//------------------------------//
// Now For Something Completely Different  
// Story: Screwed Up 
// by A friendly face 
//------------------------------//

I welcomed the stranger into my home with open arms. I knew I wasn't the only one in this godforsaken town who turned! Now I have proof! I wonder who it is.

"Hank?" Asked the stranger.

"How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Donny, unfortunately. Then again,there's a lot of Screwball in here too, so I'm starting to lose track."

"Zat-I mean-THat isn't good, how long haff-sorry-haVE you been like this? My apologies about THe accent, THis toungue IS on autopilot."

"Geez, that sucks. It happened at like, well, this morning.

"How are you already so fah gone? How long haVE you been running? Are you hungry?"

"Brain damage and reality warping, given the time on the clock, eight hours, and yes, STARVING."

"Okay...so how are We going to get to New York?"

"New York? now does NOT seem like the time for a road trip."

"Check z-THe news. We need to go to New York to help z-THe elements."

"Okay, whatever you say."

Good, he believes this insane bunch of insanity. I wonder what Screwball is like? I haven't seen her on the show, but I'm sure Donny's going to be fine. He's capable of withstanding three continuous nights of nothing but Doctor Who and cartoons, he can handle an existential crisis. Maybe. No, of course he can, or my name isn't Hank Onager (it is). 'Course my boss is gonna kill me, and there are more than a few people in town who'd love nothing more than to wring our necks, but hey, life y'know. I just wish I could get the television working. I wanna watch a Bond flick before we head out. Now, where did Donny go?

"Donny! Where are you?"

>>HI, MY NAME IS-WHAT-MY NAME IS-WHO-MY NAME IS-CHICKACHICKA SLIM SHADY<<

Oh, no, he turned on the stereo. My brother really needs to not leave it turned up so high, it's dreadfully loud and I am developing noise sickness. I'd better go teach Donny how to work a stereo system before he does something stupid, like accidentally get into the *audible shudder* Gangster Rap.

>>MY BRAIN'S DEAD WEIGHT, TRYNA...<<

"PLEASE TURN OFF THAT RACKET!!"

*off*

"Sorry, I bumped into the button, and it just started blasting."

"It's okay, just don't do it again."

"Got it."

Now that that ordeal is settled, I can warn him about the trip. My brother will be taking us, and I really do hope he brings a more...tasteful and varied selection of driving music. He gets terrible road rage when he listens to Eminem. Any other rap is just painful to listen to. In fact, I think that's him now. The door opened, and he popped in and immediately...picked me up and hugged  me. Unexpected, but I'm not one to judge. He can be quite the friendly guy when he isn't listening to rap and hip hop.

"Lil' bro, I missed you so much, and now I can't see your lil' bro face. Looked just like mine, now you went and turned into pony lady gaga. Damn."

Yep, same old bro. The most charming narcissist you'll ever meet.

"Say, do you mind one more?"

"A lil' bro friend? Sure, 'snothin'."

"Okay. Donny, come on in."

Donny bounded into the room with a skip in his (her?) step.

"Is this your illustrious brother?"

"Yours, truly, lil' bro friend. The dis got you too? you look like a hypnotist."

What?

"Cool, We're really going to New York?"

"Train leaves tomorrow lil' bro friend."

"Awww, I wanna go now."

"Sorry, I can't drive cross country, we gotta catch a train. I know the guy who runs the booth, he'll hook us up."

"Nice."

Okay, now to ask the most important question of the night. Here goes.

"Can We Watch a Bond moVie tonight?"

"I'll grab the popcorn and drinks, you two pick the flick."

This day just became somewhat less of a nightmare. I at least get to enjoy the exploits of secret agent of the MI-6, code name: 007.

Just like old times.

"Which one first?"

Just like oooold tiiiimes.

"Whatever one has the most explosions."

"You'VE got It, buddy.