now, I’ve got an appointment to keep. (Zalgar manipulates a few controls- wincing from his hurt finger- while Brain observes carefully.  Outside shot of the ship gaining speed and racing away in the night.)

(Back at the phone booth, a dripping-wet Pinky manages to drag a quarter up to the slot, deposit it, and punch in 911. Cut to the operator at the Emergency Response Center- who rather resembles Lily Tomlin- as she takes the call.)

Operator: One ringy-dingy. Two ringy-dingys. (opens line) This is 911.
Specify the nature of your emergency.

Pinky: Help! My best friend has been kidnapped by a UPN!

Operator: By United Paramount Network?

Pinky: By a UHF... a UPS... by one of those big saucer thingees!

Operator: Just one moment, sir: I’ll connect you with the proper agency.

(Her finger hovers over the buttons on her console: ‘Fire Dept’, ‘Ambulance’, ‘Plumbers Available On Weekend’, ‘Definitive Authority on Spectator Sports’, and then she presses the one marked ‘UFO Abduction Hotline.’)

(The Hotline rings at Z Files Headquarters, where Agent Skullbone answers. Agent Moldy is in background, beside a large electronic map of North America.)

Skullbone: This is the UFO Abduction Center, Agent Skullbone speaking. Please state where and when your incident occurred, and include a brief description of craft and aliens involved, if possible.

Pinky’s Voice over speaker phone: It happened just now, at Lewis Lane Park. My friend, Brain, he was pulled up into this big flying thing, like a huge stomach.

Skullbone: (momentarily covering the mouthpiece) I think we have a real loony-toon here, Moldy. (to Pinky) Let me make sure I understand. Your friend’s brain was pulled into a stomach?

Pinky: No, no! A spaceship! It looked like a stomach! It grabbed Brain, and then it flew away!

Moldy: (routine) I’ll check it on radar. (He starts punching into the map’s keyboard.)

Skullbone: Your friend is named Brian?

Pinky: He’s Brain! Now he’s gone, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again!  (cries)

Skullbone: (as one would sooth a child) There, there; try not to cry. We’re doing our very best to...

Moldy: (surprised) Hey! I’ve got a blip here!

(A tiny blinking dot moves on the US map. Skullbone looks over with new interest, as Moldy types some more.)

Moldy: I’ll see if our computer records can match it with anything we’ve seen before. (A ‘window’ pops up; Positive ID.) The configuration is different, but the energy signatures on this bogey match an alien craft downed near Devil’s Doughnut Monument last year.  (Brief flashback, showing how Zalgar’s first vessel came to grief.)

Skullbone: Are you referring to the mysterious ‘brainship’?

Skullbone and Moldy: (realization hitting them simultaneously) BRAIN ship ?!

Skullbone: (to Pinky) Stay right where you are- we’re on our way!


(Outside shot of Zalgar’s ship speeding thru dark skies, toward a very distant sunrise.)

Brain VO: You wouldn’t happen to serve complementary meals on these flights?

Zalgar VO: Sorry, Brain, that’s a privilege reserved exclusively for me.

(Interior shot, Zalgar shaking the hand with the bandaged finger.)

Zalgar: You deserve worse, for compromising my digital dexterity. Thing 4! Take over gripping the port side of this steering wheel. (Thing 4 abandons the security station to do so.) ETA, Thing 3?

Thing 3: (with Chekovian accent) Three point four hours, Seer.

(Zalgar pushes one of the console’s many buttons to bring up a tiny TV set, showing the shuttle on the launchpad, delivery trucks at the base, and the sun starting to rise beyond it.)

Zalgar: Ah, there it is, completely unsuspecting of the dire fate which awaits it!

Brain: (coldly) They’ll be on the lookout for you, Zalgar. Remember that Pinky slipped through your claws. He’ll have sounded the alert by now.

Zalgar: (scornfully) Pinky? That idiotic friend of yours with the inedibly small brain? (illustrates w/ thumb and finger) I doubt he’s even found his way out of the park yet.

Brain: I’ve learned not to underestimate what Pinky’s idiocy can accomplish. He’s probably closer then either of us suspects.

(Camera pan from the ship to a highway far below. Outside view of Z Files car.)

Pinky VO: That’s almost it, but it was a little, how do you say it? Rounder.

(Cut to car interior. Moldy is driving, using the dashboard’s radar scope to track the blip. Skullbone is typing into a laptop computer, trying to complete an image of the ship Pinky describes. Pinky himself is seated on the backrest between the two agents.)

Skullbone: (showing Pinky the graphic, now distinctly gastric-shaped) Is this better?

Pinky: (nodding vigorously) Yes! That’s what the flying thingee looked like! The one that took Brain! (pulling his tail with worry) Oh, I do hope he’s okay!

Skullbone: (to Moldy) What kind of civilization builds space-going vehicles in the shape of digestive organs, anyway?

Moldy: I would theorize, a society primarily concerned with internal matters. Most probably with eating.

Pinky: Eating? (gasps as he realizes) It’s Zalgar! He’s come back to eat Brain’s brain! Just like the first time, when he came in the Brainship!

(Skullbone and Moldy look sharply at Pinky.)

Skullbone: How do you know about the Brainship?!

Pinky: (jumping all around the car in acute anxiety) We’ve got to save Brain! He’s the only real friend I have and it’s all my fault Zalgar caught him because I tripped on the cigar and Brain came back for me and we’ve got to find him! (Dissolves into tears)

Skullbone: (to Moldy, indicating Pinky) What planet is he from?

Moldy: One conundrum at a time, Skullbone. It’s at least apparent this extraterrestrial ‘Zalgar’ is quite probably dangerous- capable of consuming cranial contents without remorse. (checking the scope) And he seems to be headed straight for Cape Carnival.

Pinky: Cape Carnival! Brain and I were trying to get there, for the shuttle launch.

Moldy: And the shuttle launch is today. (Flips open his cell phone) Put me through to the military base on Cape Carnival.

(At Cape Carnival, an officer answers the phone, papers are hastily dispatched to the top brass, orders are given, radar scopes are tuned, a ground-based missile aimed and fired.)

(Aboard the target, Brain is making a careful study of the console, especially the small  ‘Repair Access’ door at it’s base. When a light on Thing 4’s abandoned station, labeled ‘Incoming Weaponry’, begins to blink, Brain decides a diversion is in order.)

Brain: I have to admit, Zalgar, the gastric configuration of this spacecraft is noticeably more stylish then your last one.

Zalgar: Yes, isn’t it!

Brain: And is this real leather upholstery? It must have cost you a week’s pay.

Zalgar: (beaming with pride of ownership) I know it was an indulgence, but sometimes having the best is worth the... (suddenly suspicious) Say, you wouldn’t be trying to distract me with flattery, would you?

Brain: It would be futile to attempt such an obvious ploy on someone of your intelligence.

Zalgar: That’s good, because it would never... (even more suspicious; he gives Brain his undivided attention.) Wait a minute; you’re doing it again!

Brain: That would be pointless, since there is no appreciable probability of success.  Zalgar: No, there isn’t, so don’t even think about trying it!

Thing 3: (finally noticing the warning light) Ceptain! Ve have an incoming...

Zalgar: Not now, Thing 3! Now listen, you mendacious mouse, if I ever catch you even trying such an insulting tactic as that, I’ll...

Thing 3: Ceptain! Ve are on a collision course!

Zalgar: (his head coming about 180 degrees) WHAT?

(The approaching missile is now visible through the viewscreen.)

Zalgar: (frantically yanking back the wheel, dislodging Thing 4) Evasive action!

(The gastricship dives steeply, barely avoiding the missile. Thing 4 goes THUD against the ceiling, head-spikes breaking off and flying like projectiles. Brain dodges his head as one spike impales his chair back, just where his neck had been. As the ship levels off, Brain pulls the spike loose with his teeth, drops it behind his own back, starts to rub his wrist bindings against it. Thing 4 unsteadily picks itself up off the floor.)

Zalgar: Drat! We must be within range of the human’s primitive radar systems. Thing 3, decrease our altitude, and change course to approach from the oceanside.

Thing 3: But Ceptain, it vill take us twice as long to get there.

Zalgar: (settling back in his chair in a self-satisfied way) Oh, we have time. The shuttle launch isn’t until afternoon. In the meanwhile, Brain and I can pass the time discussing culinary matters. (Zalgar looks toward Brain, who turns a bit sideways to better conceal the spike.) So, would you like to hear accounts of memorable cerebrums I’ve dined upon?

Brain: (haughty tones of a connoisseur) Personally, I prefer a well-aged stilton, accompanied by a fine beaujolais.

Zalgar: Stilton? Do you mean (with total disgust) cheese? Partially-decomposed bovine secretions? Repulsive stuff! (From-the-back view of Brain as he continues to rub. As the bindings are severed, he  keeps his hands where they are, gripping the spike.)

Brain: Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Zalgar.

Zalgar: I’ve tried them all- do you forget I’m an interstellar gourmet? (counting off on his fingers) I’ve imbibed provolone, brie, remoudou, wensleydale, chedam, edelpilzkase...

Brain: (murmuring, as Zalgar prattles on down the list) I’m going to need another diversion soon; eventually he’s going to run out of cheeses.

(In the Z Files car, Moldy lowers his cell phone grimly.)

Moldy: Carnival reports they fired at the bogey but missed. (checking his scope) And now it’s dropped off the radar screens.

Skullbone: We know he was heading toward the shuttle base. Our most promising course of action would be to continue in that direction.

Moldy: Agreed. Let’s just hope we’re not too late.

Pinky: (chewing his fingernails to the quick, as he pictures what Brain would look like without a brain. Pretty gruesome.) I hope so too!

(Outside shot of the gastricship, now flying so near to the sea it skims the waves.)

Zalgar VO: Now this is the way to approach undetected! All we have to do is keep close to the ocean surface, and we’ll pass for a somewhat unusual-looking water craft.

(Interior shot: Zalgar so relaxed he’s tilted his chair to the reclining position, resting his feet on the steering wheel, as he contemplates the ocean view.)

Zalgar: And once we’ve docked on the shore, it will be an easy matter for my diminutive minions to sneak aboard the shuttle, and convert it’s cargo of ozone-replacement into ozone-denaturing gas!

Brain: (under his breath) Thank you, Mr. Exposition.

Zalgar: (licking his chops as he glances toward Brain) And then; it will finally be time for my well-deserved...

Thing Two: Captain! Look!!

(The viewscreen is being obscured by a huge spouting mountain of whale. Zalgar and his Things do the standard Loony Toons freakout scream, before Zalgar grabs the wheel and spins it hard to port.)

(Outside shot of the ship turning on it’s side, barely missing the great beast. Inside, the bridge tilts violently and the whole crew falls from their chairs, a la Star Trek. As the interior straightens, Brain slips off his straps, drops to the console base with spike in hand, and pries open the repair access.)

Brain: Thank you, Greenpeace! (He darts into the console interior, latching the door behind him. The console interior is a mass of relays and circuitry, with a recognizable steering column running down the middle. Brain regards it like a familiar territory.)

Brain: Zalgar’s civilization appears to have produced system components very similar to those of the space shuttle- a most interesting example of convergent technology. (He gets to work rearranging stuff, using the spike as needed.)

(Back on the bridge, Zalgar and the Things climb painfully back to their stations. But just as Zalgar is regaining his equilibrium, he starts, seeing Brain’s empty chair.)

Zalgar: (angrily) The prisoner has escaped! Thing 2! Thing 4!  Find him at once!  (Thing 2 and the de-pointed Thing 4 draw weapons and fan out to search.) He won’t get far; there’s no way he can leave the ship. (On screen, the shuttle launch pad starts to come into view.) Ah, there’s my objective at last! Well, strictly speaking, my means to an end, which is itself a means to another end, but let’s not be pedantic.

(Inside the console, Brain completes the assembly of his own navigation station, with a bent wire for a steering wheel and the miniature TV serving as his view screen. Just one thing left to do; he goes over to the original steering column, which has buttons marked ‘Disconnect Steering Shaft’ and ‘Reconnect Steering Shaft  [Warning: Stand Clear of Console Until Reconnection Is Complete].’)

(Things 2 and 4 report back to Zalgar)

Thing 2: Sir! Search results are negative, Sir.

Zalgar: Negative!? Then you haven’t looked hard enough, imbeciles! Brain has to be in here somewhere!

(Brain pushes the ‘Disconnect’ button, and the column separates in the middle. Zalgar sees the ‘Steering Inoperable’ panel starting to flash.)

Zalgar: (suddenly very calm) I think we’ve just located him.

Brain: (pulling back hard on his steering wheel) Now to make us more conspicuous.

(The ship swerves into a vertical climb; Zalgar and the Things fall shrieking to the far end of the bridge. Brain twists the wheel to send the ship into a roll; Zalgar and the Things tumble like clothes in a dryer.)

(On the ground, crowds of spectators gathered for the shuttle-launch watch appreciatively as the gastricship does stunt-flying all over the sky.)

Spectator One: I thought the launch wasn’t until 2PM!

Spectator Two: Funny, it doesn't look that round on television.

Spectator Three: Wow! Gnarly air show, dude!

(Finally, Brain levels out and sets the course for a gradual decent.)

Brain: That display should get us some attention from the military. But I can’t keep this up indefinitely; I have to contact someone on the ground.

(At the back of the bridge, Zalgar extracts himself from a tangle of Things.)

Zalgar: I’ve decided it isn’t enough to eat that little fellow’s brain. I’m going to turn the rest of him into pate!

(He marches purposefully to the console, points out the repair access to the assembling Things.)

Zalgar: Listen up, Things: our navigational console has a serious mouse infestation. Get in there and bring him out!

(Thing 1 salutes and prepares to apply his can opener to the access.)

Thing 1: (to other Things) Be ready to pull me out of there.

(Thing 2 grasps Thing 1’s belt, the remaining Things anchor Thing 2. Thing 1 begins cutting into the door. Noticing this, Brain goes to the entrance, uses his spike to cut a live electrical wire, and applies the sparking end to the can opener’s tip.)

(As Zalgar watches, an electrical field envelops the four Things; they light up and shake as they short out, then crumble into useless blackened heaps.)

Zalgar: (planting fists on hips) Oh, that’s just great!

(In the Z Files car, the gastricship blip has reappeared on the scope.)

Moldy: There he is! He’s heading inland.

(Skullbone punches up a Florida map on her laptop, a dotted line showing the ship’s course; a looping tangle in the Cape Carnival area, then a straight heading toward Orlando. A car-shaped blip [labeled ‘You Are Here’] shows the agent’s location; just about directly in the line.)

Skullbone: What could he want in central Florida?

Pinky: Maybe Zalgar likes orange juice with his meals? (doubletake) Poit! I really spoke without thinking that time!

Moldy: (frowning at scope) I don’t know about his intentions, but that ship is losing altitude. There could be trouble aboard.

Skullbone: (removing an Interstellar Communications cell phone from the glove compartment) I’ll see if I can listen in on them.

(She tries to tune it, getting lots of static.)

(Aboard, the furious Zalgar uses a scorched can opener-weapon to smash a dial in the console, making a hole. Brain is forced to flee his improvised navigational station as shattered glass rains down. Zalgar puts his whole arm through the hole and starts groping around; Brain is hard-pressed to stay out of reach. The hand tears loose circuitry and crushes components, but Zalgar persists.)

Zalgar: All right, the game is up, Brain. Surrender now, and I might be merciful. (aside) Though that’s highly unlikely.

(Brain dodges behind the separated steering column. Noticing that Zalgar’s hand is getting close to the ‘Reconnect Steering Column’ button, he maneuvers his tail to tap invitingly on Zalgar’s fingers.)

Zalgar: AHHA!

(Zalgar’s hand grabs for the tail, instead depresses the ‘Reconnect’ button. The warning label was there for a good reason; the lower part of the column reconnects with such force it drives the steering wheel up into Zalgar’s kisser, rendering him unconscious in the usual Looney Toons fashion. Stars and galaxies swirl around his head, then his feet go high in the air as he flops over.)

(Brain pops out of the hole and hurries to the Communications station to switch on the speaker.)

Brain: Gastricship to Earth.

(In Z Files car, the cell phone starts to speak.)

Brain’s Voice: Gastricship to Earth.

Pinky: (gleeful) That’s Brain! (seizing the phone) Brain! Are you all right?

Brain: (pleasantly surprised) Pinky! Where are you?

Pinky: I’m in a big car on a highway in central Florida, with agents.. (suddenly disconcerted) Oh no!

(Through the front windshield, Pinky catches sight of the descending spacecraft, heading in the same direction that an ‘Orlando’ exit sign is pointing.)

Pinky: We can see your ship coming down, Brain! You’re heading straight for Orlando!

(On board, an aerial view of Disney World, with it’s artificial lake, rapidly expands to fill the viewscreen. Brain is tugging a toggle switch marked ‘Emergency Rudder Control.’)

Brain: I know, Pinky. Unfortunately, most of this ship’s navigational system is currently in an unusable condition. The best I can do is try to point it toward that small lake.

Moldy: (reclaiming the cell phone) We’ll meet you there! (He swerves the car to get onto the exit ramp, barely making it.)

Brain: Who was that?

(But he doesn’t have time to wonder about it now; a groggy Zalgar is rising from the floor. Brain ducks behind the speaker.)
Zalgar: I’ll make mincemeat outta that... (He snaps to full alertness when he catches the view on the screen; the lake is coming up fast.)

Zalgar: Time to abandon ship! (Zalgar springs into the navigator’s chair, struggles to fasten the seat belt.) Come on, this is an
inappropriate moment to malfunction!

(Taking advantage of Zalgar’s distraction, Brain quickly jumps to the floor, then into the chair, tucking himself out of sight under the belt. Just in time, Zalgar gets it fastened and yanks on the chair’s ‘Eject’ lever. The ceiling opens and the chair shoots out.)

(Outside shot of the chair clearing the ship, and of a cheerfully-striped parachute sprouting from the chair top. Swinging
slightly, Zalgar watches as the gastricship plows into the Disney World lake, sending up a huge splash and coming ashore in a crumpled condition. A crowd of tourists on the bank applaud the show.)

(Unnoticed, Brain climbs the back of the chair to the parachute attachment, as Zalgar soliloquizes.)

Zalgar: I’ve lost my ship and my robot Things, and I’m about to be stranded on one of the most unfashionable planets in this galaxy, but at least Brain is out of my life forever!

Brain: (inserting his feet in the ring where the parachute strings attach, and grasping the pull-out bolt which attaches the ring to the chair) Oh, I wouldn’t say that.

Zalgar: (looking up)  HUH?!

(Brain yanks out the bolt, detaching the chair. Zalgar defies gravity for a few seconds as he frantically tries to grasp Brain, but his chair falls, stretching out the seat belt, and he’s pulled down after it.)


Brain: (gripping parachute strings with one hand, waving sardonically with the other) Au revoir, Zalgar!

(Still shrieking, Zalgar plummets through the roof of a building marked ‘Employee Costuming.’  In the background, Brain floats to a safe landing atop the ‘Earful Tower’ [that being the famous water tower with the big black mouse ears.])

(Inside the building, Zalgar fights his way out of a huge pile of colorful costumes. He breaks the surface wearing an orange jester hat, a big turquoise bow tie, and a highly irate expression. The combination gives him some resemblance to Mr. Jinks.)

Zalgar: I detest that mouse to an inordinate degree!

(A couple sturdy staff members appear, dressed in ‘Fools Festival’ costumes.)

Staffer: Yeah, don’t we all. But you can’t hang around in here any longer, Mac. The ‘Hunchback of Chartres’ parade is just about to start.

(The staffers take Zalgar by the arms and drag him off.)

Zalgar: (bug-eyed with fear) No! No! Anything but that!

(At lakeside, the Z Files car screeches to a halt.  Pinky and the agents hurry out to look at the wreaked spacecraft.)

Moldy: Now what story are we going to concoct to explain this to the witnesses?

Skullbone: You’re forgetting where we are, Moldy. (She nods toward the no-more-then-slightly-interested tourists strolling by, most of them in a hurry to get somewhere else.)  I don’t think anybody’s even going to report it.

Pinky: But where is Brain? (Looks anxiously around, spots the new, much smaller set of ears on the water tower.) There he is!  (Hurries off to join him)

(Front view of Brain, seated comfortably on the tower’s apex, looking at something below with evident pleasure.)

Pinky: (scrambling up behind him) Brain!

Brain: (turning happily) Pinky!

(Pinky hugs him joyfully; for once Brain doesn’t object.)

Pinky: Oh, Brain, I was so worried about you! (feeling Brain’s head to make sure) You’ve still got your lovely large cranium!

Brain: Yes, I do, Pinky. (tactfully extracting himself) How did you manage to find me?

Pinky: I had help, from two wonderful new friends! You’ve just got to meet them.

Brain: (returning to his seat) Not right this minute, Pinky. First, let’s watch the parade.

Pinky: (enthusiastically) Narf!  Oh, it feels good to say that again!

(He settles down beside Brain.)

(Pullback shot to show the parade, a recreation of the ‘Topsy Turvey’ number from Disney’s ‘Hunchback’ movie; crowded with jugglers, acrobats, and all kinds of gaudily-dressed street performers. And no wonder Brain is enjoying the spectacle: Zalgar is caught in the middle of it, desperately trying to get out. But the performers keep pushing him back in; “Get back to your position, bud!”  Zalgar gets a whole set of very hard juggling balls dropped onto his head, is knocked down and trampled by stilt-walkers, has a row of tumblers come at him and has to step very high to avoid them [maybe it looks a lot like John Cleese’s ‘funny walk’?], and so forth. As a final insult, he’s caught between two very large marching drums that clunk him on the noggin from both sides as once. Mocking images of Brain orbit his head, and Zalgar begins to smile and laugh insanely...)

(... and is still doing it as the surrounding scenery changes to a holding cell at Z Files headquarters. Zalgar is in a straitjacket; Agents Moldy and Skullbone are standing outside the cell conferring with the agency doctor.)

Moldy: Has he made any reference at all to mutant viral strains, government conspiracies, or more organ-shaped ships on the way to Earth?

Zalgar: (clearly mad) Earth! Yes, yes; I want to eat the earth! And take over the Brain! HaHaHaHa!

Doctor: No, all he’s done since he got here is babble that kind of stuff. (sotto voice) And  he’s been expressing strong antipathy toward... a certain rodent.

Skullbone: A mouse?

Zalgar: (eyes turning bright red)  MOUSE!   I Hate That Mouse!  I Want To Fillet That Mouse And Par-Broil Him And Eat Him!  I  HATE HIM! AAAAAARRRRRGGGGG!

Doctor:  But it’s not difficult to deduce the source of that fixation, considering where you found him.

(Moldy and Skullbone exchange looks.)

Moldy: There’s no mystery there. (Play a few bars of scary Z Files music.)

(Outside shot of Acme Lab.)

Pinky VO: It was really nice of Moldy and Skullbone to give us a ride home, wasn’t it?

(The mice are tidying up the lab a bit. Brain, somewhat subdued with fatigue, cleans the unsightly mouse tracks off the the PC keyboard with a cotton swab, while Pinky polishes a tape-dispenser to a fine sheen.)

Brain: Yes, Pinky. Also fortuitous that they decided, whether we’re of extra-terrestrial origin or not, we pose no threat to the planet. (Beat)  By the way, Pinky, I appreciate your not telling them about my megalomaniacal ambitions.

Pinky: (checking out his reflection in the dispenser) Well, it just never came up in conversation.

Brain: Thank you anyway.(Job completed, Brain discards the swab and yawns widely.)

Pinky: (with parental concern) You look tired, Brain.

Brain: (rubbing eyes) I guess I am. It’s been a long day.

Pinky: (escorting the drooping Brain to the cage) Yes, and you’ve had all that excitement, haven’t you? The parade, and meeting new friends, and being kidnapped, and saving the world from evil aliens.

Brain: (groggily settling into his bed) That was a rather full schedule.

Pinky: (tucking him in) So you just rest up for tomorrow night.

Brain: (barely conscious) Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night?

Pinky: You really are tired. Okay, I’ll say it this time. (Raises a fist, does a decent Brain imitation) ‘The same thing we do every night- try to take over the world!’  HaHa! Good one, eh, Brain?  Brain...?

(Looks down to see that Brain is sound asleep.)

Pinky: (smiling fondly) I admit, it’s not as good as my Yakko impression.


Pinky: (finger across mouth) Ssshhhh!  You wanna keep it down?

      they’re pinky and the brain, brain, brain, brain, brain.  (Close iris on Brain, looking extraordinarily cute.)


This is an amateur work and not intended to infringe on the rights of Warner Brothers, Amblin Entertainment, or any other ‘Pinky and the Brain’  copyright holder.
 In other words: Please don’t sue me; I’m not making any money off of this.


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