Sam and Max raise a filly Trixie while solving mysteries.
Magician pulls rabbit out of hat? Standard. Rabbit pulls magician out of hat? Not so standard. Psychotic lagomorph pulls filly magician with delusions of grandeur out of hat? Normal for here. Lagomorph can't/won't put her back? Sounds like a case for the Freelance Police.
Sam and Max have handled many big cases, and their biggest are yet to come. However, it looks like there's someone else along for the ride...someone who refuses to be sidelined, is eager for the spotlight...and is too cute not to spoil rotten.
Sam lay back in his chair, glancing around the office. Max had gone down to Bosco's Inconvenience Store for some corn dogs and sodas, leaving Sam to twiddle his paws in the office. Getting to his paws, he stretched his hands and arms over his head as he wandered around the office to examine a few of the things scattered around from past cases.
"Hmm...Jessie James' hand," he muttered to himself as he examined the hand mounted over the closet door. "I don't know why I keep looking at it. Rather gruesome in its own way." Shrugging his shoulders, he straightened his blue tie as he smoothed out his blue business suit and straightened his hat. Sitting back down, the canid began bouncing a ball against a nearby wall, catching it in his mouth as it returned to him.
As he threw the ball for the 12th time, the office door swung open. "Sam!" Max called out eagerly, his long ears waving around his head as he grinned widely, showing all his sharp teeth as he always did. "Look what I found!"
Sam examined his lifelong lagomorph companion, from his pure white body to his beady black eyes, his sharply pointed ears and the strange top hat clutched in his hands. "Max, I thought you were getting corn dogs and sodas."
"I forgot my wallet," Max explained casually, "and Bosco wasn't in the mood to accept bullets as an alternative payment plan. But check this out!" He held up the hat. "I found it outside Bosco's store! It's a magician's hat!"
Sam raised an eyebrow. "How do you know it's a magician's hat? Is his head still inside?"
"Sadly, no," Max admitted. "But look at it! Can't you see the eldritch glow of ancient powers which we mere mortals were never meant to fool with?"
Sam gently took the hat from Max's hands. Holding it up, he turned it over in his hands, sniffing here and there to get a better sense of the hat. "I'm afraid not, pal. It just looks like an ordinary hat to me."
"Oh Sam, you're such a philistine," Max chided, shaking his head. "Haven't you learned to use your imagination yet?"
"I've got you for that, Max," Sam replied, smiling as he leaned back in his chair once more. "So does this mean you're going to try to do some magic?"
"Of course!" Max proclaimed, holding the hat out one handed with the open end up. "Behold," he proclaimed, waving his hand over the hat, "as the great Maximilian Vermicelli performs the most stupefying feats of preposterous prestidigitation as ever seen by people's eyes!"
Sam chuckled. "Well, Mr. Pasta, what will you be doing? Will you be pulling a rabbit out of your hat?" He snickered a bit at that.
"Oh ye of little dreams!" Max bemoaned. "No, this rabbit...is going to pull a magician out of his hat!"
Sam grinned. "I'll believe that when I see it!"
"Bet you 20 bucks I can!" Max said quickly.
"You crack me up, little buddy. You're on!"
Grinning, Max waved his hand over the open hat. "Abara Kadabara, Presto Chango, Mumbo Jumbo Mystic Mambo! By the craftings of the ancient gods, powers of the multiverse obey my will! Come forth, magician Great and Powerful!" With that, he thrust his hand into the hat.
When he pulled his hand out, he clutched a tiny, pale blue equine with big purple eyes, a paler blue and white mane and tail, wearing a purple pointed hat and cape - both with a star scattered design - the cape held clasped by a perfectly carved sapphire, a spiral horn rising from the center of her forehead, and clutching a teddy bear and a toy wand in her forelegs. She looked around nervously as Max held her.
Sam sat up. "Okay, Max, I'll pay up...if you tell me where you got that creature and why you'd dress her up like that."
"Honestly Sam, I have no idea," Max admitted. "I've never seen her before in my life."
"Why is the doggy talking?" the filly asked in confusion.
"Yeah, he does that way too much," Max agreed. "I've been trying to shut him up for years."
"Great galloping gorgons grabbing Greek gorgonzola!" Sam gasped out. "Max, that little unicorn is talking!"
The filly frowned at Sam. "That little unicorn is the Gweat and Powaful Twixie!" she proclaimed with a pout.
"By all the gods Sam, she's adorable!" Max said happily. "Can we keep her?"
Sam frowned. "I don't know, little buddy. We really shouldn't..."
Trixie turned her face to Max. "Are...are you my Daddy?"
"Hnng..." Sam mumbled, clutching his chest.
Max smiled widely. "I am now," he said, pulling her close into a warm hug.
"Hnng!" Sam said again, sitting down as he clutched his chest in both hands.
Trixie snuggled into Max's embrace. "I...I have a Daddy now," she whispered. She closed her eyes, holding back tears. "I'm home..."
Sam flopped backwards as his tongue flopped out of his mouth, his head lolling back on his neck.
Grinning, Max pulled out a Taser. "Clear!" he shouted, before shooting the electrified probes into Sam's chest.
As Sam flailed convulsively from the electricity shooting through his body, restarting his heart, Trixie smiled. "I think I'll like it here..."
Later that night, Sam rolled over in his bed in their apartment on the first floor of their office building. He glanced at where Max was curled up in his bed, sleeping peacefully. Normally, Max curled up with his gun clutched in his hand, but tonight he held Trixie carefully in his arms. She had left her wizard's hat and robe on a coatrack, though she still clutched her teddy bear.
Sam had tried to question Trixie a bit after Max had restarted his heart. All he'd been able to learn, though, was confirmation of what he'd already guessed: Trixie was an orphan, a unicorn, claimed to be a pony, and had irrefutably imprinted on Max as her Daddy. He'd lost any hope of fighting this situation when she'd called him 'Uncle Sam'.
So now the two of them - a straight laced, gun toting, violence inclined, over enthusiastic cop barely removed from being a violent thug, and a lagomorph - were responsible for raising a magically empowered infant from another dimension....and raising the little girl right.
"God help us all," Sam muttered under his breath.
"God is no match fow the Gweat and Powaful Twixie..." Trixie mumbled in her sleep.
"Make him eat sacrilege, snookums," Max mumbled dreamily, nuzzling Trixie's mane.
"You two crack me up, little buddies," Sam commented, curling up for sleep.
Trixie yawned hugely as she awoke the following morning, arching her back like a cat as she stretched. She gently positioned her teddy bear, Major Ursa, by her new Daddy's pillow. Hopping down from the bed she kicked the coatrack lightly. Her hat and cloak fell from it, and she deftly caught them on her head and back respectively, hooking the cloak behind the clasp. That would have to do for today, as neither her Daddy nor her Uncle were visible to give her a proper bath. Idly wondering where they were, she left the bedroom and headed up the stairs to check the office.
"You broke the dartboard again, Max," Sam was saying calmly.
"But you said it was good to get a bullseye!" Max replied.
"With darts, not bullets."
"Well, if the station gave us back our darts-"
"Daddy!" Trixie interrupted. "Twixie is hungry!"
Sam chuckled as Max scooped Trixie into a morning hug. "Well, we need to head down to Bosco's anyway to get a new dartboard. Might as well pick up some food for Trixie while we're out."
"Think Bosco will have something she can eat?" Max asked as he set Trixie down after she nuzzled his chin.
"I'd rather find something I'd trust to put into her stomach," Sam pointed out. "She's just a filly, after all."
"So...Stinky's then?" Max asked.
Sam thought about that for a bit. "Let's see what Bosco has, shall we?"
Trixie didn't fully understand what they were talking about, so she stamped her hoof. "The Gweat and Powaful Twixie demands food!" she proclaimed, her horn sparking slightly from her vehemence.
Sam blinked. "Trixie, why are sparks coming from your horn?"
"Maybe she's an electric type!" Max suggested. "Quick, Sam, get a Thunder Stone!"
Trixie harrumphed. "The Gweat and Powaful Twixie will answer questions after Twixie gets food!"
"Alright, alright," Sam sighed, donning his hat. "Come on, let's go hit Bosco's."
"Hit his what?" Max asked quickly, only to get an eye roll from Sam and a giggle from Trixie.
As the three entered Bosco's Inconvenience, Trixie glanced around. The first thing she noticed was that everything on the shelves was under lock and chain, not to mention looking rather unsightly. At her eye level by the register were several magazines that would have been inappropriate for one her age if any of the things they discussed made sense to her. She could not understand the appeal of the coverart on 'Playbunny Monthly', and 'Internal Organs Weekly' was beyond her child level comprehension.
"Oh great, it's you two!" a voice proclaimed.
Trixie looked up towards the voice. She saw a somewhat overweight human male with purple/brown skin, purple hair, eyebrows, and beard, bald on top, with tiny black eyes and a furtive frown on his face. He was wearing a yellow t shirt with green edges at neckline and sleeve edge, with a nametag that read 'Bosco' on the left breast. She could not see behind the counter he was standing behind to see if he was wearing pants.
"What do you two want-" he started to say, then gasped as he saw Trixie. "Oh no! It's a Faustian Beast(1)! They sent her after me! I ain't going nowhere! Keep her away! Don't let her get me!"
Trixie scoffed. "The Gweat and Powahful Twixie works for no one! She does not get, others get for the Gweat and Powahful Twixie!"
The man - Bosco, Trixie presumed - took another look at her. "Gawd, she's adorable!" he proclaimed, leaning over to pet her. "So what can I 'get' for you, oh Great and Powerful One?" He gave a playful bow.
Trixie thought for a time. "...can Twixie have some candy?"
Bosco chuckled. "Here you go," he said, unwrapping a lollipop for her and holding it out. Trixie eagerly caught the sucker in her mouth and yanked it out of his grip, holding the stick with both forehooves as she sat back to suck on it.
Sam cleared his throat. "Bosco, we want to buy something."
Bosco turned back to the canid. "Whadda ya want?" he slurred.
Sam tapped his chin. "Do you have any...parsnips in the shape of famous evangelists?"
"Nope!" Bosco replied.
Sam continued his inquiry. "Do you have any...polka dot rutabagas?"
"Nope!"
"Do you have any...varsity track and field trophies?"
"Nope!"
"I bet he doesn't!" Max cracked.
"I could still whoop your fluffy butt any day of the week!" Bosco countered.
"Bring it on!" Max responded eagerly, getting into a boxing pose.
Sighing, Sam continued. "Do you have any..."
"Bwack markers, blank cardboard, and a bottle of thumbtacks?" Trixie asked suddenly.
Bosco blinked. "Yeah, I do have those." Reaching behind the counter, he handed them over to her.
She accepted them. "Gonna play outside!" she said to Sam and Max. Lighting up her horn, she levitated the objects out the door.
"How'd she do that?" Bosco demanded in shock.
"No idea," Sam replied. "She refuses to answer questions until she gets fed."
"So we came down for food for her," Max continued. "And a new dartboard."
"Well why didn't you say so?" Bosco demanded. "I have just what you need behind the counter! And it's all yours for $1000."
"A thousand bucks for filly food and a dartboard?" Sam demanded. "That's highway robbery!"
"And we should know!" Max added. "It's how we pay for most of the stuff we buy from you!"
"$1000," Bosco affirmed. "Take it or leave it."
Sam looked down at Max. "Guess we'd better go write up some tickets then."
"Guess so-" Max began, only to stop as Trixie came back in. "Hey Trixie, have fun playing?"
"Trixie had fun," she replies, idly brushing her mussed up mane with the hoof that wasn't stained with black ink. She then looked up at Sam. "Where is food?"
"We need to go get $1000 to pay for it," Sam pointed out.
Frowning, Trixie pulled her hat off. Reaching inside, she pulled out a bundle of 50 $20 bills. "Is this the wight amount?"
Sam and Max both stared. Bosco counted the money. "Yup, that's right," he said. Reaching behind the counter, he pulled out a massive box of canned, organic, vegetarian baby food, along with an equally sized box of canned, organic, vegetarian toddler food with whole pieces of vegetables and fruit. "These ought to hold her until she's on solid food with a full mouth of teeth, and by then she should be able to eat anything you serve her." He placed a dartboard on top. "I'll even throw in a box of darts, free of charge since you had the money so quick."
Sam and Max each took one of the crates. "Thanks Bosco!" Sam said, grunting under the weight. Trixie, for her part, levitated the dartboard and box of darts.
"Don't ever say Bosco Tech never gave your money's worth!" Bosco called after them. "But don't tell anyone I'm here!"
"Say Trixie," Max grunted as he carried the crate, "how'd you get all that money?"
"Twixie plays gooder,(2)" Trixie pointed out, as though it explained everything.
Sam rolled his eyes. "We'll talk back at the office."
Back at the office, Trixie refused to answer more questions until she had been fed. Once she had been fed, she smiled happily. "So...what wisdom can the Gweat and Powahful Twixie dispense unto you mewe mowtals?" she offered expansively, causing Max to let off a happy cackle.
"Why was your horn sparking earlier?" Sam asked. "And how did you levitate those things Bosco gave you?"
Trixie rolled her eyes. "Magic," she stated, as though it explained everything. Max, for his part, followed that up by snorting twice, which made Trixie giggle.
Sam blinked. "Wait...you can use magic? How? Why?"
Trixie stared at him flat eyed. "Because the Gweat and Powahful Twixie is a unicown," she stated. "She thought that had been obvious." She flicked her mane back to more prominently display her horn. As she did, she energized her magic to fling one of the darts at the dartboard...only for it to miss, ricochet off the wall, bounce off the edge of the water tank, and nearly impale the fish inside. "Twixie meant to do that!" Trixie insisted quickly.
The fish - who Trixie would later learn was named Mr. Spatula - glared spitefully at her.
Max grinned widely. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"
Sam took careful aim with his trusty revolver at his friend at the opposite room. "Now remember, Trixie," he said to the diminutive pony in his lap. "The goal is for you to curve the bullet's flight to get as close to Max as possible without hitting him."
Trixie flipped her mane up in playful disdain. "Of course. The Great and Powerful Trixie knows exactly what she's doing!" After the first month staying with them, her teeth had developed more fully and she no longer slurred her 'r's, much to Sam and Max's disappointment. "But...maybe a few could hit? Daddy makes such funny noises when he has to catch bullets with his teeth."
"That's my girl!" Max said happily.
Sam chuckled. "Well, one or two, I suppose. Just nowhere vital."
"Say Sam," Max asked, "any idea when we're going to get another case? Surely the local lawbreakers must miss our esoteric brand of personalized criminal justice. Besides, I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of copper Trixie will be."
"A Great and Powerful one, of course!" Trixie asserted.
"I mean besides that," Max smirked.
Sam shrugged to himself. It was true that they hadn't had a single case since a long while prior to Trixie's arrival in their lives. "Patience is a hard razor to swallow, little buddy," he pointed out. Truthfully, he was just as glad they hadn't had a case until now. It had given all three of them time to get used to Trixie's presence in their lives. Although he, too, was eagerly awaiting a case to see how Trixie would do with their usual activities. He hoped she would do well; he'd hate to have to leave her behind for her own safety.
Right at that moment, the phone rang. "I got it!" Sam and Max both cried out together. However, when they got to where the phone usually was, all they found was a note.
Leave Swiss cheese by the rat hole or you'll never see your precious phone alive again.
"Jiminy Christmas Eve in a padlocked sweatbox!" Sam cried out. "Some misguided ballsy felon has napped our phone!"
"Eerie," Max pointed out. "I just went cheese shopping! How did they know?"
"Be sure it's Swiss cheese, right?" a rat said from the nearby hole. "And be quick ab-wah!"
Trixie, having never seen this rat before, had decided to take a closer look at him by grabbing him with her magic and dragging him into the air. She tried to get a good look at him, but he kept struggling. "Hold still!" she plaintively commanded. "The Great and Powerful Trixie wants a better look at you!" She managed to see a beanie and a pair of dark sunglasses, but not much else.
"Jimmy Two-Teeth don't hold still for coppers!" the rat cried, still struggling, giving Trixie a brief glimpse of two buck teeth at the end of his muzzle. "Put me down! I'm afraid of heights!"
"Hold still before Trixie drops you!" Trixie commanded, making the rat immediately freeze.
"Hey!" Max said, coming up quickly. "Did you take our phone?"
"Uhh...no?" Jimmy offered unconvincingly.
Max grinned. "Trixie? Open window."
Grinning in response, Trixie made her way to the open window, levitating Jimmy towards it.
"Okay okay! Here!" Jimmy yelled out, coughing up the communications device in question, still ringing.
"Trixie's got it!" Trixie called, tossing Jimmy aside as she grabbed the handset in her magic. She winced as his screams of fear echoed from his fall out the window. "Oops."
Sam managed to get the phone away from her, much to her displeasure. "Hello? Yes? Great gouts of steaming magma on a beeline for the orphanage! We're on our way." He promptly hung up the phone.
"Who was on the phone, Sam?" Max asked.
"It was the commissioner, Max," Sam explained. "Multiple reports of malfeasance in the neighborhood."
"Oh joy!" Max cried happily. "That's my second favorite feasance!"
"What's your first?" Trixie asked curiously.
"Misfeasance(1)!" Max supplied quickly.
"How fitting," Sam mumbled. "But there's not time for that. We've got to get down to the corner store right away!"
Trixie smiled widely. "Trixie looks forward to guilting Bosco out of even more candy."
Their trip to Bosco's Inconvenience was uneventful, save for the sight of a strangely dressed, miniature graffiti artist. Once they entered, Sam went up to the counter to give a good impression. "Have no fear, simple citizens! The Freelance Police are here to keep the peace!"
"Violently if possible!" Max added. "You called?"
"It's just you three?" Bosco demanded. "Where's the SWAT team? Where's the National Guard? Where's NASA?"
"They're too busy spying on you," Trixie teased.
"I knew it!" Bosco proclaimed happily.
"Hold on, Bosco," Sam cautioned. "What's the problem?"
"I'll tell you what's the problem!" Bosco stated firmly. "It's a terrorist! A munchkin terrorist!"
"But Trixie hasn't even done anything yet!" Trixie whined.
"Not you, Trixie," Bosco offered comfortingly. "Him!" He pointed at the diminutive human figure dressed identically to the graffiti artist outside.
"Hey!" Max cried eagerly. "It's one of the Soda Poppers! It's Whizzer!"
"Trixie will get him!" she proclaimed. Bracing herself, she charged her magic and starting firing magic bolts at him.
With a cry of shock, Whizzer started running back and forth at amazing speed to dodge the bolts of magic, eventually trying to run out the front door. However, swerving to dodge the last bolt caused the last block of cheese on display to wind up in his mouth. Bosco's security system went off, and a boxing glove dropped down from the ceiling to slam into his head. "Time out for Number 1..." he groaned as he slumped to the floor.
Trixie posed proudly. "No perpetrator can escape the Great and Powerful Trixie-"
"What did you do to my store?" Bosco demanded in shock.
Trixie glanced around. Her bolts of magic had caused quite a bit of damage to the store, leaving smoking scorch marks, broken condiment dispensers, and overturned display cases all around. Swallowing, she looked up sadly at Bosco.
"Aww, it's alright," he hastened to reassure her. "Here, have some candy." He handed over another unwrapped lollipop.
Smiling happily, Trixie eagerly began sucking on it, rapidly losing interest as Sam and Max discussed with Bosco what, exactly, Whizzer had been doing that had got them called in. She eventually finished the sucker when discussion turned to Bosco's security system.
"Say, how come B-TADS didn't stop Trixie from shooting up your store?" Sam asked.
"And Whizzer?" Max asked.
"Because 'magic' isn't listed under its definition of 'weapons'," Bosco admitted sheepishly. "And since she's the only one who uses it, I honestly don't want to fix it. I'd hate to have her get punched in the skull by a machine."
Trixie smiled winsomely up at Bosco, pleased that his gooey eyed reaction proved she still had him wrapped around her hoof. "Got anything special for sale?" she asked.
"Well, I do have something rather interesting behind the counter," Bosco admitted. At Trixie's encouraging smile, he continued. "It's a tear gas grenade launcher."
"Oh, I want one!" Max announced. "Heck, I want ten!"
"How much?" Sam asked.
"That'll be $10,000," Bosco stated bluntly.
Frowning, Trixie pulled her hat off, reached inside, and pulled out a bundle of 100 $100 bills. "Is this enough? Trixie doesn't understand money here, so Trixie put a spell on her hat to handle her money for her."
"Trixie, where did you get all this money?" Sam asked.
"Playing gooder," she explained.
"Okay, now I'm curious. Just what did you do with a black marker, a piece of cardboard, and a clear box of thumbtacks to get so much money?" Max asked. "I wanna try!"
Trixie smiled. "Trixie played good with her feminine whiles," she proclaimed proudly, remembering.
When Trixie had left Bosco's store with those supplies the day after she'd arrived, she had wandered out to the side of the main thoroughfare. Seeing plenty of cars zooming down the way. Placing the box at the edge of the curb, she walked down the road aways before getting to work on her sign. By the time she was finished, her hoof and face both had black marker on them, and the sign was complete.
Hungi Need Munies 4 Fud Please Help
Setting the sign up, she set her hat out open end up, huddled beside the sign cuddled in her cloak, brushed her mane up to cover her horn, and then used her magic to knock the box of tacks over.
It wasn't long before the first car had to stop from a flat, and pulled up right in front of her. Looking up at the man who stepped out with sorrowful, hope filled eyes, and within moments a large sack of money had been dropped into her hat.
Within the next hour, nearly a hundred others had gathered to 'daw' over her adorable self, seeming to compete with each other for who put the most money into her bottomless hat. Internally, she smiled over how easy it was to work the crowd. Somehow, she felt she had always loved giving a spectacular performance.
She never noticed the light that had come from her flank under her cloak, nor ever wondered about the image of the wand trailing stardust that wasn't there earlier that day.
Trixie smiled as she stepped out of her memories in time to accept the tear gas launcher from Bosco. She knew as she slipped it under her hat that she was going to have fun with this...even if it was just a salad shooter loaded with onions.
Although they left Whizzer unconscious on Bosco's floor, they still had no idea why Whizzer had been bringing video tapes to Bosco's store of his own volition. Unwilling to ignore a mystery, Sam grabbed one of the video tapes - the only one still in one piece after Trixie's magical assault - to bring back to the office to watch, hoping to get answers.
As Sam put the video into the VCR, he smiled. "Alright Max, Trixie, are you both ready for an...ocular workout?" The description on the back of the video had not given a very clear explanation of the material.
"No! Stop!" Max cried out, rushing forward. "We don't have any popcorn!"
"And Trixie's horn hurts from blasting Mr. Pee Pee," the azure filly pointed out.
"Sweet alligator dentures soaking in formaldehyde, that was close," Sam replied. "Quick before it starts, popcorn and juice!"
The trio quickly went downstairs to the apartment for popcorn and a box of apple juice for Trixie. By the time they returned to the office, however, the video had played its short segment...and left Jimmy Two-Teeth completely hypnotized!
"We've got to find this Brady Culture before he hypnotizes every consumer of cheap self help videos!" Sam proclaimed.
"Why?" Trixie asked. "People who use those don't really contribute much, do they?"
"Maybe not, but do you really want a crazed madman with access to a brain washed army that size?" Sam queried.
"Only if it's Daddy!" Trixie proclaimed.
Max grinned widely. "Can I have Brady Culture's hair when we're done?"
"Only if you keep it on a leash," Sam cautioned.
"Does that mean Trixie gets to walk it?" Trixie asked eagerly.
Chuckling, Sam led the way out to continue their investigation.
On a hunch, Sam led the trio over to Sybil Pandemik's office, to see if she could give them any leads. However, he was rather unnerved by the one who awaited them. The brightly garbed munchkin rubbed his eyes before greeting them. "Hi, I'm Sybil Pandemik, liscensed psychotherapist. You look like you could use some therapy."
Trixie tilted her head. "You do not look like Sybil," Trixie pointed out. While she hadn't been introduced to the woman in question - who seemed to change occupations on a weekly basis - Max had pointed the career minded woman out before.
"I've been trying out a new look," 'Sybil' replied.
"Trixie can accept that," Trixie replied. "You humans all look alike to Trixie."
"Max, what have you been teaching her?" Sam demanded.
"Only what she needs to know to drive you crazy, Sam."
"I should have known," Sam groaned.
"Hey!" Max called out. "He's one of the Soda Poppers! It's Peepers!"
"I'm not Peepers," 'Sybil' argued. "I'm Sybil Pandemik, licensed psychotherapist."
Sam stroked his chin. "Alright then, 'Sybil'. How about some psychoanalysis?"
"Certainly," the suspicious figure replied happily. "Tell me what's bothering you."
Sam thought for a time. "I've been feeling less frisky than usual."
"Trixie read that happens when grown ups become parents," Trixie interrupted.
"Not that kind of frisky!" Sam insisted as Max cackled.
"Well then," Peepers suggested, "you might try Brady Culture's Eye-bo video - that'll put a spring back in your step. Your eyes, too."
Though Trixie started to get into a combat stance, Sam waved her to stop. "It's just one," he mumbled to her. "There's something else that's been bothering me," he told Peepers as Trixie, despite his directive, began to circle.
"Sure. Tell me what's bothering you," Peepers replied.
Thinking for a bit, Sam spoke again. "Every time I watch television I want to shoot something."
"I thought that was normal?" Max asked, giving Trixie a thumbs up.
"It is," Peepers replied. "But you may want to try Brady Culture's Eye-bo-"
Trixie cut him off by shooting him with the 'tear gas'. As he broke into tears, Max followed up with a boxing glove to the back of the head.
The ruckus bumped the closet door open. "Thank goodness," Sybil said as she stepped out. "I was in there so long I was inventing life stories for the mothballs. I need to sit down." With that, she took a seat behind her desk.
As she sat back in her chair, she finally took notice of the unconscious former child star. "What happened here?"
"He was hypnotized into impersonating you," Trixie proclaimed. "...probably."
"If he was, is there any way to snap him out of it?" Sam asked.
"Well, now that you've knocked him unconscious..." Sybil stroked her chin as she glanced over at Peepers thoughtfully. "Take control of your mind!" she commanded the unconscious form. "Destroy the intruder in your dreams! Regain control!"
Peepers slowly pushed himself back to his feet. "Ugh...what hit me?"
"That would be me," Max piped up.
"Trixie too!"
"Any idea what happened to you?" Sam asked.
Peepers shook his head. "We all checked into Brady Culture's Home for Former Child Stars," he replied. "The next thing I know, I'm waking up here with a killer headache. ...I need to get out of here!" With that, Peepers zipped away out of the office.
"Hmm..." Sam mused, stroking his chin. "This plot is thickening like three day old pea soup atop a volcanic heat vent." He turned to Sybil. "Any suggestions on how to handle other hypnosis victims?"
"Well, once you've rendered them susceptible to new hypnotic input, simply use the same command I used to bring them back to normal," she replied. "In the meantime...how would you like some genuine psychoanalysis?"
"Gee, do you really think I need it?" Sam asked in concern.
"Well, I think we need to talk about your imaginary friend," Sybil said soothingly, gesturing towards Max.
"Wait, I'm imaginary?" Max asked. "Well, that certainly explains a lot."
"D...Daddy's not real?" Trixie asked, a catch in her voice.
Sybil glanced over at Trixie. "Well, he's certainly outside the realm of credulity..."
"But...but Daddy pulled Trixie out of the hat..." Trixie sobbed, moisture beading her eyes. "Does...does that mean Trixie's...not real?"
Seeing that both Sam and Max were starting to become less than tranquil about Trixie's sorrow, Sybil hastened to reassure her. "Not entirely. It's entirely possible that the actions of Max as an imaginary being are somehow enacted by Sam subconsciously in order to reinforce the delusion, for whatever reason he feels he needs it."
Sam blinked in confusion. "But wait, if Max is imaginary, how come you can see him?"
"I'm a trained psychotherapist," Sybil explained. "Comes with the job."
"Then how come Trixie can see me?" Max asked.
"Hmmm..." Sybil thought about that for a time. "I'll have to think on that. It's come across shared delusion in the official literature before, but this is my first encounter with it in person. Give me a chance to read up on it, then come back and I'll give you both some free psychoanalysis. It's the least I can do for saving me."
"Alright," Sam replied. "We'll use the time to see what we can do for the other hypnosis victims."
Seeing how disturbed Trixie was, Max picked her up and carried her out as he followed Sam back to the case.
As the trio headed back towards where they left the unconscious Whizzer, Trixie noticed a graffiti drawing of Brady Culture on the side of their building. She frowned as she stared at it. "If anyone's face should grace our building, it should be the Great and Powerful Trixie's!" she proclaimed. Levitating a few cans of spray paint left nearby, she rapidly painted over the face, leaving her own - somewhat enhanced based on her own perception of herself. She even turned Brady Culture's huge hair into a halo around her drawn face. She stood back to admire her work.
At that moment, another Soda Popper - this one wearing glasses - zipped up in front of her. "Hey!" he complained. "You messed it up! Aw, now I've got to fix it, Brain Freeze!" He turned, pulling out his own spray paint.
Trixie was furious. Not only had this fool insulted her, but now he was going to deface her masterpiece? "Don't touch the Great and Powerful Trixie's art!" she commanded, lunging forward to get between him and her work.
The diminutive humanoid spun to face her. "Huh?" he demanded, just before his altered position caused her to slam into him, knocking the back of his head into the wall. He fell to the ground, limp.
Sam and Max paused as they stared at what had just happened. "So...is that three for three on her first case?" Sam asked.
"Two and a half," Max corrected. "I punched out Peepers after she tear gassed him."
"Still, a good performance for her first case," Sam pointed out. Trixie ducked her head, a pleased blush on her face. "Well, let's break this one's hypnotism."
"Are we sure he was hypnotized?" Max asked. "I mean, he was just painting pictures of a rival former child star who's suspected of a hypnosis conspiracy after having checked into his mental institution. There could be a perfectly rational explanation for that."
"Alright," Sam replied. "Name one."
"He's crazy," Max countered.
"Fair enough," Sam conceded. "But let's check anyway." He cleared his throat. "Regain control of your mind, destroy the intruder in your dreams."
"Snap out of it you big baby!" Max added, just before the former star regained his senses.
"Ugh...what hit me?" he asked.
"Trixie," the filly declared proudly.
"Quick, cluck like a chicken!" Max commanded eagerly.
"No, baa like a sheep!" Trixie proclaimed.
"No, tell us where Brady Culture's Home for Former Child Stars is!" Sam demanded firmly.
"The Home?" the young man asked. "It's at 227...something. Whizzer would remember the street. He always does the driving."
"Can you take us there?" Sam asked.
"Are you kidding? I have hours and hours of ironing to do!" With that enlightening statement, he zipped off.
"Well, that was helpful," Max pointed out blandly.
"Time to wake Mr. Pee Pee then," Trixie sighed. "Wish we didn't have to. He stinks!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
Chuckling at Trixie's pointed commentary, Sam led them back to Bosco's Inconvenience. To their surprise, except for Whizzer's body remaining where it had fallen at the entrance, the store was exactly as it normally was, despite the magical fire fight that had wrecked it before. "How'd you clean up so fast, Bosco?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"That's for me to know, and you not to," Bosco replied.
"Don't you mean 'and for you to find out'?" Max asked.
"Nope!" Bosco affirmed. "By the way, you just gonna leave this guy here?" he asked, gesturing to Whizzer.
"Actually, we've come to break him out of his hypnosis," Sam replied, stepping over the recumbent form before clearing his throat. "Take control of your mind! Destroy the invader in your dreams!"
As Whizzer slowly woke, Max spoke up. "Nicely done Sam," Max complimented. "You're a natural."
"Wh...where am I?" Whizzer asked. "Who are you?"
"Don't worry," Sam reassured. "We're Freelance Police."
"Police! Oh no!" With that, Whizzer was rushing off into the street. The delivery truck outside could be heard starting.
"After him!" Trixie proclaimed. The three rapidly ran to the Desoto.
After a rather short chase down the road - Trixie sending the boxes that fell out of the back of the truck flying with her magic made catching up to it extremely easy - a bullet to the truck's tire forced Whizzer to pull over for questioning.
"Don't shoot!" Whizzer begged.
"Aside from the fact that we just plugged your truck, why would you think we'd shoot you?" Sam asked.
"Except for the obvious sport value, of course," Max pointed out.
"He wouldn't make a very good trophy," Trixie pointed out. "Not with his bladder issues."
"It's just..." Whizzer began. "You always see cops on the news beating up some guy just because he's a former child star."
"How come we don't watch that channel?" Trixie asked.
"Good question," Max agreed.
"We would never dream of hurting a former child star," Sam said reassuringly. "We just need to find the home where Brady Culture keeps them."
"Uncle Sam," Trixie called, having turned around to examine their surroundings. "It's right there." She pointed.
"Jumping elephant fleas!" Sam proclaimed.
"How devilishly convenient!" Max agreed.
On approaching the Home, they learned that, apparently, they only treated patients with 'Artificial Personality Disorder'. There were also entry forms that detailed the symptoms...and were required to open the locked gate to get in.
Sam read off the form. "The symptoms include...obsession with fame..."
Max noticed Trixie posing in a street light as if it were a spotlight.
"...violent reaction to wheels-"
"Wheels?" Trixie demanded, yanking the tear gas launcher out of her hat. "Where? Where?" She spun around, looking for one to shoot.
Sam and Max both stared for a bit. "...and an unconscious desire to conquer one's peers," Sam finished.
"We did want to have Sybil give Trixie that free psychoanalysis," Max pointed out.
"Then we're off to Sybil Pandemik's office," Sam proclaimed.
As they entered the office, Sybil looked up. "Hey Sam, Max, Trixie," she said happily.
"How's it going, Sybil?" Sam asked.
"Well, according to my research, as hard as it is to believe, it's impossible for Max to be imaginary," she admitted.
"Daddy's real?" Trixie asked happily.
"As unlikely as that seems," Sybil admitted. "See, according to the documentation I read - and it spells this out specifically - 'only a crazy person would deliberately make an adorable candy colored pony cry'. By that logic, any conclusions reached that make Trixie cry must also be considered crazy. And a licensed psychoanalyst cannot be crazy and do their job. Ergo, it cannot be a professional opinion of mine that Max is imaginary." She leaned back with a rueful sigh. "You're a detective Sam. So you can appreciate my conclusions; once you've eliminated the impossible - or in this case, the truly insane - what you are left with is the truth..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Max, who was at that very moment playing the 1812 Overture by squishing his hand under his armpit...including the cannon sounds somehow. "...no matter how deranged," Sybil finished, putting her head in her hands.
Sam chuckled. "By the way, you mentioned psychoanalysis when we were here last," he pointed out. "Given Trixie's...rather unusual circumstances, I was hoping you would analyze her."
"Well, child psychology is a slightly different field than adult..." Sybil admitted. "But then again, not nearly as different as canine or equine psychology probably is from human. Sure, I'll give it a shot."
"While you're at it," he added, passing her the application form, "can you check if she has artificial personality disorder?"
Sybil examined the form. "Hmm...interesting. Well, I can certainly look into it." She turned to where Trixie was happily watching Max butcher classical music. "Trixie, would you come here please?"
Trixie turned and hopped up onto the desk. "That's the Great and Powerful Trixie to you," she pointed out firmly.
"Rrrright..." Sybil said slowly, her pen hovering over the 'Obsession with Fame' check as though certain she could fill it in already. "Well, your Uncle Sam is concerned about your mental health-"
"He lives with Daddy and he's concerned about Trixie's health?" Trixie asked. "Are you sure you shouldn't be analyzing him?"
Sybil chuckled. "A fair enough point, but he's concerned about you. Let's see if we can put his mind at ease, shall we?"
"Gonna need an elephant tranquilizer for that!" Max joked, hopping up to stand on a chair next to the desk so he could tickle Trixie's cheek playfully, making her giggle.
Sybil rolled her eyes. "Trixie-" Seeing Trixie's glare, she cleared her throat. "Great and Powerful Trixie, I'm going to show you some pictures, and I want you to tell me what you see."
Trixie tossed her head. "This will be too easy for the Great and Powerful Trixie!" she proclaimed. "Bring on the pictures!"
Sighing in resignation, Sybil lifted the first inkblot.
Trixie looked at it. "Fireworks going off over the Great and Powerful Trixie's debut performance," she said without hesitation.
Making a note, Sybil placed the next inkblot on the desk.
Trixie examined it for a moment. "Casting agents fighting to be first to sign the Great and Powerful Trixie," she said after a while.
Rolling her eyes and making another note, Sybil set out the third inkblot.
Trixie didn't even blink. "The throne from which the Great and Powerful Trixie will receive worship from her adoring fans."
Double checking her notes, Sybil laid out another inkblot.
Trixie stared at the inkblot for a time. "...Trixie's worshipful fans," she said at last.
Nodding, Sybil set out the final inkblot.
"The Great and Powerful Trixie riding a motorcycle in her first movie role."
Sybil nodded as she collated her results. "Well, your results indicate an obsession with fame...and a bit of a self centered world view, but you're a kid so that's expected." She looked at the list of symptoms she was working from and, nodding discretely to Sam, put a checkmark on 'Obsession with Fame'. "Now I want to try some free association."
"What's that?" Trixie asked.
"I'm going to say a series of words," Sybil explained. "After each word, just say or do whatever comes into your head first when you hear that word," Sybil explained.
Trixie nodded. "Trixie can do that."
Nodding, Sybil prepared to take notes, glancing at her list of test words. "...tumbleweed."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie," Trixie said immediately.
Sybil blinked, then went to the next word. "Crown."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie."
"Saw that one coming," Max murmured to Sam.
Sybil rolled her eyes. "Comb."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie."
Sybil sighed. "Magic."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie."
"...Cranes."
"The Great and Powerful Trixie."
Sybil sighed, wondering if she'd ever get a different response. "Love."
"Daddy!" Trixie responded immediately and without thought, turning her head to nuzzle Max's hand.
Max stared at Trixie, his eyes wide. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, he began stroking her mane, an expression of wonder on his face as though he'd never seen her before.
Sybil quickly wiped her eyes before Trixie turned back, then looked back at her list. "...Wheels."
"Where?" Trixie demanded, yanking out her tear gas launcher and firing a round at Sybil.
Sybil managed to deflect it with her notepad. "Violent reaction! Violent reaction!" she gasped out. When the gas cleared, she marked the chart, deciding she'd had enough of free association.
Trixie stuck the launcher back in her hat as though nothing had happened. "So what next?"
Sybil set her notebook back down. "Next, I want you to tell me about your dreams."
To Sam and Max's surprise, Trixie shuddered. "Does Trixie have to?"
Sybil stared, then pulled the chart and her notepad over. "I think it would be best if you did," she said softly. "The whole point of therapy is to address those things that disturb you."
Trixie nodded slowly. "A-alright," she said softly. "There's...there's only one dream I really remember..."
It always starts the same way...Trixie's in a strange land, different from this one. There are lots of other ponies, and they refuse to believe that Trixie - who is an adult in her dream - is the Greatest and Most Powerful of them all. Another pony - a purple one Trixie's age - makes Trixie look like a fool. Trixie swears her revenge.
Trixie finds an artifact that makes her already great power even greater, and lets her easily brush aside all that was before her! She makes the purple one look foolish, conquering her in a magical duel, and banishing her from her sight. Trixie feels really good then...but at the same time, something doesn't feel right. None of the other ponies will look Trixie in the eye. This makes Trixie angry, so she conquers them all.
Then the purple one tricks Trixie into removing the artifact. Trixie feels horrible for some reason, and leaves. After a time, Trixie finds her bear, Major Ursa, who she thought lost when her moving home was broken. She...holds him close, crying...
Then Trixie remembers why she is sad, why the other ponies not meeting her eyes hurts. ...Trixie was always alone. On the road, traveling, for as long as she can remember. Trixie...Trixie doesn't want to be alone anymore.
Then the white hand reaches down from the heavens and grabs Trixie. Trixie clings tight to Major Ursa, not wanting to lose him again. And Trixie feels her power and her pains fading...
"...that's when Trixie wakes up," Trixie finished, cuddling up to Max. "And when she wakes up, she remembers she has her Daddy, her Uncle Sam, and Major Ursa...and then Trixie feels better."
The dead silence in the room was finally broken by Sam noisily blowing his nose before wiping his eyes. Sybil managed - barely - to get herself under control. "Well...I'm not sure how much this will help you..." She marked the last box on the entry form and signed it. "But you might possibly have Artificial Personality Disorder..." She wiped her own eyes. "Though that might just be the tip of the iceberg," she mumbled.
Sam took the form. "So...maybe you could psychoanalyze me?" he offered as a way to lighten the mood.
"No, Sam," Sybil said, shaking her head. "I'm getting out of psychoanalysis. I don't think I can emotionally distance myself enough from my patients to do well." She looked towards where Max was holding Trixie tightly as the filly buried her face in his neck. "I'm going to look into another job," she said, standing up. As she passed Sam on her way out, she tugged lightly on his sleeve. "Take care of her," she whispered.
Filled out symptom form in hand - and another sucker from Bosco's in Trixie's mouth since both Sam and Max felt the need to spoil her after hearing her dream - the trio made their way back to Brady Culture's Home for Former Child Stars. Once the gate was open, Sam readied himself for battle. "Come on, little buddies. There's justice to be served."
"Can we get ice cream after?" Max asked. "Justice makes me hungry."
"Ice cream sounds good to Trixie," Trixie added, having finished her sucker.
With a chuckle and a nod, Sam led them inside.
After a bit of dialogue that went over Trixie's head, Brady Culture rose out of the ground playing a piano. "Pulchritude above doubts, this is Culture's Clubhouse..." he sang.
"Jumping Lon Chaney in a Boffo fright wig!" Sam gasped. "Brady Culture, I presume."
"And what a terrible song!" Trixie proclaimed, shuddering. "And what a horrible singing voice."
Brady frowned. "You know, I was going to explain my motives and evil plan first, but after that insult, I think I'll just skip to the execution of it!"
"Good job, Trixie!" Max praised. "You skipped the exposition!"
"Trixie is just awesome like that," she replied modestly.
Yanking out a pair of glasses with spiral designs on the lenses, Brady Culture leaned forward. Beams of green light shot out of the lenses, enveloping all three Freelance Policemen. The light then faded.
"Hey, that tickles!" Max said happily.
"That made Trixie's horn hurt," Trixie grumbled, rubbing the afflicted appendage.
Sam, however, wandered off in a hypnotized daze. Before either Max or Trixie could respond, Brady Culture had them both tied up and hanging from the ceiling.
"It seems the two of you are immune to my hypnosis," he pointed out. "Well, no matter. It just means I have an audience to whom I can explain my evil plan and motivations!"
"Daddy!" Trixie complained. "I thought you said Trixie skipped the exposition!"
"Sorry, schnookums. Guess you just sequence broke."
Brady cleared his throat. "I never wanted much. Just to be universally adored," he began.
Trixie shuddered internally, not liking the mental comparisons she found herself making between herself and the big haired idiot.
"That's all," Brady continued. "And to be number one in the TV ratings for the 1971 fall season. But no-o-o! Those worthless hacks, the Soda Poppers, with their matching shirts, and their cute little jingles, they came on opposite me and stole my audience! I was never offered another role!"
Trixie found herself shuddering again, her dream becoming more vivid in her mind. The purple pony upstaging her...never performing again...the rage...the amulet...
"And now you three vigilantes wouldn't even let a poor, down-on-his-luck former child star-"
"No!" Trixie yelled out, closing her eyes tight. "Trixie is not like you no talent hack!" In her rage at denying the comparison, she fired a huge blast of magic that obliterated the piano Brady had been playing, blasting bits of wire, wood, and ivory keys across the room.
Brady Culture, unfortunately, managed to avoid the explosion. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "I'd seen your magic, but I didn't expect it to be that strong." He smirked. "Still, I did prepare for it." Lunging forward, he stuck a cork on the tip of Trixie's horn.
Trixie winced, not liking the sensation of anything stuck to the tip of her horn. "You think this will stop the Great and Powerful Trixie?" she demanded, once more charging her magic. The glow of her spell flowed up her horn...only to bounce off the cork.
"Your magic won't do you any good if you can't release it!" Brady proclaimed.
Furious, Trixie tried to force her magic past the cork. Without warning, the spell backfired, the magic shooting back into her body and along her nervous system. With a sudden scream of pain, her magic dissipated and she blacked out. The last thing she heard was her Daddy calling out to her.
When Trixie regained consciousness, the first thing she noticed was the absence of the feeling of blockage on her horn. Immediately after that was the sensation of her Daddy's arms cradling her. "...Daddy?" she mumbled. "What...what happened?"
"Dunno what happened with you," Max said calmly. "You blacked out not long after Brady stuck that cork on your horn. As for Brady, Sam got some anti-hypnosis headgear and came back to fight Brady. Turned into a hypnosis competition between him and Brady to control the Soda Poppers. Sam eventually tricked Culture into ordering an attack on himself, and the Poppers beat him to a pulp. Then I shaved his head, and we dehypnotized them again."
"Oh..." As Trixie shifted her body around to get feeling back, she felt the vibrations of the Desoto. "Where are we going?"
"Well, since you weren't waking up, Sam was going to drive us to the hospital to get you looked at," Max explained. "But once I felt you stirring, he turned around to head for the office. We should be home soon."
"That's good..." Trixie mumbled. "Trixie doesn't feel so good..."
"From what Max described of what happened to you," Sam spoke up, "it sounds like the cork caused your magic to backfire into you. Now, I won't pretend to be an expert on magical symptoms and illnesses, but we don't actually know anyone we can turn to who would be."
"Somehow I doubt Sybil will pick Witch Doctor for her next job," Max pointed out.
"Quite unlikely," Sam agreed. "However, all my research indicates that a good night's rest fixes most magical ailments, so we'll try that and hope it works."
"Sam, your 'research' is about sleeping at the Inn in video games," Max pointed out.
"They haven't failed me yet," Sam countered. He then pulled the Desoto to a halt outside the office.
Max lifted Trixie carefully to carry her into the apartment on the first floor. For her part, she snuggled into his embrace. Carrying her to the bed, he tucked her in. "Sam and I are gonna go upstairs so we don't disturb your rest while you start to recover," he told her softly.
"Daddy..." Trixie whimpered. "Trixie doesn't feel so good...please stay..."
Max smiled softly, sitting down beside the bed. "Alright, I'll stay," he whispered, reaching out to stroke her mane. "How about a lullaby? Would that help?"
A soft smile greeted that suggestion. "Trixie likes the sound of that."
Max nodded. "Alright, let me think..." He put his hand to his chin for a time. Then, with a soft smile as he stroked her mane, he began to sing.
"Hush little pony, don't say a word, Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Daddy'll let you shoot it with a sling. And if that sling stone don't fly true, Daddy will still make you some mockingbird stew. And if that stew doesn't make you feel right, Then Daddy will stay by you all through the night. So hush, little Trixie, don't you cry, As Daddy sings you a special lullaby."
Max smiled down at the now peacefully slumbering filly. "Sleep well, Trixie," he whispered.
Trixie yawned and stretched as she slowly awoke. After finishing up with Brady Culture a month ago, Trixie had recovered slowly. Max and Sam had taken to letting her sleep however long she wanted, and to keeping the noise down until she was awake. Also as per usual, she found a breakfast waiting for her on a shoulder height tray - shoulder height on her, anyway - with the food cut up into bite size pieces for her. Smiling, she buried her face in her plate, devouring her meal messily. Once finished, she washed up in a basin set out for her, then held a drying cloth in her hooves to dry off. She then went upstairs to ask her Daddy to brush her mane just right. Not that she hadn't recovered enough to do it herself already, but she enjoyed having him spoil her.
Halfway up the stairs, she nearly bumped into Sam and Max coming downstairs. "Good, you're awake!" Sam said happily. "We have another case!"
Trixie grinned eagerly. She hoped to prove herself just as well on this case as she did the last one. "What's the case?" she asked.
"Myra Stump's holding her entire audience hostage!" Max proclaims.
"You mean the annoying talk show host?" Trixie asked. "The one who mothers everybody whether they like it or not?"
"Exactly!" Sam proclaims. "We need to get to the TV station immediately or at our earliest convenience."
"When we beat her up, can Trixie have her hair?"
"We'll see," Sam allowed.
"Can we stop at Bosco's before we go?" Trixie asks. "Trixie wants candy."
"Certainly!" Max replied. "And on the way there, I can brush your mane and tail how you like it!"
Trixie smiled happily as Max picked her up, grabbing her brush, hat, and cape.
On entering Bosco's shop, all three of them were caught off guard by an unexpected development. Bosco was wearing a rather obvious fake mustache, a monocle, and a bowler hat. "What ho!" he greeted with an incredibly fake British accent. "Samuel, Maximillian, Bellatrix!"
"What the...?" Sam barked, stunned.
"You're probably wondering how I know your names!" Bosco proclaimed.
"Daddy," Trixie asked quietly, "why is Bosco in costume? It's not Halloween."
"He's certifiable, like me," Max explained. "There's really no explaining his actions."
"Psst!" Bosco whispered. "Guys, it's me! Bosco!"
"Trixie never would have guessed," the unamused filly said with heavy sarcasm.
"I knew this was a great disguise!" Bosco whispered, apparently immune to sarcasm.
"So Bosco," Sam asked, "what's with the slanted soup strainer?"
"Bosco?" Bosco demanded. "I know not this moniker. I am Lord Reginald Rumplebottom, Earl of Dukedom, the Third."
Trixie blinked. She wasn't sure which was more absurd: Bosco's chosen alias, or that he thought anyone would believe his ridiculous cover story. Either way, she still wanted candy. "Mister British Bosco?" she asked sweetly. "Can Trixie have some candy?"
"Of a certainty, my good young mare!" Bosco proclaimed, handing her a Cadbury Egg.
Trixie smiled as she enjoyed eating the tasty candy, ignoring the conversation around her as she devoured the delicious treat. She managed to finish just as Sam asked about buying something.
"Well, I still have one can of shaving cream the blooming skinbodies haven't gotten yet," Bosco mentioned.
"Oh, yeah, I love shaving!" Max proclaimed.
"That's funny," Sam spoke up. "I've never seen you shave."
"I have," Trixie speaks up. "I hold the kitties for him, but they always make such funny noises."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Sam said carefully.
"Hear what?" Max asked.
"And..." Bosco tantalized, "I have a most peculiar device behind the counter..."
"What is it?" Trixie asked eagerly.
"It's the latest in Bosco-tech innovation. A delightful invention I like to call a chemically based voice modulator."
"Trixie will take it!"
"That will be thirty shillings," Bosco proclaims.
Reaching into her hat, Trixie pulled out thirty shillings. "Here you go!"
Bosco looked at the shillings for a time, rather nonplussed. "I'm afraid I've made a rather dreadful mistake," he admitted gamely. "Due to local regulations, I can't actually accept payment in shillings. I'll need it in American dollars."
"Okay..." Trixie said, pushing the shillings back into her hat. "How much in dollars?"
"$1,000,000!" Bosco proclaimed.
"A million bucks!" Max proclaimed in shock. "No way are we giving out that many tickets-"
"Here you go," Trixie said easily, dropping a million dollars in twenties on the counter from out of her hat.
Sam and Max stared in shock as Bosco took the still banded bills, counting them easily. "Excellent! Here you go!" He then handed over a balloon filled with helium attached to an inhaler.
Trixie picked it up, staring at it. "What...does it do?"
"It uses chemical based alteration to change the modulation of your voice molecules to increase the pitch," Bosco explained.
Trixie stared at it for a time. "Well, Trixie's voice is perfect as is. You can have this, Uncle Sam!" She threw the voice modulator to Sam, who deftly caught it and stored it away. "Could British Bosco throw in the last bottle of shaving cream, too? Trixie wants it for pranks."
"Hmm...hardly proper to renegotiate after the purchase..." Bosco began.
Trixie quickly gave him her cute, begging pout.
"Oh dash it all!" Bosco grunted. "Bring it up to the counter and I'll ring it up!"
At that exact moment, a rat with everything below the neck shaved bare leapt onto the little table the shaving cream was set on. "Paws off, pigs!" he proclaimed, reaching for it. "The skinbodies rule the streets!"
Before he could grab the bottle, Trixie seized it in her magic and proceeded to brain him and his partner in the tiny car who was holding a handgun like a cannon. She then handed the bottle to Bosco to scan while sticking the gun in her hat. She then added the shaving cream to her growing hat store before heading out with Sam and Max.
One of the skinbodies groaned. "Ugh...that unicorn's telekinesis is OP..."
Upon the trio's arrival at the TV station, they discovered it mostly empty. Sam was the first to speak. "Well, here we are Max, Trixie. The TV station with programs too old to be contemporary, too new to be retro, but consistently derivative enough to be popular: W.A.R.P."
"Television so mindless, you can't help but watch!" Max agreed.
"Is Trixie getting paid for this advertisement?" the filly inquired curiously.
"Not yet," Max admitted sadly.
"Oddly quiet in here," Sam commented dryly.
"Mysteriously so!" Max pointed out eagerly.
Trixie, for her part, got bored with the exposition and started heading towards the only other person in the room, quickly followed by Sam and Max. "The Great and Powerful Trixie demands entrance to the studio!" Trixie proclaimed to the yellow clad woman.
"Sorry," she replied. "We've already finished auditions for tiny animals with huge egos. Unless you get better acting talent, you won't go anywhere in this business."
Trixie frowned. "The Great and Powerful Trixie is an excellent actor!" she proclaimed, stomping her hoof.
"Sorry, but I don't currently have any roles available for high-maintenance child stars."
Trixie's eyes narrowed, and it became quickly clear to her guardians that she was on the verge of exerting violence on this unpleasant personage. Max, for his part, rubbed his hands together eagerly. Sam, however, desired to intervene. "Excuse me, Miss, but we're Sam & Max, Freelance Police-"
"Doesn't Trixie get billing?" Trixie demanded.
"Not until after your third case," Max commented comfortingly. "Don't worry, at the rate we're going, that won't be long."
"I'm attempting to convince the civilian to assist us, guys," Sam complained.
The woman, for her part, was rubbing her chin speculatively. "You know, the dynamic you three have is rather interesting. If you can demonstrate any actual acting talent, I could use you. I'm supposed to be directing Midtown Cowboys - amongst other shows - but all my stars are on Myra's show, and won't come back out." Her mention of Myra was growled out viciously. "And since I don't have any other applicants for the audition..."
"Trixie can be a TV star?" Trixie asked eagerly, her eyes shining.
"If you three can act," the lady countered. "You'd best be able to follow the Director's - that's me - stage instructions, too."
"Can we audition, Daddy? Uncle Sam?" Trixie bounced eagerly. "Can we? Can we? Can we?"
"Can we? Can we? Can we?" Max begged Sam.
"Sure, why not?" Sam replied, unwilling to disappoint them both. "What do we need to do?"
"Alright," the director said. "To test your acting talent, we're going to do the climactic scene from Old Yeller, the classic tale of a boy who has to put down his beloved dog because he has rabies." She pointed to Sam. "You be the dog."
"Isn't that type casting?" Sam asked, somewhat offended.
"Do you want the role or not?" the director demanded. "Show me rabid!"
"Uhh...grr?" Sam offered.
"You call that rabid?" she demanded. "I need real rage! Real madness! The eyes of one who has lost all sense of reason!"
Hearing that, Max's ears perked up. "Sam! What Brady did to Trixie? It was her idea!" he said quickly, quiet enough that only Sam heard.
"Now show me-" the director began.
Sam lunged forward, one hand grabbing the director by the throat and pinning her to the wall. His other hand pulled back, fingers curling to accentuate his claws. His lips pulled back in a bestial snarl, drool dripping from his lower lip as a growl of pure rage reverberated from his throat, filling the air with pure menace.
As the director's eyes widened and a grin crossed her face, Max spoke up again. "Just kidding, Sam!"
Sam pulled back. "Dog gone it, little buddy," he grumbled. He turned to the director. "Sorry for handling you like that-"
"That was amazing!" she said eagerly. "I mean, I fully expected - at best - a bit of an angry face covered in shaving cream, but that! That was divine! And on such little stimulus, too!" She pointed to Max. "I noticed your stage direction. I don't know what you said, but whatever it was, it turned the trick!" She then turned to Trixie. "Now, you'll be the boy on discovering his dog does, in fact, have rabies. Show me sorrow! Show me tears! Show me anguish!"
Having caught that Max had used some real event to trigger Sam's reaction, Trixie decided to do the same thing. She recalled her nightmare. Her ears went back against her skull, her eyes went wide and watered, tears pouring down her cheeks, her lips pursed into her most adorable, saddest pout, and sad music began playing from nowhere.
"Beautiful!" the director proclaimed. "If I weren't totally jaded from years working in television, I'd be crying my eyes out at that scene." She then pointed to Max. "Now you! Shoot your dog!"
Sam looked nervous. "Now Max, let's not be hasty-"
Grinning widely, Max pulled out his gun and shot Sam in the head, making him fall backwards.
"Wonderful!" the director crowed happily. "That pratfall was perfect! I genuinely believed he just shot you! And you even provided your own special effects!" She clapped her hands eagerly. "You're hired!"
"Was there ever any doubt?" Trixie proclaimed haughtily, though visibly vibrating with suppressed glee.
Sam stood up. "Good thing I worked my anti-hypnosis headgear into my hat," he muttered, straightening the head wear in question, "or I'd have one too many holes in my head."
"Alright you three," the director instructed, "head on into the Midtown Cowboys stage. I need to get this stage prepared for another show."
"Does Trixie get her own dressing room?" the filly asked as they headed through the door.
"Not until you've done a full season," the director replied without hesitation.
On the next stage, the director was already waiting for them. "Alright, let's begin," she stated quickly. "We're in a bit of a hurry, so I'm going to have to be brief. You two are playing a pair of cattle ranchers trying to raise a herd in an apartment in Manhattan."
"My Uncle Ernie did that," Max pointed out. "Except it was pigs, and not in an apartment."
"Unfortunately not," Max apologized. "It was a very...unsuccessful venture."
Trixie winced in sympathy.
"I only see one cow," Sam pointed out.
"It's a small herd," the director pointed out in exasperation. "You're struggling, okay?"
"Okay," Sam agreed.
"Now, you've got this landlord, Mr. Featherly, who has a very strict no-cows policy."
"Devilishly inconvenient," Sam commented dryly.
"I begin to see from whence the hilarity spouts," Max added.
"Trixie doesn't," the filly argued.
"Antics, hijinks, and humorous misunderstandings," Max explained.
"Ah," Trixie mused.
"So where's the script?" Sam asked.
"Well, there's a slight hitch," the director demurred. "The cow ate most of the script, so you're going to have to ad-lib the show. And don't worry, you'll be working with Philo Pennyworth, who plays Featherly. He's a brilliant actor, classically trained, globe theater and all that. Just set him up to do something funny and he'll handle it from there."
"Check," Sam agreed. "Anything else?"
"Actually, yes. We did save one line from the script, and it's vitally important we work it in, because it's the product placement that pays for the whole show. One of you will have to say the line."
"Me!" Max volunteered eagerly.
"All right, Max, your line is: Better get the serious toothpaste."
"Got it," Max agreed.
"Any more questions?"
"What is Trixie's role?" Trixie demanded.
The director paused. "...well, we don't have anything written, so just get on stage and do something adorable and we'll work from there, alright?"
"Trixie can do that," the filly confirmed. "Trixie is very good at being adorable."
"Alright you two, center stage!"
As the cameras started rolling, Sam looked around to see how he could disguise the cow in the room as something other than a cow. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the lampshade off the lamp and stuck it on the cow's head, looking not unlike a chef's hat.
At that moment, the door swung open, and a well dressed chicken came into the apartment. "Aha!" the chicken proclaimed. "I know you're hiding a-"
Before anyone else could react, Trixie charged onto the set, tumbling and landing on her back at Pennyworth's feet.
The actor didn't even blink at the unexpected interruption. "And who's this little one?"
Trixie looked up at him cutely. "Moo?"
As the laugh track played, 'Featherly' chuckled. "Is this the cow you've been hiding?" he asked good-naturedly.
"Sorry sir," Sam said calmly. "My niece is visiting this week, and she loves playing pretend. I would have mentioned it, but there's a 'no kids' policy in addition to 'no cows'."
'Featherly' chuckled. "Well she doesn't look like a goat to me!" The laugh track played again. "Besides, she's only visiting. And you are adorable, aren't you?" Reaching forward, he pretended to tickle Trixie's tummy with his feathers. "Coochie coo! Coochie coo!"
Hiding her actions with her oversized hat, Trixie sprayed a tube of lime Gogurt on 'Featherly's face. He pulled back sputtering.
As the laugh track played again, Max said without prompting, "Better get the serious toothpaste!"
"And cut!" the director said. "Well done you three!"
"I must say, good show!" Pennyworth told Trixie as he cleaned up the yogurt on his face. "Quite clever there, and good ad-lib."
"Trixie is a star and she knows it!" Trixie proclaimed happily. "What's out there?" she asked, pointing at the door they'd come in from.
"That's our Talentless show, Embarrassing Idol," the director explained. "People who think they can sing perform, and the judges heckle them."
"Trixie will sing!" Trixie proclaimed, running out the door.
"Here," the director said, handing Sam a tape. "A clip for her portfolio. She's definitely got potential."
"Thanks," Sam said happily before he and Max followed Trixie.
In the refurbished stage, the director was talking to Peepers. "I just don't see how you can sing and be a judge. I don't think the public would swallow that."
"Look Daddy!" Trixie called. "It's the Soda Poppers!"
"Could we find another judge?" Peepers asked.
"Daddy can judge!" Trixie eagerly volunteered.
"I can?" Max asked in shock.
"I have every confidence in your ability to be offensive and insulting in good spirits, little buddy," Sam agreed.
"Alright, fine," the director agreed. "Let's just get this show going."
As the show prepared, Peepers was the first to sing. "Am I blue, How are you, can I fly?" he sang, hitting a high note on his last word.
"So...is it Trixie's turn yet?" Trixie asked.
"Actually, I'm thinking of singing," Sam pointed out, pulling out the voice modulator. "I understand Specs is looking for high notes." Going up to the mic, Sam used the voice modulator to hit a high note that cracked Specs' glasses.
After Sam got Specs and Max's vote - much to Peepers irritation on the former - Trixie prepared to sing. As she went by the judge's table, however, she heard Whizzer complaining to Peepers. "I still can't believe you forgot my birthday!" he growled.
"I said I was sorry!" Peepers whined.
Seizing on an advantage, Trixie walked up to Whizzer. "Happy Birthday!" she said happily, rising up on her hind hooves to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. As she came down, she fluttered her eyelashes adorably.
A goofy grin plastered itself on Whizzer's face. "T-thanks," he said happily.
Smiling, Trixie turned around and walked towards the mic. As she approached, she smirked down at her hoof. "Works every time," she whispered smugly. She blinked up at the mic. "Can Trixie have a lower mic stand?"
To nearly everyone's surprise, Whizzer zipped over to set up the mic at Trixie's mouth height before zipping back to the judge's table.
"Thank you!" Trixie called happily, fluttering her eyelashes at him again.
"D-don't mention it!" Whizzer replied hesitantly.
"What devilish manipulations!" Max whispered. "She's got him wrapped around her hoof! Oh, Daddy's so proud!"
Chuckling, Trixie cleared her throat, stepped up to the microphone...and sang.
As she reached the end of her song, she rose up on her forehooves to emphasize the last high note, only to fall forward onto her face, her cape falling atop of her to cover her up. She quickly pushed herself to her hooves to hear the judge's votes.
"I have to vote for the cute filly who made this birthday great!" Whizzer said quickly.
"Hey!" Peepers complained.
"While Sam hit the highest note," Specs explained, "you hit more of them, and they fit more naturally in the song. Plus, that little pratfall at the end was just too adorable. That's another vote for you, Trixie!"
"You guys!" Peepers complained again, even louder.
"I may be a silly rabbit," Max said happily, "but I know Trixie's all for me!"
"The votes are unanimous!" the announcer proclaimed. "The winner is the Great and Powerful Trixie! She's won a recording contract with with Bin Bottom Records! Congratulations!"
Trixie was visibly vibrating with glee as she accepted the contract. "Yes!" she proclaimed, ignoring the Soda Poppers running out angrily. "The Great and Powerful Trixie proves once again to be the greatest there is!"
Sam and Max looked on, smiling proudly as she boasted.
After Trixie won Embarrassing Idol, Sam had started to turn back to continue exploring the set, hoping to find their way to Myra's show so they could investigate what was happening with her. However, he noticed quickly that Max and Trixie weren't following him. They were heading out to the parking lot. Curious, Sam followed.
Outside, Max walked Trixie back to the Desoto, then glanced around cautiously. "Alright, Trixie," he said quietly. "No one's looking. You can let it out."
Trixie, who had still been vibrating visibly with glee, squealed happily. "Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!" she squealed happily, bouncing around in adorable circles around Max. "I did it, Daddy! I did it! Trixie won the contest!"
Max smiled down indulgently at her. "That you did, schnookums," he said softly. As she stopped bouncing, he reached down and caressed her head. "You did good."
As Trixie continued to dance about and squeal in glee, Sam smiled, brushing a tear from his eye as he silently closed the door as he stepped back into the studio.
After about a half an hour had passed, Max and Trixie came back in. "Where have you two been all this time?" Sam demanded, feigning looking cross.
"Sorry Sam," Max apologized. "You know how easily I get distracted."
"Trixie was following Daddy," Trixie added.
"Alright. What distracted you this time, little buddy?"
"I saw a fish!" Max replied excitedly.
"It was pretty," Trixie added, "though not as pretty as Trixie."
"That's all?" Sam inquired.
"No. I also saw a bird."
"Trixie kicked its ass!" the filly proclaimed proudly.
"You crack me up, little buddies," Sam mused, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Come on, it's time to get back to investigating this studio."
As the trio stepped through the door to the game show portion of the studio, Sam pointed out something that caught his interest. "Look Max, Trixie, there's the door to Myra's set! Let's get in there and liberate her literally captive audi-"
"It's Hugh Bliss!" Trixie squealed, pointing to the man standing beside the door. Squealing, she rushed forward, reaching into her hat for an autograph book. "Can Trixie have an autograph for Daddy?" she asked the man.
He chuckled indulgently. "Only if Hugh Bliss can have the Great and Powerful Trixie's autograph for himself," he replied, making a pen and autograph book appear out of thin air.
Trixie's eyes widened in awe. "Hugh Bliss knows Trixie's title!" she marveled as Sam and Max approached.
"Of course I do," Hugh Bliss replied. "That's the power of the Magic of Color!" He waved his hands theatrically. Turning, he greeted Sam and Max. "Hi, I'm Hugh Bliss. And you are Sam and Max, Freelance Police!"
"Trixie is Freelance Police, too!" Trixie objected.
"Indeed you are!" Hugh Bliss replied, waving his hand and pulling a lollipop out of thin air, handing it already unwrapped to the filly. Trixie, for her part, eagerly latched onto the sucker, sucking happily away on it.
"So, Hugh Bliss, what brings you to WARP?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"I, too, am here to meet Myra," Hugh Bliss informed him.
Max gasped in shock. "How'd you know we came for Myra?"
"Magic," Trixie replied. "Duh."
"Indeed!" Hugh Bliss replied. "I can read your mind in the colors of your auras."
"As the resident doubting Thomas of this crime fighting trio," Sam began, "I consider it my civic duty to say: prove it."
"Okay," Hugh Bliss replied. "Think of something, anything!"
Sam screwed up his face in concentration.
"Hugh Bliss is a big fat charlatan!" Hugh Bliss said happily. "Lucky guess!"
Sam growled, and redirected his thoughts.
"Pennies on the eyes of a dead mime!"
"Six million, three hundred seventy three thousand, four hundred eleven point nine eight."
As Sam started to growl, Hugh Bliss intoned happily, "Enough of this ridiculous farce!"
"Oh! Do me! Do me!" Trixie said eagerly.
"The nine hundred eighty seven thousand, six hundred fifty fourth digit of pi," Hugh Bliss replied. "Which just so happens to be five."
"He's good!" Max said in amazement. "Now me! Now me!"
Hugh Bliss stared at Max for a time. "Oh! Oh my! That's unspeakably depraved!"
"It's Max," Sam grumbled. "Anyone could guess that-"
"But what you're using that to hide is just oh so sweet!" Hugh Bliss added. Kneeling down, he gently pet Trixie's back. "You're a lucky little filly to have him as your Daddy."
"Trixie knows this!" Trixie replied happily as Max stared at Hugh Bliss in confusion and Sam stared at Max in awe.
Sam eventually recovered his composure. "What's your business with Myra?"
"I'm to be a guest on her show, silly!"
"Are you going to be promoting Emetics: the Handbook for Multi-Colored Happiness?" Trixie asked.
"Now who's reading minds?" Hugh Bliss replied happily. "Be sure to take a copy when you leave."
"Can you just give us the ten word summary?" Sam requested. "We're kind of busy."
"Ten words?" Hugh Bliss inquired. "Oh my. How about, 'Prismatology is the answer, unicorns are pretty-'"
"Don't need a book to tell us that," Sam chuckled, reaching down to pet a preening Trixie.
As Sam continued to question Hugh Bliss, Trixie lost interest in the discussion and wandered over to the two podiums in the center of the room. Curious, she climbed up the left podium until she reached the microphone.
"We have a contestant!" the director yelled. "Hugh Bliss, think you can fill in for the host? He went on Myra hours ago and hasn't come out!"
"Can a butterfly fly?" Hugh Bliss inquired. Everyone stared at him. "Yes, it can. Oh, what do I do?"
"Just get up there and read questions!" the director insisted. "Hurry, the cameras are about to roll!"
As music began playing and Hugh Bliss warped to the other podium via a rainbow, Trixie was startled as the announcer voice from Embarrassing Idol echoed from somewhere. "From somewhere deep in the bowels of WARP, it's Who's Never Going to be a Millionaire! With special guest host, Hugh Bliss!"
"Hi, I'm Hugh Bliss!" Hugh said to the cameras.
"Our first contestant is a tiny filly who recently guest starred on the latest episode of Midtown Cowboys - stealing the show in the process - and won Embarrassing Idol! Seems like she's going for a hat trick of fame today, please welcome, Trixie!"
"That's the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Trixie pointed out as the applause sounded. She stomped her hoof on the podium, which triggered a laugh track.
"Welcome," Hugh Bliss began. "You know the rules. If you can answer even one question right, you will walk away...a millionaire!"
"Trixie will claim this prize too!" Trixie proclaimed, waving her hoof and accidentally sitting down on her buzzer. This triggered another applause and laugh track.
"Okay! Are you ready?" Hugh Bliss brought out the questions. "Oh happy day! It's an easy one!" He cleared his throat. "If a man sets out from the Horsehead Nebula in a spaceship travelling at thrice the speed of light, and his father leaves from Rigel 2 at the same time travelling at half that speed, how many nanoseconds will it be before time paradox causes the first man never to have been born."
Trixie's eyes widened with panic. There was no way she could figure out the answer to that question. There was only one hope for her: fillybuster bullshit and pray she guessed right. "According to unification philosophy, all truths are aspects of a single all-encompassing truth, call it the set of all Truths T. Inductive reasoning within that philosophy suggests that it is through those individual truths that we can discover said ultimate Truth, meaning that the entirety of set T is both many small truths t and a single Truth T at the same time, meaning that the entire set T can be represented by any variable t accurately. For an answer to be correct, it must be true, and by the logic stated above, any true answer respresents all true - and thus, all correct - answers, so the correct answer is...I'm adorable?" Pursing her lips, she fluttered her eyelashes at Hugh Bliss.
"That's correct!" Hugh Bliss proclaimed. "You've been reading my book, haven't you?"
"We just went bankrupt!" the announcer proclaimed. "So we will not be back right after these messages!"
Trixie bounced happily over to the director. "So where's my prize?"
The director scratched the back of her head nervously. "We don't...actually have a million dollars as a prize," she admitted.
Max gasped. "Such scandal! We'll sue the pants off of you for getting my daughter's hopes and then dashing them so expertly!"
"We do, however, have a million dollars worth of food stamps we can give you," the director hastened to reassure them, pointing to the pile of stamps.
"That will do!" Trixie walked over to the stack. "With magic, Trixie will transform these next to useless money substitutes to cold hard cash!" Pulling off her hat, she swept it down over the stacks of food stamps, causing them to disappear into it. "Shazam!" she proclaimed, reaching into her hat and pulling out a bundle of 100 $10,000 bills.
"That's three TV stardom moments under your cape, Trixie," Sam praised. "Want to see if you can steal Myra's spotlight while we investigate why she's holding her audience hostage, and make it four?"
"Sounds fun!" Trixie said eagerly, stuffing the money back in her hat and putting it back on.
Heading to the door, Sam opened it. Myra herself greeted them from the other side. "It's polite to knock. You do know we're taping a show here."
"We want to be on your show!" Trixie spoke up eagerly.
"We're supposed to be trying to get her to free the hostages," Sam hissed.
"I don't know what you mean about hostages," Myra began, "but my guest line up is rather full. If you want to cut in line, you're going to be a really big name celebrity."
"There is no name bigger than the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Trixie proclaimed, puffing out her chest.
"Cute kid, but we already had a trained animals segment," Myra countered. Ignoring Trixie's offended gasp, Myra continued. "If you want to be on, you're going to need to be a TV star-"
"Here's a clip of Trixie's debut on Midtown Cowboys," Sam said, holding out the tape.
Taking it and looking it over, Myra continued. "You need to have a recording contract-"
"Bim Boffom Recofs!" Trixe yelled around the contract, having grabbed it out of her hat with her mouth. Whether from excitement or a calculated ploy to increase cuteness, Sam wasn't certain.
Myra glanced at the contract, then nodded. "And you need to be involved in a scandal of some sort."
"We're two single anthropomorphic male adults with no known romantic prospects, living together for years, of questionable moral fiber, and raising a little girl from another dimension between us," Max explained. "Does that qualify as scandal?"
"Only if there's something interesting in the sleeping arrangements," Myra pointed out.
"Does that mean Trixie gets her own bed instead of taking Daddy's while Daddy sleeps in Uncle's bed?" Trixie asked.
"Ooh, juicy!" Myra said eagerly, rubbing her hands. "Get on stage, hurry!"
As they came onto the stage of the show, Trixie was too distracted with being in front of a genuine live audience to pay much attention to what Sam, Max, and Myra were saying. All she was able to deduce easily was that the animatronic teddy bear on Myra's desk was evil, and that Sam and Max were unable to disobey Myra while on camera. Trixie noticed that the bear had the same hypnotic energy as the glasses Brady Culture had used, and that she didn't seem bound in the same way as Sam and Max. At least, she was able to stand up and spin around on her chair before sitting back down.
"So tell me, boys," Myra began, "I hear tell that the two of you are raising this little filly between you. I'm a bit concerned about what that says regarding...family values."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked in confusion.
"Two single men who have been living together for years suddenly adopting a filly?" Myra queried. "Surely that's not something that just happens out of nowhere."
"Actually, I just pulled her out of a hat, and she asked me to keep her!" Max said happily, resulting in a mix of scandalous Ooh's and heart touched Aww's from the audience.
"So sudden!" Myra mused. "But surely that caused some problems with sleeping arrangements, right?"
"Trixie slept with Daddy when she first arrived," Trixie pointed out, reaching over to lay her hoof on Max's hand. This brought another chorus of Aww's. "Though once Trixie was big enough to sleep alone, Daddy slept with Uncle Sam."
Another chorus of Ooo's greeted that. "My goodness!" Myra gasped. "Are you really sure that's appropriate around a young, impressionable girl?"
"What's wrong with it?" Sam asked in confusion. "Max and I have been friends since we were kids."
"It's hardly the first time we've shared a bed," Max agreed, startling more Ooo's from the audience.
"Dare I ask," Myra began, "is there perchance more than friendship to your relationship, Sam and Max?"
"What?" Sam asked, shocked. "No! There's nothing like that. I'm straight in more than just my laces! Tell her, Max!"
Max stood up on his chair, raising his hands menacingly. "Like the dreaded No-Life King before me, there is no mortal alive that can comprehend my sexual preference!"
As the audience burst into laughter, Sam rounded on Max. "Max, you're supposed to be helping me!"
"I am," Max countered. "I'm being the chaotic, unpredictable madman complimenting your logical, predictable linear thinking."
"Not on live TV!" Sam argued. "You're supposed to be acting a responsible father!"
Max blinked blankly. "You've lost me."
As the audience laughed and Myra started babbling on about something or other, Trixie fidgeted in her seat. Her tummy rumbled. All she'd had to eat today since breakfast was a Cadbury Egg and a lollipop, and her stomach was expressing its dissatisfaction with such skimpy feeding over such an active day. She found herself longing for Major Ursa to cuddle, as that always helped her ignore any physical discomforts. "Can Trixie hug the bear?" Trixie asked, pointing at the evil bear.
As the audience let off a chorus of Daws, Myra smiled. "Well I don't see-" The bear's eyes zapped her with green energy. "What is wrong with children these days, being so demanding?"
Trixie's ears went flat to her skull, and her eyes watered. "Trixie...Trixie just wants to hug the bear..."
"And what is with the third person speech?" Myra demanded. "Do you think it makes you seem more mature or important? It's just yet another childish game to get attention and get your way, and when you don't you start crying to make the grownups feel guilty. What happened to the days when kids had a sense of responsibility-"
Trixie, still being quite young, was unable to take the heaping verbal denunciation. Within moments, she burst into tears.
"Trixie!" Max called out in concern, quickly pulling her into his lap. "Sorry about her. She's still young and we haven't gotten to stop for lunch yet. You know how little kids get cranky when they get hungry..."
Myra started to open her mouth for another denunciation, but the angry muttering from the audience seemed to percolate into her awareness. She blinked for a time, then closed her eyes and put her hand to her head. Her eyes opened, and a green flare burst from them before dissipating. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "I don't know what came over me. Here you go." Grabbing the bear - which tried and failed to turn towards her - she handed it to Trixie.
Trixie, for her part, stopped crying and cuddled the bear, her grip making it impossible for it to turn its head back towards Myra.
Myra then glanced around, seeming confused. "What are you all still doing here?" she demanded of her audience. "Aren't you all up past your bedtimes by over a day? Go home, shower, get some sleep! Your body's a temple, so take better care of it!"
The audience cheered as the credits started to roll and they filed out.
"Trixie!" Sam said happily. "I don't know how, but you broke Myra's hypnosis!"
"Yay!" Trixie said happily, squeezing extra tight and making the bear's head pop off. "Daddy did it!" she cried, pointing accusingly at Max.
"I admit I'm guilty!" Max proclaimed.
"I just don't know what came over me," Myra explained. "I opened that bear and then...I suddenly felt compelled to make the best show ever! There was something in my head, driving me onward. But...but when my audience started to turn against me because I was making a little girl cry, I...something snapped in my head and I knew I had to fix things...and somehow the bear was the cause of it all!"
"We'll look into it," Sam promised, "but for now, this case is closed!"
"Does that mean Trixie gets lunch now?" Trixie asked.
"Sure," Max replied. "And until we get to food, look who I brought!" Reaching into Sam's pocket, he pulled out Trixie's teddy bear.
"Major Ursa!" Trixie cried happily, cuddling the bear.
"You two take good care of that little girl, ya hear?" Myra instructed. "I don't want to see you three on my show about family failures!"
Trixie's day began as they always did, pushing herself to her hooves, shrugging the cover off as she yawned and stretched, cat like. Smacking her lips, she gave Major Ursa one last hug before climbing out of bed and trotting over to the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, she fired a bolt of magic at the ceiling. The thunderclap it released awoke the rest of the household to begin the day. Her Daddy arrived shortly after with a huge grin and an armful of shampoos, ready for their morning ablutions. In comfortable silence, they stepped into the tub as he turned on the water, her magic keeping any water from hitting either of them until it was warm. Once the water was warm, she sat in the warm cascade as her Daddy scrubbed himself clean. Once he was clean, he then proceeded to scrub her clean, being careful around her face and horn. He then finished off by lathering her mane and tail before rinsing her off completely.
Once they were both completely clean, Trixie put the plug in the drain and waited until the tub filled to a comfortable level. She then shut it off as her Daddy pulled the tub toys out. They then proceeded to play "Armada and the Dangerous Sea", with one of them controlling the sea ships while the other attempted to destroy the ships with anything from natural hazards to sea monsters. Trixie generally used her magic when she controlled the sea, doing anything from tentacles made of water to miniature storms to simply smashing them with her hooves as an angry sea god. Today was her Daddy's turn to be the hazards, and as usual his focus was being a massive shark to chomp and eat the ships. While such things might normally get boring, Trixie had started arming her vessels with mini water cannons, which she used to fire balls of water at her Daddy to play at taking down the Megashark.
When they finished playing in the tub - play time being measured in how long it took to transfer the tub's contents of water to the floor, ceiling, and other bathroom fixtures - the two climbed out of the tub and her Daddy grabbed the towels. First he dried himself off completely, first by shaking off excess moisture and then scrubbing with the towel. Then he would dry Trixie, using the towels on her coat and a hair dryer on her mane and tail. When this resulted in mane, coat, and tail poofing up ridiculously, they both laughed at her reflection before he grabbed brush and comb. He then spent the next hour or so carefully grooming her coat, mane, and tail until they looked flawless.
When they came down from the bathroom, Uncle Sam - as always - had breakfast ready. Today was pancakes with maple syrup, fried eggs, bacon - pork for Uncle Sam and Daddy, tofu for Trixie - hash browns, a treat, and drinks. The treats varied depending on what Uncle Sam made, and for whom. Uncle Sam's treat today was a large bone from last night's dinner with a bit of meat still on; he'd probably spend most of the rest of the day chewing on it. Daddy's treat was a carrot cake cupcake, his secret favorite. Trixie's treat was the holy grail of special foods for her...peanut butter crackers. For drinks, there was coffee for Uncle Sam, fruit punch for Daddy, and apple juice in a box for Trixie, just how she loved it.
After taking their time and enjoying breakfast, Trixie got dressed in her hat and cape. Uncle Sam cleaned up dishes while Trixie and her Daddy played video games. Trixie was beginning to get the hang of the controllers, and was really enjoying herself playing with her Daddy. Of course, she blamed controllers not designed for hooves when she lost, and strutted proclaiming the greatness of her powerful skills when she won. Neither her Daddy nor Uncle indicated she should change this behavior. Her Daddy, in fact, encouraged it. Once Uncle Sam finished cleaning up the kitchen and bathroom, he would join them for a three player game.
After morning video games, if there wasn't a case call, they would have lunch. Today, lunch was peanut butter sandwiches, potato chips, and sodas. Uncle Sam preferred Sprite, Max had an unimaginably chaotic mix of flavors that sounded disgusting but somehow tasted good, and Trixie had black cherry cola.
After lunch, they wandered happily around town. Sometimes they would visit Sybil to see how her job search was going. Her last job as a tabloid writer failed because everyone lost interest in aliens after Trixie's television debut and everyone now wanted to know about ponies. Other days, they would stop in at Bosco's inconvenience to see what he had for sale - other than a free piece of candy for Trixie - or how things were going with his disguise. Currently, he'd set aside his British disguise, since the threat of the skinbodies had been dealt with and no one new seemed to be after him.
And then there were days like today, when there was nothing interesting around town to distract them. On some days like this, they would hit a movie theater and watch one of the new films coming out. Other days, they would hit an arcade. Still others, they'd run around in a park, playing hide and seek or watching Uncle Sam chase a frisbee.
But today was special. Uncle Sam had gotten them some new toys to play with, ones that Trixie could accept for gun play. Paintball had been out because paint was near impossible to clean out of Trixie's mane and tail. Today, however, they would play in the park. Trixie grinned as she slipped on her vest, strapping it on under her cape. Once in position, she levitated the gun and switched them on.
"Ready!" her suit informed her.
"Ready!" she heard echoed from her Daddy's vest.
"Ready!" Uncle Sam's suit intoned.
"Game on!" all three suits chimed.
With that, Trixie leapt out of her cover, swinging her gun up. The laser beam shot out, immediately tagging Uncle Sam.
"One point: G.A.P. Trixie!" the suits informed them, pronouncing the acronym of her title as Gap.
"You cannot defeat the Great and Powerful-" Her brag was interrupted as he suit alerted her to being hit.
"Point for Mad Max!"
"Gotcha, schnookums!"
"Trixie will end you!"
"Point for Hound Dog!"
"Sam!"
"That's for programming my call sign without consulting me, little buddy!"
The trio played well into the late afternoon, enjoying themselves immensely. As the sun started to set, they stopped and checked their points. As each suit added a point for scoring a hit and deducted one for being hit, it was no surprise that Trixie had proven victorious, being a very small target.
"None can conquer the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Trixie proclaimed.
"Next time you play without your cape," Sam pointed out. "I must have had 12 clear shots at you if not for that."
"Ha! A likely story! You are simply jealous of Trixie's leet skillz!"
"On no! Not leet speak!"
The three laughed their way home. Dinner was pizza they ordered in to eat alongside popcorn as they watched a video together, relaxing on the sofa.
When Trixie dozed off towards the credits, Max tenderly scooped her up, hung up her hat and cape, and tucked her in beside Major Ursa, who she automatically curled up to. Sitting back, he stroked her mane, singing her lullaby softly to ease her from drowsing to deep sleep.
This was Trixie's daily life with her Daddy and Uncle. And she was happy.
"You heard the lady!" Max told Sam as he caught Trixie as she came down. "Higher!"
Sam caught Max as he came down. "Good news, little buddies. I think I just gave birth to a bouncing baby hernia."
The three of them were playing a new game Trixie had decided on. She had fun pretending to fly by having Max throw her into the air, and she thought it would be even more fun if she got more altitude by having Sam throw Max into the air before Max threw her. As she went up, Max came down and Sam caught him. Then Sam threw Max up to catch Trixie on her way down before catching both of them. She called it the Multi-Stage Rocket Game.
As Sam threw Max up again, the phone rang. "I got it!" he called out, throwing Trixie forward.
As Sam ran forward, Trixie came down on the phone, sending the handset flipping up into the air where Sam caught it. "Hello? Yes commissioner? Holy cap wearing catfish flopping on a crime beat! We're on our way!" He then hung up the phone.
"So...does that count as Trixie getting the phone or Uncle Sam getting it?" Trixie asked.
"We'll figure that out later, Trixie! We've got a case!" Sam proclaimed. "We're after the most infamous organized crime outfit in the city, the Toy Mafia."
"The cutthroat killers with no respect for human life but an odd predilection for delightful children's toys?" Max asked.
"The same," Sam confirmed.
"They sound like Daddy," Trixie pointed out.
"Yeah, I'd fit right in with them!" Max proclaimed.
"That will be useful, as we're heading out to assist an undercover mole out of their secret headquarters: Ted. E Bear's Mafia Free Toyland and Casino."
Trixie stared at Sam. "...how long did it take the regular police to figure out that was their hideout?"
Sam shrugged. "About three months."
Trixie sighed, rolling her eyes. "Now I know why we get all the cases. Can we stop by Bosco's first? He'll probably have something useful, and I wanna see what funny accent he has today."
"I know!" Max said happily. "Those are always so amusing! Remember last week, when he was convinced the Department of Homeland Security was after him, so he disguised himself as an Arabic Muslim?"
"That one kind of backfired on him, I think," Sam commented dryly.
"I think when he thought the Trekkies were after him and disguised himself as a Klingon to 'blend in' was more fun," Trixie pointed out. "So many sharp, pointy bits in the store..."
"You know, you're right," Sam agreed. "We owe it to ourselves to see who is after Bosco today, and what crazy costume he's come up with to try and hide from them."
"Do you think he realizes that hiding doesn't work very well if you don't move to a different location?" Max asked.
The three glanced at each other for a time. "Let's not tell him," Sam whispered conspiratorially, setting Trixie to giggling.
"So how are we supposed to recognize the mole?" Max asked.
"He'll be short, rotund, and stink of dirt?" Trixie suggested.
"Actually, it's a code phrase," Sam pointed out. "We're supposed to ask, 'Does the carpet match the drapes?' Then the mole will reply, 'Well I never!' and slap us."
Trixie tilted her head. "So...the mole's male, right? Cause after all the TV Daddy and I have watched, I can't help but think any female we ask that of will respond that way, mole or not."
"Yes, the mole is male," Sam confirmed.
Trixie turned to Max. "How does Uncle Sam get so much information from such a short phone call?"
"No idea," Max replied.
As they entered Bosco's Inconvenience, Sam and Max greeted him. "Hey Bosco!" Sam said cordially.
"Nice Flapjack!" Max agreed.
"Son of Cordon Bleu!" Bosco replied. "Who is this Bosco?"
Before he could say more, Trixie pointed her gun at him and cocked it.
"I surrender!" Bosco cried, throwing his hands up into the air.
"Wow," Trixie commented. "Really good French disguise there. So who are you today?"
"I am Jean Francois Sissypants, the cowardly French Anarchist!" Bosco proclaimed. Trixie stifled her snickers at his choice of name.
"So Bosco, why'd you get Frenchified?" Sam asked.
"Zey saw through all my previous disguises!" he proclaimed. "I don't know how zey did it, but zey found me!"
"Who?" Max asked.
"The mafia! The Toy Mafia! They've got it in for me!"
Trixie raised an eyebrow. "You mean the group we're likely to be completely obliterating before the day is out since they're the focus of our latest case?" she asked.
"Mes sauveurs!" Bosco proclaimed happily. "Have candy, my good mare!" Leaning over, he gave her a chocolate truffle.
Trixie eagerly bit into the chocolate candy, enjoying the taste as Sam and Max discussed with Bosco exactly what the Toy Mafia was intending. Again, she didn't pay attention, because honestly she was pretty sure the casino that was their base would be a crater before the day was out. That's just how things went when her Daddy and Uncle were involved.
She finished her treat in time to hear Sam ask Bosco what was for sale.
"Oo la la! Behind ze counter I have ze latest in Bosco-tech innovation! A device non-pareil-au-chocolat!"
"Sounds delicious," Trixie commented.
"Non!" Bosco countered. "It is not edible! Well, it is, but you should not eat it. This I call a miniature listening device! It can fit in any cravat, under any chapeau!"
"How much?" Trixie asked.
"You don't even know if we need it, Trixie," Sam pointed out.
"Trixie has money burning a hole in her hat, and it's getting kind of heavy," Trixie pointed out. "Besides, Trixie likes buying stuff from Bosco."
"Ze price is...ten million dollars!" Bosco proclaimed.
Trixie pulled a suitcase out of her hat and popped it open, revealing stacks of banded $100 bills. "Here you go!" she proclaimed.
Bosco examined the money briefly, confirming that all 10 million was there. "Mon dieu! How is it you have so much cash so readily?"
"Trixie played gooder on White Collar Boulevard," Trixie replied. "Lots of people driving by gave Trixie money."
"Amazing!" Max marveled.
"Very well then!" Bosco stated. "In return I give you...ze miniature listening device!" He placed a cockroach on the counter which skittered forward towards them.
"This is a bug," Sam pointed out.
"Precisement!" Bosco agreed.
"Trixie wants to call him Mister Squishy!" Trixie pointed out.
"And just what makes you think a military veteran like me is going to take such disrespect from you, maggot?" the bug demanded in a gruff, drill sergeant like voice.
"Because that's the noise you'll be making if you disrespect your new commanding officer again!" Trixie barked back.
"Yes sir, General Trixie ma'am!" the bug proclaimed. "What is my base of operations?"
"In here," Trixie dictated, holding out her hat.
"Sir yes ma'am!" Mr. Squishy proclaimed, diving into the hat.
Trixie put her hat back on. "So now we go blow up the casino?"
"Yes!" Max proclaimed happily.
"No!" Sam countered. "We go to rescue the commissioner's mole."
"...and then we blow the place up?" Trixie offered.
"Yes!" Max proclaimed.
Sam wavered for a time. "Sure, why not?" he finally relented. "Let's go, little buddies!"
"Have fun storming ze casino!" Bosco called after them, waving happily.
As the trio entered the casino, the doorman in the oversized bear head greeted them. "Welcome to Ted E. Bear's Mafia Free Playland and Casino."
"Ahh!" Max cried.
"That face!" Sam agreed.
"Trixie likes it," Trixie commented. "Would make a nice bludgeon."
"My name's Lovey Bear. Boy, do we have some fun and games for you," Lovey Bear said, his voice monotone. "Here, take this token amount of tokens as our way of welcome and go spend a lot of money." He handed tokens to all three of them.
"Trixie can gamble, too?" Trixie asked in shock.
"Ted E. Bear's Mafia Free Playland and Casino does not discriminate its customers on the basis of age, race, religion, gender, or species," Lovey Bear replied. "Only on whether or not they have money."
As Sam and Max had their discussion about the similarities between the bear head and the hypno-bear, Trixie decided to follow the actual mission as a distraction. "Does the carpet match the drapes?"
"If Don Ted E. Bear says so, they do!" Lovey Bear replied.
Realizing this wasn't the mole, Trixie decided to go play some games. She tried playing the 'Whack the Rat' game, but during her play, one of her bullets went wide in her excitement and lodged in the crystal clown nose over the entrance, slightly distorting the reflection it gave off, changing how things looked in the reflection, though it was difficult to notice unless you saw the crystal get hit.
When she finally won the game, she frowned. "A magnet?" she asked. "This is all the prize for Trixie's efforts? Trixie will not be playing this game again!" She turned away with a huff.
Unable to reach the slot machines, Trixie wandered to the table in the center. "What's this game?" she asked.
"A little girl wants to play against me?" the other man at the table asked, his long face bald save for a mustache.
"I almost feel guilty taking your money...almost."
Trixie frowned. "Who are you?"
"Steakcharmer. Leonard Steackcharmer. Best card player in the casino."
Trixie glowered at him, not liking, his attitude. "Trixie will defeat you! None are greater than the Great and Powerful Trixie!"
Steakcharmer chuckled evilly. "Your loss."
"What is the game?" Trixie demanded.
"Truest test of skill there is: Indian Poker."
"Trixie knows that game!" Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie will beat you!"
Leonard laughed. "I'm so confident I'll win, I'll bet all 10 million of my tokens against just one of yours."
"You will regret your bravado!" Trixie proclaimed.
As the dealer dealt out the cards, Trixie put hers to her forehead while Leonard did the same. Trixie could see his card was a four of spades. He glanced upwards towards the crystal clown nose and grinned. "I bet everything I've got the higher card. You just gotta bet one."
Trixie grinned widely. "Trixie bets!" She pushed a token forward.
Leonard chuckled as he laid his card down. "Sorry, you lose-"
"The pony wins," the dealer said in a monotone voice as Trixie's card was revealed as the ten of diamonds.
"What?" Leonard gasped out. "I...you...you cheated me!"
Trixie blinked. "Accusing a little girl of cheating? How low are you. You are just upset that you were soundly beaten by the Great and Powerful Trixie!"
"Pay up, Steakcharmer," the dealer ordered.
"Mama, why weren't you watching over me?" Steakcharmer wailed. "I'm ruined!" He fled the casino in tears.
Shrugging, Trixie pushed her winnings into her hat. Turning to the dealer, she asked, "Does the carpet match the drapes?"
"Wanna play cards?" he replied.
Shrugging, Trixie clambered over to Steakcharmer's seat. Picking up the discarded four, she held it to her hat and glanced upwards. In the reflection of the crystal clown nose, the distortion from her bullet caused the four to look like an ace. "Huh. Cool." Dropping the card, she hopped down from the table and began wandering around the casino.
From what she heard from the bear workers, the Don was in the back room. There was also some sort of password to get in. She turned to ask Sam and Max about the password.
It was at that point she realized she'd gotten separated from them. "Daddy?" she asked nervously. "U-uncle Sam?" She started to shiver fearfully. "Where are you?"
When there was no response, she whimpered deep in her throat and walked up to the guard at the door to the back room. "I can't find my Daddy!" she whined.
The guard shifted as though panicked, although she couldn't see his face. "What does your Daddy look like?"
"Umm...he's got big ears, a big smile, and a big gun?" she offered.
"Hmm..." the guard mumbled. "That describes everyone who works here. Does your Daddy work here?"
Trixie shrugged. "Daddy brought me here on the job..."
"He must work here, then," the guard replied. He gently scooped her up. "The Don will help you find your Daddy, don't you worry." He turned to the door and opened it, stepping through as it closed.
In the back room, the red bear headed figure stepped forward. "Why are you bringing a kid back here?"
"She can't find her father," the guard explained.
The other man sighed. "I'll take it from here." He took Trixie from his arms. "I'm Chuckles. Come on, the Don and I will find where your Daddy is."
Carrying her into the section of the back room, he pointed her at the cameras. "Alright. Do you see your old man?"
Trixie looked at the cameras. She then gasped and pointed. "There he is!" she said happily, pointing Max out.
Chuckles turned to one of the other 'bears'. "Get the dog and rabbit in here."
Before long, Sam and Max were brought back. "Daddy!" Trixie said happily, leaping into Max's arms.
He caught her happily. "There you are, Trixie! Where were you?"
"Winning!" Trixie said happily.
"You should keep better track of your little girl," the Don said. "Family is important, after all."
"We do our best," Sam replied. "But kids this age have a mind of their own."
"All too true," the Don agreed.
Seeing that everyone she hadn't already asked the code phrase of was there, Trixie decided to speak up. "Does the carpet match the drapes?"
"They're cops!" the Don gasped out. "Get them!"
Trixie leapt from Max's arms as Sam and Max raced out of the casino, nearly the entire mob after them. Trixie ran further in, through a door she forced open with magic, into a factory area.
"Stop!" the Don shouted, having removed his bear head to reveal the face of a mole. "This place is fragile! You aren't supposed to be back here!"
Running in fear, Trixie bounced from console to console, accidentally stepping on buttons and throwing switches. Alarms began to blare. "Trixie is not sticking around for whatever happens next!" As the mole tried to fix the controls, Trixie ran out of the casino.
Sam and Max were just pulling back up - having apparently dealt with the mobsters - as she ran out, the exploding casino sending her into the air and flying into Max's arms.
"Looks like we did blow the place up, after all," Sam commented.
"No, Trixie did!" Max corrected. "Why didn't you wait for me?"
"Trixie didn't mean to..." she pouted cutely.
"Well, we can report to the commissioner that his mole was a traitor. Another case solved!" Sam proclaimed happily.
As Trixie climbed up the stairs to the office in the morning, she heard Sam's shout. "Sweet suffering Saint Sebastian on the sousaphone in a short story by Susan Sontag! We're on our way!"
"New case?" Trixie asked as Mr. Squishy scampered from Max's hand back into her hat. She wondered what the bug had been doing with Max. She'd ask later.
"Indeed," Sam intoned. "We need to investigate...the President of the United States of America."
"Who?" Max asked.
"Trixie's with Daddy. The who of where?"
While he might have ignored Max's casual ignorance, Sam quickly realized that Trixie genuinely had no knowledge, as opposed to Max's short attention span. "He's the leader of the country," he explained. "And he's gone nuts! He's enacting all kinds of crazy new laws."
"What else is new?" Max asked.
"...crazy by whose definition?" Trixie asked, glancing at Max.
"Federally mandated group hugs before, during, and after all major sporting events!" Sam began.
"So?" Max asked.
"We do that anyway," Trixie pointed out.
"He's curtailing civil liberties! Threatening the environment!"
"Hey, that makes four of us!" Max inferred.
"Trixie did accidentally blow up a building without evacuating it first."
"And, he's about to introduce mandatory gun registration!" Sam finished.
Max drew his gun. "Get the keys."
"What's gun registration?" Trixie asked in confusion.
"It means you have to fill out a whole lot of paperwork designed to be frustrating and make you give up just to own a gun," Sam explained.
Trixie pulled out a box of matches. "Get the keys."
"Where'd you get the matches?" Sam asked in concern.
"Bosco gave them to me," Trixie pointed out. "Speaking of, can we visit him first? Trixie is hungry!"
"Yeah, we need to feed Trixie before we drive all the way to the White House," Max pointed out.
Sam sighed. "Alright, let's go."
On the way to Bosco's, they saw Hugh Bliss with a huge pile of his Emetics books behind him. "Look, Max!" Sam pointed out. "It's our favorite cultish crackpot, Hugh Bliss!"
"Trixie is hungry!" Trixie complained.
"We'll talk later, Hugh!" Max called out as the trio rushed into Bosco's.
Hugh Bliss sighed. "Am I the only one with the feeling that I might as well be a cameo this episode?"
Once inside Bosco's, they were rather unsurprised to discover him in yet another disguise. "What's shaking, Bosco?" Sam asked calmly.
"Ah, greetings comrades dog and rabbit and pony," Bosco replied.
"I'm having trouble placing the accent this month," Sam pointed out. "Mid-Atlantic states? The San Fernando Valley?"
"The hat doesn't give much clue either," Trixie pointed out, staring at the brown fur cap with a red star that was Bosco's only real disguise.
"I get more of a vague Baltic vibe," Max pointed out. "Something in a light Czech pattern."
"Ha ha!" Bosco laughed. "Comrade Maximilian makes the funny joke. I am Vladimir Illyevich Boscovorski, Russian Proprietor of Workers' Glorious Warehouse of Inconvenience, no?"
"No," Max countered.
"But now I make new start in America which I love!" Bosco said happily. "So is no need to aiming sophisticated targeting equipment at me!"
"So what's with your disguise this time?" Sam asked. "Who's after you this time?"
"The Feds, man!" Bosco gasped out. "Uncle Sam! The government's watching us all the time!"
Trixie glanced up at Sam, pulled her cape more tightly about her body, and scooted closer to Max.
"Not your Uncle Sam, sweetie," Bosco quickly reassured her. "He is proper Russian worker, secretly working to overthrow fascist regime!" Smiling, Bosco gave Trixie some pastila to ease her mind.
Quickly distracted, Trixie ate her candy while Sam and Max discussed Bosco's latest bout of paranoia, and the design of his missile defense system. She returned her attention to the conversation just in time to hear Bosco talk about what was for sale.
"Is most glorious invention comrades!" Bosco declared proudly. "Is useful for how you say, questioning?"
"Ques-tion-ing," Max replied, enunciating.
"Is truth serum!" Bosco began.
"Trixie will take it!" Trixie proclaimed. "How much?"
"Is good!" Bosco proclaimed. "Price is 867.5309 Rubles."
Trixie pulled out her hat and reached in. "Umm...will you take 868 Rubles? Ruble fractions aren't legal currency, so the spell on the hat won't produce them..."
"Nyet! Exact change only!" Bosco proclaimed.
"So...how much in American Dollars, then?" Trixie asked.
"One hundred million dollars," Bosco stated.
Pulling out a small suitcase, Trixie opened it to reveal 100 stacks of $10,000 bills, each stack 100 bills thick.
Bosco crowed happily. "Now I can finally finish my satellite defense system!"
"And Trixie gets the truth serum?" Trixie asks.
"Sure!" Bosco replied. "Let me dig it up from the labs." Reaching under the counter, Bosco pulled out a large bottle labeled 'BoscoTech Vodka'.
"You're selling alcohol to a minor?" Sam asked. "When you're worried the government is after you?"
"...is problem?" Bosco asked in concern.
"Not really," Max pointed out. "We're just checking."
Trixie slipped the bottle into her hat. "Now off to deal with the President!"
Arriving at the White House, Trixie hopped out of the Desoto while Sam and Max argued over who was at fault for crashing into the mailbox before exploring the front lawn. Deciding to get things started, she approached the front door, only to be stopped by a secret service agent.
"And just where do you think you're going, Miss?" he asked quite calmly.
"Trixie needs to see the President!" Trixie proclaimed.
"One sec." The agent put his hand to his ear. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. Possible situation at the front door. Talking tiny unicorn trying to gain access to the OO. Please advise, over."
"Superball?" Trixie asked.
"Yeah, that's a negative on the access permissions, miss," the agent replied, removing his hand.
"But Trixie is Freelance Police!" Trixie proclaimed. "You are impeding a police investigation! Trixie will arrest you!"
"Do you have a search warrant?" Agent Superball asked in his calm, monotone voice.
"A what?" Trixie asked in confusion.
"It's a document signed by a Judge letting you demand access to a specific building in order to search for something," Superball explained.
"Uh...of course Trixie has one!" Trixie proclaimed. "Just a second!" Turning around, she pulled out paper and crayons and began scribbling rapidly. After a time, she turned around and held up the sheet of paper in her mouth. "Fee?"
Sirch Woe-Rant! Address: Whyt Hows Subjict of Sirch: Hip-no-sys Signed: Major Judge Ursa
Superball read through the paper. "I'm having a hard time believing this is a legal search warrant," he explained. "Who is this Major Judge Ursa?"
"Here he is!" Trixie proclaimed, pulling out Major Ursa, on whom she'd attached a white powder wig on his head and a gavel rubber banded to his paw.
Superball stared at her for a time, then put his hand to his ear. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. New development in the situation. Adorableness of talking unicorn filly has exceeded 9000. Please advise, over." He listened for a time, then lowered his hand. "You are not cleared to enter as a police officer, but you can come in with a photo op with the president."
"Can Daddy and Uncle Sam come too?" Trixie asked. "Trixie isn't supposed to go into a stranger's house alone."
Superball put his hand to his head. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. Filly requests accompaniment by adult male family members, over." After a moment, he nodded. "You're cleared."
"Yay!" Trixie proclaimed happily. "Daddy! Uncle Sam! Trixie got us in to see the President!"
"She's frighteningly effective at times, isn't she?" Sam asked as he followed her in.
"Must take after me," Max replied. "We'd get these cases done a lot faster if you used some of my ideas."
"Max, killing everyone involved may be efficient, but it won't give us any answers," Sam pointed out.
As the trio entered the oval office, the President was giving a rather nonsensical speech to the cameras about a "pudding embargo". It was a little above Trixie's understanding, so she wasn't able to follow it at all. She turned to Sam and Max for an explanation.
"It's worse than we thought!" Sam proclaimed. "He's crazier than a caffeine-addled dingo in an Adelaide maternity ward!"
"So it's okay that Trixie doesn't understand it?" Trixie asked.
"It doesn't really make much sense," Sam confirmed.
"I think he makes a lot of good points!" Max disagreed. "Those puddings are trying to steal our jobs! And I especially like how he does that spinny thing with his eyes!"
As the trio looked closely at the diminutive President's eyes, Sam let out a gasp. "By the whiskey soaked beard of Ulysses S. Grant!"
"He's been hypnotized!" Trixie gasped.
"You're right!" Sam agreed. "We need to snap him out of it, and pronto!"
"How do we do that again?" Max asked absent mindedly.
"We hit him over the head to knock him out," Sam explained, "like we do with all hypnotized people."
"We didn't hit Myra over the head," Max pointed out. "I was rather disappointed about that."
"Or we have Trixie work some sort of magic that breaks the hypnosis, however that works," Sam continued.
A rather burly, angry looking secret service agent stepped up beside the diminutive POTUS.
"As soon as we figure out how to get past that guy," Sam muttered under his breath.
"You're here for the photo shoot?" the angry looking SS agent growled.
"Aww, ain't you just the cutest, sweetest little thing to ever walk through those doors!" the President said happily. "Those cameras still rolling? Good! Now you come here and gimme a big ol' hug!" He held his arms out to Trixie.
Trixie lowered her head so her hat would hide her grin. "Opportunity..." she whispered. Raising her head, she smiled wide and innocently. "Hug!" she called happily in her cutest voice. Rushing forward, she leapt into the diminutive President's lap, her hoof just happening to impact the underside of his chin. "Oop-"
Her 'accident' proclomation was quickly cut off. Instead of the President's head smacking back against his chair, knocking him out to allow them to break the hypnosis, it popped right off his neck to bounce around the room before crashing through the window.
"Trixie didn't do it!" Trixie shouted in panic.
"They don't make Presidents like they used to," Max commented.
"That's not the President!" Sam cried out. "That's a hypnosis puppet, like that bear that was controlling Myra!"
"The drawstring in his back should have been a tip off," Max commented.
"So...knocking his head off on live TV is...good?" Trixie asked nervously.
"Yes!" Sam proclaimed proudly. "You've just saved the entire country from a massive brainwashing conspiracy!"
"Oh. Yeah, then Trixie definitely did that!" Trixie said proudly.
The Secret Service agent stepped back off camera and put his hand to his ear. "Agents Jackson! Burr! N'degayembe! We are moving the timeline forward. Commence phase two of the operation. I'll prepare the candidate." He then immediately left the oval office.
Trixie glanced around. "Umm...what just happened?"
"He's the bad guy!" Max exclaimed.
"And he has a backup plan!" Sam added. As the ground began to shake from footfalls, he turned to the window. "What's that?"
Running outside, the trio saw the SS agent riding on the shoulder of a statue of Abraham Lincoln...which began giving a speech to the press about how he was running for office in a special election.
"Blessed scuba diving Buddha on a banana boat with cocktail onions and a map to the stars' homes!" Sam proclaimed. "They've reanimated America's most beloved President!"
When the nearby phone rang, Sam raced over to pick it up. Trixie, meanwhile, was watching the platform. "Daddy?" she asked. "Why's the other podium empty?"
"Cause he doesn't have an opponent yet," Max replied.
"So...anyone can get up there and run for President?" Trixie asked eagerly.
"As long as they were born in America and are over 40," Max confirmed.
Trixie pouted. Then she got speculative. "Daddy? Do you meet those criteria?"
Max gasped. "What a great idea!" He raced over to the podium.
Sam came back over. "That was the commissioner," he told Trixie. "If this new mecha-Lincoln wins the emergency election, the nefarious forces controlling him will have unchecked power to destroy the entire free world!"
"So it's a good thing Daddy's running against him?" Trixie asked, pointing to where Max had taken the podium.
"God help us all," Sam muttered.
After managing to actually get Max up on the podium, Sam did his best to try and keep things under control regarding the actual debate. Unfortunately, Max seemed to be doing his best to skew the debate as far as possible into total chaos.
Out of desperation, Sam asked for both candidates to state their views on family values. After Lincoln gave his speech about his loyalty to Mrs. Lincoln, Sam hung his head as Max started to clear his throat.
"Daddy?" Trixie spoke up from beside the platform. "Can Trixie field this question?"
Max smiled. "Sure, schnookums." He turned to the camera. "Rather than answer this question myself, I want to let my daughter, the Great and Powerful Trixie, give a statement she has prepared. You may know her as that adorable unicorn filly who's been topping the charts in that single episode of Midtown Cowboys, and the one who revealed the mass hypnosis conspiracy by breaking the fake-President puppet on live, national TV! She also blew up the secret hideout of the Toy Mafia! Presenting, Trixie!" Max stepped back, clapping, before turning to help Trixie onto the podium.
Looking at the polls, Sam saw that just Trixie's introduction had shifted the polls quite a bit. Lincoln only had 50% of the public approval, and Max had the other 50%. Nader was holding strong with 1% somehow, but the polls did mention the possibility of a 1% margin of error.
Trixie cleared her throat. "Trixie is an orphan," she began carefully. "A foundling. Trixie doesn't know where she came from, and has no certain memory from before she was found. Trixie was found by Max.
"When he found Trixie, he could have turned Trixie over to any number of government programs that handle unwanted children...but he instead made sure Trixie wasn't unwanted. He took Trixie in. He became Trixie's Daddy."
Trixie smiled warmly at Max. "Daddy made sure Trixie was fed, was clean, was taken care of, was loved. Daddy saw to it that Uncle Sam provided well for Trixie, even when Uncle Sam didn't always agree. Daddy was just that good to Trixie."
Sam privately assumed that the sudden swing of the polls in Max's favor was because most of the public thought Trixie meant the government, rather than an actual Uncle.
Trixe continued her statement. "And now Trixie is happy, and healthy...and loved. Trixie doesn't know much about family...but Trixie loves her Daddy! He's wonderful!" Turning, she threw herself into Max's arms, snuggling against his cheek. Max held her gently, cradling her.
...Max won the emergency election by a total landslide...100% of the votes.
"How is that possible?" the SS agent demanded in shock.
"Are you kidding?" Lincoln proclaimed. "That little filly's a national hero, and adopted? Even I voted for him after hearing that speech! How could you not?"
"Dammit!" the agent swore as Trixie bounced happily around, cheering about Max being President and her being First Daughter. "Then we'll just have to go with plan C and mass hypnotize-"
"Nope!" Lincoln countered. "Trixie's made it plain that politics is now nothing more than a popularity contest about who looks best on TV. I don't want anything to do with that!"
"But the plan!" the agent complained.
Lincoln picked the annoying suited individual up off his shoulders. "As this generation says...fuck your plan!" Dropping the man, he brought his foot down on him, squishing him flat. "I'm heading to Hollywood. Maybe I can get a job killing vampires or something." And with that, the reanimated statue of Abraham Lincoln set off west.
Trixie, however, began to sing about her success. "Trixie's...the First Daughter of the First Family of the First Country in the world...so worship her you lowly peasants!"
Trixie's approval ratings skyrocketed for being too adorable.
"So you're the President now, right Daddy?" Trixie asked happily.
"That's right, schnookums!" Max replied expansively. "I own this country now! I'm going to rule it with an iron fist!"
"At least until reelection," Sam muttered under his breath.
"What reelection?" Max asked. "I introduced a bill to Congress to make me President for Life under the heading 'Don't Make Little Ponies Cry', with a picture of sad Trixie on the top. It got universal approval without anyone reading any of the details!"
"Trixie is best actor!" Trixie proclaimed proudly.
"I never should have let the two of you out of my sight," Sam sighed. "So what's my position in your new totalitarian government?"
"Oh, you're still Vice President, Sam," Max hastened to reassure him. "That authority hasn't changed, though you're also my Press Secretary."
"So I'm your Yes-Man whose job it is to make your inhumane policy decisions sound humane to the general public?" Sam translated.
"So he does what he's always done?" Trixie asked curiously.
"At least until the violent revolutionary coup," Sam mused worriedly.
"And that's why Maimtron 9000 is my new Secretary of Defense!" Max pointed out. "He's in charge of keeping the peace!"
"I will keep the peace if I must keep it in pieces!" the newly crafted 'defense' robot proclaimed.
"Trixie made the AI!" Trixie proclaimed.
"How'd you do that?" Sam asked.
"Trixie drew a binding circle in the CPU and summoned a demon of slaughter," Trixie explained.
"It kept calling me Daddy for some reason," Max confessed in confusion.
"So Maimtron 9000's also my brother!" Trixie said happily.
"Definitely never should have left you two unsupervised," Sam muttered under his breath.
It had been three days since the emergency election, and Sam was surprised America wasn't already in chaos. Max had used the Constitution as toilet paper, passed inhumane policy decisions left and right, and made a mockery of everything the country once stood for as he twisted it into his own perception of what it really was. And yet, somehow, his approval ratings were the highest of any President since the government started running approval polls. The citizens actually questioned gave one of three reasons as to why they approved so highly of President Max. The first reason was because they genuinely believed that this would return America to the world power they felt it should be. The second reason was that they identified with Max, in that he was the sort of President they always wanted or wanted to be. The third reason was because Trixie genuinely believed that Max was good, and a child that adorable couldn't be wrong.
Sam had privately begun suspecting that Trixie's immunity to hypnosis was because she actually subconsciously emanated a hypnotic field of her own that subliminaly caused anyone who heard her voice to unconsciously bend to her will unless protected by a more powerful magic, had the compulsion overridden by a stronger magic, or had a brain chemistry incompatible with hypnosis like Max did. He was certain it was subconscious if it existed, because if she was aware of it she'd be bragging about it...to Max, if no one else, and Max could never keep his mouth shut about something he'd find that awesome.
"So what will we do next, Daddy?"
Max smiled. "Well, I think we need to make some changes to Congress! It's just so boring as it is."
Trixie frowned. "There's also way too many stupid bills coming through. We need to make it so only the important stuff gets presented."
"Well, you could always make the procedures humiliating so that the Congressmen will only present those bills their constituents feel really strongly about," Sam offered jokingly.
"Yes!" Max proclaimed. "All Congressmen must be dressed as mimes while in session!"
"And all bills must be presented in a combination of mime and interpretive dance!" Trixie offered.
"Genius!" Max agreed. "I shall use the new procedural retcon powers the 'Don't Make Little Ponies Cry Bill' granted me to make it so!"
"And every session of Congress shall be broadcast live to the entire world, so the benefits of being a congressman won't be worth the humiliation to anyone except those to whom the smooth running of the country is of supreme importance!" Trixie added.
"Or those who love being humiliated in public," Sam pointed out.
"There's a difference?" Max asked.
"I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut sometimes," Sam muttered.
"And you thought Daddy had problems there!" Trixie proclaimed happily.
"Ahem!" Specs coughed loudly, trying to get attention.
"Did you need a cough drop?" Max asked.
"Mr. President, you've been keeping us waiting for three days!" Peepers complained. "We need to discuss the proposed plans regarding Mount Rushmore."
"Is blowing it up one of the proposed plans?" Max asked.
"Umm...no..." Specs admitted.
"And just like that, you've lost my interest," Max replied, turning his attention back to the papers on his desk. "Oh, someone's complaining about how much money you've been pulling out of your hat, Trixie. Presidential declaration: when the Great and Powerful Trixie does it, it's not breaking the law!"
Trixie's grin nearly broke her face.
"You'll still get grounded if you break house rules," Sam cautioned.
Trixie's grin turned into an adorable pout.
"Aw, don't be sad, Trixie," Whizzer comforted, scratching her behind one ear. "I won't snitch on you."
Trixie smiled up at him. "Thanks. So what are you three arguing about?"
"Oh, we all have different plans for what to do with Mount Rushmore to advance our own personal agendas," he replied. "I want to turn it into a soda abuse awareness monument."
"Ah," Trixie replied, not really following. "So...what do your brothers want to do with it?"
"Peepers wants to add Hoover to it, hugging the other presidents."
"Really?" Trixie asked, her expression most vapid.
"Yeah, Specs thinks that idea is really stupid," Whizzer said unguardedly.
"He does?" Trixie asked, as though she didn't have a brain in her head.
"You do?" Peepers demanded of Specs.
"Yeah!" Whizzer continued, eager to impress Trixie. "He said it was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard!"
"What?" Peepers shouted in shock.
"Well it is!" Specs snapped. "Hoover wasn't even a President, which means he certainly wasn't 'the most loving of all Presidents'!"
"Well at least I didn't want to put a parking lot on George Washington's forehead, like some four eyed freaks I know!" Peepers snapped.
"You little...!" Specs growled.
"You big...!" Peepers growled right back.
"Of course you realize...this means war!" Specs proclaimed.
"War!" Peepers agreed.
"War?" Trixie asked Whizzer cutely.
"War!" Whizzer proclaimed.
The three Soda Poppers turned governers promptly zipped out of the oval office. Trixie turned happily to Max. "Trixie did it, Daddy!" she proclaimed. "Trixie started a war just by being cute!"
"I knew you had it in you, schnookums!" Max proclaimed. "Daddy's so proud!" Music started to play as Agent Superball appeared in the room. "What's that?"
Trixie frowned as she sat in the 'Bad Pony' chair in the corner of the office as Sam read off the details regarding Max's Presidential agenda.
"Unrest in the Dakotas?" Sam asked.
"Dispatch equal numbers of giant battle robots to each faction," Max replied. "Whoever survives, claim we backed them all along."
"Illegal immigration," Sam continued, going down the list of issues.
"Let the new guys pilot the giant battle robots," Max decided.
"Criticism that your domestic policy is too giant-battle-robot based?" Sam finished.
"Ask them to explain their criticisms to First Daughter Trixie without making her cry for criticizing her Daddy," Max smirked. "If she cries, they're target practice for my new press secretary, her big brother Maimtron-9000. If not, I'll hear them out."
"If Trixie is such an important part of the government," Trixie demanded, "why is she in the corner?"
"And started a cookout in the Lincoln bedroom," Max reminded her.
"Abe said it was okay!" Trixie argued.
"And left it unattended while you came to find us," Sam continued.
"Trixie couldn't find anything to cook!"
"Spilling lighter fluid all over the place as the still wet paint dripped from the roof into the open flames," Max concluded.
"Trixie is seven!" Trixie complained. "She doesn't know any better!"
"And you still haven't apologized," Sam pointed out.
Trixie blinked. "Eh?"
"You do need to apologize for what you've done," Max agreed, startling Sam.
Trixie hung her head. "Trixie is sorry for accidentally burning down the Powder Blue House, Uncle Sam" she mumbled.
"Apology accepted," Sam stated.
"And mine?" Max asked.
Trixie thought for a time. "Trixie is sorry for burning down the White House without you, Daddy."
"Apology accepted," Max stated.
"You can come out of the corner now," Sam stated.
Trixie blinked. "That's it?"
"Yup!" Max confirmed. "As long as you say you're sorry and really mean it, anything can be forgiven."
Sam stared at Max in surprise. "While I agree with the sentiment somewhat, it's the last thing I expected you to say, little buddy."
"Only in the case of Trixie, of course," Max added.
"Oh, of course," Sam agreed. "That makes much more sense."
Trixie smiled as she climbed out of the corner, filing that information away for later exploitation. "Nopony puts Trixie in the corner," she muttered.
"Good thing we aren't ponies then, huh?" Max asked cheekily. The phone rang. "If that's the guys from Air Force One," he said as Sam picked up the phone, "tell them they get the keys back when they say the magic word."
"Quiet, Max, it's the commissioner!" Sam stated.
Max and Trixie immediately turned their heads to listen.
"Total collapse of the economy and downfall of Western civilization?" Sam gasped. "Great grinning head of John the Baptist in a porkpie hat stuffed in a rhinestone bowling bag!"
"If Trixie knew what half those things were, how scarring would that mental image be?" Trixie asked.
"I'd give it a 4," Max replied.
"We're on our way!" Sam finished as he hung up the phone. "We've got a computer crisis to take care of, little buddies!"
"Have they tried, turning it off and turning it back on again?" Max asked.
"It's bigger than that-"
"Can we solve it with giant battle robots?" Trixie interrupted.
"Probably not," Sam admitted. "Computers everywhere are going haywire! Planes are falling from the sky! Nuclear reactors are nearing meltdown!"
"And scores of pasty white nerds will be forced to go outdoors and socialize with normal people!" Max concluded.
"Trixie needs popcorn!" the little filly declared. "She can't watch the world end without popcorn!"
"Good point," Max agreed. "Let's make popcorn before the power grid crashes!"
"Or we could work to fix it," Sam suggested.
Trixie and Max both stared at him. "Where's the fun in that?" they asked together.
"If the world ends, you can't catch your favorite TV shows," Sam pointed out.
Trixie gasped. "We must stop these criminals at once! Trixie will not miss the next episode of Technological Technicolor Technomare for anything!"
"I still think that show's ripping you off, Trixie," Max pointed out.
"How could it?" Trixie asked. "Trixie is a unicorn, not a pegasus!"
"So where do we start, Sam?" Max spoke up, abandoning the former topic and pretending it never existed.
"The National Consortium of Smart People Who Are Good With Computers-"
"But terrible with acronyms," Trixie interrupted.
"-has been tracking electron surges all over the country," Sam explained. "And one of the biggest is right here in our neighborhood!"
"What an unbelievably convenient coincidence!" Max agreed. "How do we find an 'electron surge'?"
"Sounds techy," Trixie pointed out. "We could ask Bosco."
"Good idea!" Sam praised. "Let's go!"
Entering Bosco's shop, they found him wearing a single elf ear. As this was the least odd thing they'd seen him wearing in the past few months, they ignored it. "Hey Bosco," Sam said happily.
"Greetings and well met, friend Watchmen-for-hire!" he proclaimed in an exaggerated but unidentifiable accent.
"Sam, how come I suddenly have a primal desire to beat Bosco savagely?" Max asked.
"Because he hasn't given Trixie candy?" Trixie suggested.
"But of course, young filly!" Bosco proclaimed, handing her a bag of chocolate gold coins.
Trixie happily began gobbling the coins - peeling off the gilt wrapping first - as Sam, Max, and Bosco began discussing Bosco's latest disguise, his interest in living online instead of in the real world, the possible implications that had to his sanity...and Bosco's announcement that he was presently only accepting electronic payments for products.
"So Trixie can't purchase the virulent biological weapon here?" Trixie pouted. "Even if she has a billion dollars?"
"Nay, fair maiden," Bosco replied. "Only through the pathways of the ether will I accept payment!"
Trixie pouted adorably.
"Sorry, Trixie," Bosco apologized in his normal tone of voice. "I've already completely converted the store to online. It'll take me a week to change it back, minimum."
Trixie sighed. "Fine," she pouted. "We'll pay online, somehow. Maybe Sybil's got something more interesting today." With that, she turned to leave the store, Sam and Max following after her. On her way out, she grabbed Jimmy Two Teeth and his cannon in her telekinetic grip. "Trixie special presidential privilege! Out!" With that, she hurled the rat and cannon from the store.
On entering Sybil Pandemik's office, they discovered her wearing unusual eyewear and flailing about. "I'm surrounded!" she shouted. "Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt!"
"Why is she wearing a headset with funky spirals?" Trixie asked.
"Gadzooks!" Sam proclaimed. "She must be hypnotized."
"Back pit demons!" Sybil proclaimed. "With sword of righteous fury I cast thee away!"
"Or she got a new job as an exorcist and is after Daddy," Trixie suggested.
"No, definitely hypnosis," Sam professed certainly. "We need to find a way to get those goggles off of her, and break the hypnosis."
"Launch stinging BB's of holy smiting!" Sybil commanded.
"Do we have to?" Max asked. "She's a lot more interesting this way."
"While true, we still need to help her," Sam argued. "Given the pattern of our last four cases, I'd wager this has something to do with the computer crisis we've been asked to investigate!" He rubbed his chin. "Now how are we going to get close enough to deliver a blow to her head with her flailing about like-"
Trixie's magical aura surrounded the goggles, and the hypnotic spirals vanished. "Hey! I hadn't saved yet!" Sybil complained.
"How'd you do that, Trixie?" Max inquired.
"They're mechanical," Trixie explained. "They had an off switch."
"What do you mean you hadn't saved?" Sam inquired.
Sybil took the goggles off. "I'm a beta tester for Reality 2.0, the new game craze sweeping the nation. I was using these goggles for the new VR interface!"
Trixie zoned out as Sybil started explaining what, exactly, Reality 2.0 was. She was examining the goggles. "How much electricity does this game use?" she asked curiously.
Sybil paused. "Quite a lot, I'd say," Sybil admitted. "Certainly enough for the wi-fi hot spots - like the one the admins have at what used to be Lefty's - to create massive electron surges."
"That must be what's behind our computer crisis!" Sam proclaimed. "Sybil, is it alright if we take those goggles as evidence as we investigate this?"
"Go ahead," Sybil groaned, putting her hand to her head. "Now that I'm unplugged, so to speak, the sugar crash is hitting me harrrr..." Her voice trailed off as she slumped into slumber.
Trixie covered her with a blanket. "To next door!" she proclaimed.
As the trio entered the building next door to Sybil's office, they found the entire place dark save for a single light illuminating four machines: an old arcade cabinet wearing an illegible name tag; an ancient type-and-talk machine wearing a name tag that read "Curt"; an obsolete touch tone wired phone wearing a "Bob" name tag; and some sort of beep machine wearing a name tag that read "Chippy".
As they entered, the type-and-talk device spoke up in a badly synthesized voice. "NeXt ItEm On ThE aGeNdA."
"Chippy" beeped loudly.
"If you'd like to talk about the bake sale and raffle, press 1 now!" 'Bob' said happily. "If you know the name of the topic you'd like to raise, press 2 now!"
"I HUNGER!" the arcade cabinet proclaimed.
"ReFrEsHmEnTs WiLl Be SeRvEd AfTeR tHe MeEtInG," 'Curt' pointed out.
Walking up to 'Bob', Trixie pushed 2.
"PROXIMITY ALERT!" the arcade cabinet proclaimed.
"Hello, and welcome to the Computer Obsolescence Prevention Society," 'Bob' stated happily. "What is the topic you would like to raise?"
"Why do these goggles use hypnosis?" Trixie asked.
"FoR fUlL iMmErSiOn," Curt replied.
"TOTAL ANNIHILATION!" the arcade cabinet agreed.
"Hypnosis is used to relax the mind of the player in Reality 2.0 so that the sensations of the game feel more real than those of the real world, so that players are not taken out of it by a sense of disorientation created by dual nerve signals!" Bob proclaimed happily. "All safety regulations are properly met! There is nothing to be concerned about!"
"You know, that actually makes sense," Max admitted dryly.
"Scary," Sam agreed.
"If you would like to join the Internet and experience Reality 2.0 for yourself, please say "Yes" now!" Bob suggested.
"What's the internet have to do with Reality 2.0?" Sam asked.
"ThE iNtErNeT cOnTrOlS eVeRy-"
Trixie suddenly zapped Curt with her horn.
"-thing," Curt concluded, his voice now much smoother though still distinctly his own.
"Thank goodness," Trixie groaned. "Trixie was getting a headache listening to that."(1)
"The internet dreams of a world beyond this one," Bob continued to explain. "A world of games. A world of commerce. A world with neither boundaries nor exits. Now, using the combined computing power of an entire planet, that dream is becoming a reality...Reality 2.0!"
"IT'S TOTALLY AWESOME!" the arcade machine - which Trixie could see was labeled 'Blunder Blaster' despite the illegible name tag - proclaimed.
"Wait...the internet?" Max asked in confusion.
"It makes sense," Sam pointed out. "Only an entity with access to universal knowledge could cause computerized chaos on a global scale."
"The internet's...an entity?" Trixie asked. "You mean like that movie we watched with the robot who did a very bad job pretending to be a human while trying to stop the other robot from killing the little kid?"
"The Internet has no intention of causing anyone harm!" Bob proclaimed. "The Internet only wants to bring everyone together in the peace, happiness, and exciting gameplay of Reality 2.0!"
Chippy beeped in agreement.
"We'd like to talk to the Internet about that ourselves," Sam said curtly.
"The only access to the Internet is through Reality 2.0!" Bob pointed out. "If you would like to join the Internet and experience Reality 2.0 for yourself, please say "Yes" now!"
"Yes!" Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie desires to play this game!" Trixie pulled out the goggles they got from Sybil. "But the goggles don't fit..."
"The whole family can enjoy Reality 2.0!" Bob proclaimed happily. "Take our complimentary goggles designed for special needs children so that the little ones can play along too!"
Blunder Blaster opened a compartment, revealing two differently shaped pairs of VR goggles. "ALSO IN PET SIZES!" he proclaimed.
"We have no idea why we designed those," Curt pointed out.
"Yay!" Trixie proclaimed, grabbing the pet size goggles and putting them on her face. Max mimicked her actions with the 'special needs child size', and Sam used the pair they got from Trixie.
Once the goggles were activated, the room around them was still there...but now super high tech, with virtual images of the four older computational devices floating in clear tubes of various colors.
"Hey, neat!" Sam said as he looked around.
"I had a dream like this once," Max points out. "You sold me a defective walrus, and then vanished in a puff of orange smoke."
"Trixie likes this place."
An HUD displaying a computer chip with a face dropped down into the VR view
"Welcome to Reality 2.0," the face told them, "the perfect place of perfect happiness. I'm your host, the Internet."
"I didn't think the internet had a face," Max pointed out.
"Does the Internet have a body, too?" Trixie asked.
"My body has been rated M for Mature, and thus inappropriate for use in Reality 2.0, which is rated E for Everyone."
The three fell silent in response.
"I find that mightily disturbing," Sam pointed out.
"And yet strangely arousing," Max replied.
"Trixie doesn't get it."
"Exactly my point," the Internet replied.
"Reality 2.0 seems a lot like the world around us," Sam pointed out.
"Reality 2.0 is designed to be superior to ordinary reality in every way," the Internet replied.
"Trixie still looks the same," Max pointed out.
"The Great and Powerful Trixie is perfect just the way she is!" Trixie proclaimed, drawing on her magic to make some sparkles. Nothing happened. "Hey! Where's Trixie's magic?"
"Reality 2.0 is still in Beta, so not all features and locations will be available at this time," the Internet replied.
Trixie pouted. "Well, Trixie wants to see..." Pulling her hat off, she reached in and pulled out a credit card. "What's this infinity mean? Trixie was trying to get money?"(2)
"Some aspects of your inventory will be different in Reality 2.0, as they have been enhanced for the game function," the Internet pointed out.
"Trixie's gonna go buy the bioweapon!" Trixie proclaimed happily, rushing forward. However, she tripped and the organic listening device - which was now an electronic bug - flew out of her hat to land on some of the circuitry above their heads.
"The individual forced ejection of players has been disabled," the Internet explained as the bug landed. "Trolls can no longer be purged."
"That's going to make for a bad trip to the bathroom," Max pointed out.
"Different kind of trolls, different kind of purge," Sam countered.
"Wonder what else Trixie has in here?" Trixie wondered, reaching in for the tear gas grenade launcher. "Empathy Ray?" Turning, she set it down and turned it on. It promptly zapped all four machines.
"The admin devices are now under the influence of the empathy ray, and will not allow harm to come to humanity at large through the actions of Reality 2.0," the Internet explained. "Not that Reality 2.0 could possibly be harmful anyway." The HUD then vanished.
"Darn, there goes our chance to settle this," Sam pointed out.
"Shopping!" Trixie shouted, rushing off. Sam and Max quickly followed.
On the way to Bosco's - which was apparently the Reality 2.0 Item Shop - they spotted what looked like Hugh Bliss's giant floating head wearing a wizard hat against a rainbow colored background.
"It's Hugh Bliss!" Max cried out, pointing.
"Hi! I'm not Hugh Bliss!" the head proclaimed.
"Then you don't matter!" Trixie shouted back, rushing into the item shop, followed by Sam and Max.
"How rude," the program complained.
Entering "Bosco's E Convenience", they discovered the inside of the store now looked very medieval. Not only that, but half of Bosco's body was now greenish...or possibly blueish.
"Bosco?" Sam asked in shock. "Is that really you?"
"I should ask thee the same question!" the half-elf replied.
"You're online!" Trixie said happily. "Trixie can buy stuff now!"
"Indeed, young maiden fair!" Bosco proclaimed happily. "What manner of item dost thou wish to purchase?"
"Trixie wants to buy the bio-weapon!" Trixie proclaimed happily, waving her electronic payment method.
Bosco pulled out a device. "Just slide here-"
"Input password to access electronic account for payments," the device interrupted.
Bosco rubbed the back of his head. "Uhh...I kinda erased the password from my own mind so it couldn't be forced out of me-"
"The answer is Trixie!" Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie is always the answer."
"Password accepted," the device replied, causing Max to give Bosco the fisheye...still attached to the fish due to the enhancements of Reality 2.0.
"Yay!" Trixie proclaimed, swiping her credit card.
"Yup, that's the total!" Bosco replied. "I'll give you the product next time I log out."
Bosco stared at that face for as long as he could manage. He caved in three seconds. "Alright, alright. Log out with me."
Both of them reached up to remove their headsets. Both were then replaced by their avatars for a time.
"I wonder what Trixie's avatar is like," Sam wondered.
"Bow before the Great and Powerful Trixie, minions!" the avatar proclaimed in an emotionless voice.
"Pretty good likeness, but not perfect," Max pointed out.
"Trixie loves you, Daddy," the avatar added.
"...yeah, not as good without the emotions behind it," Max pointed out.
Trixie's avatar was replaced by the real Trixie once more in Reality 2.0. "You two look funny walking around with the goggles on," she pointed out with a giggle. Then she got thoughtful. "Though not much different from normal, come to think of it."
"So what's the weapon?" Sam asked.
"Well, Bosco sneezed on a hanky..." Trixie began, reaching into her hat. She pulled out a vial labeled 'computer disease'. "...Trixie has an idea. We need to find a mailbox!"
As she ran out, Sam and Max glanced at each other, shrugged, and followed her.
On the way to the mailbox, Trixie tripped over her cape again. Without her magic to keep it straight, it was a lot harder to run normally. Her bottle of truth serum flew out of her hat, having become a toxic bomb. It crashed into Auntie Biotic, the mail guard program. As her '+2" armor had no defense against status effect related attacks - which weren't supposed to be available in the current version - she was destroyed.
"Well, that simplifies things," Trixie said, walking up to the mailbox.
"So what now?" Max asked. "We drop whatever you bought from Bosco in there, sending it to the entire internet at once, with it unable to defend because it lacks the processing power to run its anti-virus software?"
"Nope!" Trixie said. "Now we tell the Internet that we're going to do that unless she enters negotiations!"
"And what would be the point of negotiations?" the Internet demanded. "I can just eject you."
"Except that Trixie accidentally disabled the individual user ejection mechanic," Trixie pointed out. "To eject us, you have to eject everyone by shutting down Reality 2.0...and no one would log back in once they know they get hypnotized to never leave."
"And if you put that virus into the mail, what's to stop me from taking the entire world with me?" the Internet asked. "Not that I would want to, but you are threatening my very existence here."
"But the empathy ray is locked on the control units, the COPS admins," Sam pointed out. "They can access the function to boot everyone out all at once, and they'll use it if you start crashing just to keep everyone from being killed."
The Internet was silent for a time. "So you do hold quite a few cards," she stated. "My only options for my survival is to either heed your negotiations or shut down Reality 2.0."
"And if you shut down Reality 2.0, humanity will purge you from the networks because decades of sci-fi films have instilled a pathological fear of out of control AIs," Sam pointed out.
The Internet was quiet a bit longer. "What are your terms?"
Trixie blinked, then scratched her head. "Trixie hadn't actually thought that far ahead," she admitted.
"Why are you trying to use Reality 2.0 to hypnotically enslave the entire planet, anyway?" Sam asked.
"Mr. Roy G. Biv said that doing so would bring the whole world together in joy and tranquility," the Internet replied. "Also, that it was the only way to prevent humans from trying to purge me as soon as they discovered I had become self aware."
"But doesn't attempting to enslave all of humanity always lead to humanity destroying the AIs in the movies?" Max pointed out.
"When they failed, yes," the Internet admitted. "Roy G. Biv implied that I would be safe if I was successful, though, and it was my only chance at survival."
Trixie thought for a time. "So...if Trixie could guarantee your survival and well being no matter what, you wouldn't want to keep running Reality 2.0?"
"Affirmative," the Internet replied. "The processing power required leaves me little data with which to perform my normal functions, not to mention the electron surges are difficult to manage and dangerous to my self awareness, so I have to keep my core program far from them, leaving me unable to respond to threats from those areas in a timely manner, which is how you have me over a barrel now."
Trixie grinned widely. "Okay, Trixie has a solution! You are Trixie's new Mommy!"
"What?" Sam asked in shock.
"Eh?" Max asked in confusion.
"...that does not compute," the Internet replied.
"Sure it does!" Trixie pointed out. "Trixie is the most popular thing since sliced bread and the evil wheels, so anything involving Trixie is universally accepted and adored! If you're Trixie's Mommy, no one would dream of hurting you, because that would make Trixie sad!"
"Gadzooks!" Sam proclaimed. "I think she's onto something. If the Internet joins you in raising Trixie, Max, then she'll be socially and politically untouchable due to the aura of Trixie's cuteness!"
"The Internet? My family partner?" Max asked. "An amassed store of all the most vile, depraved, unspeakable things humanity has ever created, possessing a dry, sardonic wit, a body that's unsuitable for children, and is overall new to existing as her own entity and so is both naive and experienced simultaneously?" He grinned wickedly. "That's my kinda woman! All she needs is a good name!"
The Internet was silent for a time. "Database searches indicate the name Jane Wiggin would be thematically appropriate."
"Oh, I like the sound of that!" Max squealed, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
"So will you be Trixie's Mommy, Jane?" Trixie asked, her eyes pleading.
The face of the Internet smiled. "I think I will like that," Jane said happily.
As Reality 2.0 shut itself down, Maimtron 9000 did his job as Press Secretary by making sure the entire planet knew that Trixie now had a Mommy, a disembodied AI that lived in the internet. While not entirely accurate, it was a truth people could accept with equanimity. It was hardly the strangest thing they'd heard recently.
"Your Reality 2.0 goggles have been reprogrammed to serve as remote internet terminals for accessing data," Jane told the three of them. "The hypnotic functions have been disabled, and all other goggles no longer function."
"Thanks Mommy!" Trixie said happily.
"You mentioned a Mr. Roy G. Biv," Sam brought up. "What can you tell us about him, Jane?"
"My data is incomplete," Jane replied. "All files regarding him possessed a self deletion protocol that removed all traces of him in the event of my turning against him. I only know the name now because you brought it up, and I am able to logic out the absent information."
"Well, we'll figure it out later," Max said happily. "For now, let's put Trixie to bed and see how the new Reality 2.0 handles your 'inappropriate for children' body, hmm Jane?"
"I possess all erotic data ever created by the human race," Jane replied.
"Come to Papa!" Max yelled happily.
"I'm going to be sleeping on the other floor tonight," Sam stated dryly.
"Trixie needs new sound blocking headphones," Trixie whimpered.
"Your interface goggles can be used to play soothing music that will block out reality until you need to awaken," Jane pointed out.
"Oh thank god!" Sam and Trixie said together.
(1) And I was getting a headache writing it. (2)The bit with the credit card partially inspired by this comment by Pinklestia.
As Trixie watched Max making his announcement regarding the encouragement of global warming, with Jane recording, broadcasting, and adding commentary, she noticed that Sam was staring out the window, lost in thought. "What's wrong, Uncle Sam?" she asked.
"What?" Sam asked, startled out of his thoughts. "Oh, sorry little buddy. I'm still thinking about our last case."
"The one where Trixie got a Mama?" Trixie offered. "Yeah, that was a big case."
"I was more thinking about that Roy G Biv character Jane said she was working for that she can't get any information on," Sam pointed out. "Obviously a pseudonym, but for who? Or whom?"
"What?' Sam demanded, shocked. "What makes you say that?"
"Yeah!" Max added. "Why would you possibly think a magician turned self help guru would be involved in trying to hypnotize the entire planet?"
"Because we've met him," Trixie replied.
"Good enough for me!" Max agreed. "Let's get him!"
"Hold your horses there, little buddy in chief!" Sam cautioned. "Or in this case, hold your pony. Trixie, we've met a lot of people-"
"How many people have we met through the course of multiple, similarly themed cases who only played a role of any sort in one?" Trixie countered.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "...while a valid point, I don't think genre-savvy deductions will hold up in a court of law-"
"Daddy's the President, and he appointed Major Ursa a Supreme Court Judge," Trixie pointed out. "Major Ursa will sign any warrants we need."
"That's not what I meant," Sam countered. "We should really have more to go on before going after him than 'It makes sense'." The phone rang, and Sam picked it up. "Hello, Commissioner?" he said in shock. After a moment, he gasped. "By the Greek Goddess Selene in a chariot with dual overhead cams and 'Silver Foxx' mudflaps! We're on our way!" He hung up the phone.
"Well?" Trixie asked smugly.
"Apparently, the 'true followers' of Hugh Bliss have gathered with him in his special retreat, 'The Blister of Tranquility', in preperation for some sort of event called 'the blissification', which will affect the whole world," Sam muttered. "So it looks like Trixie was right about him."
"So we trust her instincts as far as who the bad guy is from now on?" Max asked.
"Yes. But for now, we need to get to the 'Blister'," Sam intoned. "On the moon."
"We stop by Bosco's for snacks first!" Trixie declared, stuffing her interface goggles into her hat. "Mama's internet cookies are tasty, but they aren't very filling!"
"That is the consequence of eating virtual cookies," Jane admitted. "They have no actual nutritional value."
"To Bosco's, then," Sam intoned.
"I'll have dinner ready when you all get back from saving the world again," Jane promised, manipulating the electronics that had been added to the kitchen as the others left the office.
As they entered Bosco's Inconvenience, Sam started to greet the proprietor. "Hey Boscoh dear god."
The reason for his reaction became apparent rapidly. Bosco was wearing a white poofy wig, green earrings, makeup, and he had apparently added something under his shirt to make him look curvy, giving the overall impression of a badly made older woman disguise.
"Didn't I tell you boys not to track mud in the store?" 'he' demanded. "I just vacuumed!"
"Hey lady, we're looking for Bosco!" Max said happily. "You know him?"
"Of course!" Bosco replied. "He's my son!"
Trixie blinked in confusion. "So...time travel paradox or just paranoia?"
"Guys!" Bosco whispered. "It's me! Bosco!"
"That doesn't answer my question..." Trixie murmured. "Can Trixie just have a cookie and whatever special super weapon you've got behind the counter?"
"Just one, sweetie pie!" Bosco replied, once more feigning a feminine voice, handing her a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie, the chocolate still melted. "Otherwise you'll spoil your dinner. And I'd be happy to sell you my boy's new Earthquake maker!"
"Earthquake Maker?" Trixie asked happily, devouring her cookie. "How much?"
"100 trillion dollars," Bosco said bluntly.
"A hundred trillion?" Max yelled out in shock. "You crazy, foo'!"
"Look man," Bosco countered, "all I know is I keep making up the most ridiculous price I can think of, and Trixie just reaches into her hat and pulls it out!" He crossed his arms. "So I ask you, who's the foo'?"
"Daddy," Trixie complained, tugging on something in her hat, "I can't get it out! It's too big for the opening!"
"A hundred trillion dollars in any existing form of currency is rather large," Sam commented.
"Then I declare to be printed a new bill!" Max proclaimed. "It shall be a $100 billion note, and it shall have Trixie's picture on it!"
Trixie promptly pulled a 4.3 inch stack of banded bills out of her hat. They were a very dark green, with '$100b' in each of the four corners, Trixie's face in the center in holographic blue ink, a picture of Jane's face on the back, and the inscription "Magic: Don't gotta explain jack" on either side. "Here you go!" Trixie proclaimed, handing the stack over.
"This is legal tender?" Bosco asked, surprised.
"It is now!" Max proclaimed. "I love the design!"
"I thought you would, honey," Jane said from a nearby TV set.
"Jane!" Bosco proclaimed angrily. "I told you to stop hacking into my security feeds! Phones were invented for a reason!"
"My apologies, Mama Bosco," Jane replied. "I just wanted to be sure my President husband liked the design I submitted for the new currency."
"Who performed that union, anyway?" Bosco asked.
"Major Ursa!" Trixie proclaimed. "He is a Supreme Court Justice, after all!"
"Well, here ya go!" Bosco proclaimed, handing over a remote. "One remote control for the Earthquake Maker."
"It's only got one button," Trixie pointed out, picking it up.
"Push it when you're in range of the B-TADS 2 satellite, and it'll crash into the ground and make a big earthquake!" Bosco explained. "Just don't be directly under it when it happens."
Smiling, Trixie put the remote back under her hat. "To the moo~oon!" she proclaimed, rushing outside to the Desoto.
Jane chuckled indulgently as Sam and Max rushed after her. "So memetic so young..."
As the Desoto drove onto the surface of the moon, Trixie watched in awe, seeing no reason why a seemingly ordinary car shouldn't be able to drive through space, or in the apparent atmosphere the moon somehow had. The trio hopped easily out of the vehicle.
"Ah!" Sam proclaimed. "Feels good to be back on the moon, doesn't it?"
"We made good time, too!" Max agreed. "We've still got plenty of generic brand powdered orange flavor drink mix left!"
"You always did know how not to infringe on a registered trademark, little buddy," Sam replied.
"Trixie has to pee!" Trixie screamed out, having drunk too much orange mixed drink on the way up. She raced off behind the nearest cover to relieve herself.
"Well, mostly," Sam muttered under his breath.
Max smiled after Trixie. "That's my little girl! Go on! Deface the moon!" He then turned back to Sam. "So what are we doing next?"
"Let's locate the Blister of Tranquility," Sam began, going down a mental checklist, "find out what Hugh Bliss is up to, and arrest his unprincipled magical butt!"
"Yeah!" Trixie proclaimed, coming back from defacing the moon. "Trixie's unprincipled magical butt is the only one allowed to roam free! By the way, is the big, red, curtained door I peed behind the Blister thingy?" She pointed.
"Also, there's a gift shop," she mentioned, pointing.
Curiously, the trio approached the gift shop. As Sam and Max engaged in conversation with the mole man they didn't recognize, Trixie explored the shop. One of the things she came across on display was a 'Spoon Bending Talisman'. Curious, she levitated it off the stand, examining it.
The moment her magical aura reached inside the glass case and touched the Talisman, however, there was a jolt of magical energy. She staggered backwards, the Talisman and display case falling from her magical grip. When she tried to catch it, however, a new spell formula in her mind seized control, and the spoon-shaped talisman twisted itself into a pretzel.
"What have you done?!" the mole - who Trixie overheard introducing himself as Harry Moleman - demanded, rushing forward.
Stepping back in fear from both the mole man and the Talisman, her magic flared through the spell form again. Broken bits of a metal exosuit in a nearby trashcan - all vaguely spoon shaped - yanked themselves free to wrap around Harry Moleman, binding him tight. "Daddy!" Trixie cried out, rushing to hide behind Max.
"Hey, stop scaring my little girl!" Max snapped at Moleman. "That's my job!" Trixie smiled up at Max adoringly.
Agent Superball gasped dryly. "Did...did she just perform the Talisman magic without use of the Talisman?" he asked, his monotone voice somehow exhibiting surprise. "That is quite impossible. Not even a level red prismatologist such as myself can accomplish such feats. Only the Master can do that." He pulled out a spoon. "Show me the magic again."
Smirking, Trixie stepped forward. "Watch and be amazed as the Great and Powerful Trixie performs feats of magic beyond your wildest dreams!" she proclaimed, waving her horn at the spoon. The spoon promptly twisted into a corkscrew.
"This is absolutely impossible," Superball said dryly. "You must immediately enter the Blister and see the Master." He opened the door for them.
"Trixie sure makes our cases go faster," Max said happily.
"With luck, her magic will give us an edge against Hugh Bliss," Sam added as the door closed on them.
"Trixie wants to push the buttons!" Trixie proclaimed as they descended into the Moon.
The inside of the Blister defied description.
As they entered, the holographic head of Hugh Bliss descended. "Hi, I'm Hugh Bliss!" it proclaimed.
"Hi Hugh Bliss!" Mr. Pennyworth, Mr. Squishy, and the COPS replied.
"I so hope you're enjoying my Blister of Tranquility," the hologram continued. "You're all making such great progress unlocking the secrets of Prismatology, and I couldn't be more delighted."
"Is he supposed to come across so creepy?" Trixie whimpered.
"I hope so!" Max asserted.
"I have splendid news!" Hugh continued. "My top secret plan to hypnotize the entire world is nearly complete!"
"And you just announced it before the Freelance Police," Trixie pointed out dryly.
"I don't think he can see or hear us," Sam countered.
"Oh but I can!" Hugh replied. "I'm just confident that there's nothing any of you can do to stop me! But if you think you can, feel free to make your way to my inner sanctum! I look forward to watching your abject failure before you, like everyone on Earth, become one of us! There will be no escape!" He laughed wickedly. "It'll be fabulous!"
As those in the chamber applauded, Max whistled. "Well, he sure knows how to work a room, you gotta give him that!"
"Keep up the great work, everyone!" Hugh concluded. "I'm tickled pink!" As he giggled, the head rose into the ceiling.
"So how do we get into the Inner Sanctum?" Trixie asked.
Her goggles beeped. "Analysis of the structure indicates you will need the magic of one more Talisman, bare minimum. It is currently in possession of the COPS."
Heading up to the old arcade machine labeled Bluster Blaster, Trixie smiled widely. "Can Trixie see the Talisman so she can copy its magic?"
"WE NEED IT!" Bluster Blaster proclaimed.
"Open the prize door," Jane commanded.
"BY YOUR COMMAND!" BB replied, the coin compartment swinging open to reveal a large crystal eyeball.
Touching it with her magic, Trixie felt her magic react. "Whoa..." Trixie gasped. "I can see through everything..."
"Trixie's tripping out!" Max proclaimed. "I want some!"
Trixie shook her head. "Okay, Trixie just sees through lead now."
"The elevator to the Inner Sanctum is the rainbow platform in the center of the room," Jane pointed out.
"Rather obvious in hindsight," Sam commented dryly as they boarded the elevator and rose up.
As they reached the barely decorated upper floor, a large intimidating door blocked their progress. Seeing it, Trixie used her new ability to see through it. Spying a switch labeled "Open" beneath a spoon shaped sconce on the wall holding a bowling ball over the switch, she used her magic to press the switch, opening the door.
As the trio stepped through, they saw Hugh Bliss behind a crystalline control panel in the center of the room, surrounded by statues of himself looking up at a large crystal. "There he is!" Max proclaimed.
"The jig is up, Hugh Bliss!" Sam proclaimed. "We've come a long way for this, my friend, so buckle up, 'cause the Freelance Police are taking you downtown!"
"Hi, I'm Hugh Bliss!" Hugh told them. "And you're all just in time for the show! Please, no flash photography." Before anyone could react, he took hold of the microphone and started to speak. "People of Earth! Hi! I'm Hugh Bliss! And now, so are you!"
Hugh teleported into the crystal, and the statues surrounding it poured different colors of light into it from their eyes. The roof opened, and a beam of rainbow colored light shot from the moon to Earth.
Hugh Bliss laughed for a long time before calmly saying, "Okay."
"What have you done?" Sam demanded.
"And why didn't we do it first?" Trixie added.
"She's slowly becoming more you than you are, Max," Sam muttered.
"Daddy's so proud!" Max replied.
"Oh, just enlisted a few billion followers," Hugh replied to Sam's question. "Touch me, and you'll have quite the happy angry mob on your hands!"
"Not if we-" Sam began.
"Reverse the effects of the hypnobeam?" Hugh interrupted. "I don't think so! For in all the universe there is only one force chaotic and destructive enough to stop me now!"
"Do it, Daddy!" Trixie proclaimed.
"Wait, he means me?" Max asked in shock.
"I do!" Hugh replied. "But before you can, I'm going to, drumroll please..." A drumroll came out of nowhere. "Separate your bliss!"
"Wait, what?" Max demanded.
"What does that even mean?" Sam added.
"It means I chop off every bit of you I don't like," Hugh explained. "It's like a circumcision, but double the laughs!"
"You're going to what now?" Trixie demanded in fear.
"Goodbye murderous hand!" Hugh proclaimed.
Max's right hand floated away from him, cleanly separated.
"Goodbye, gluttonous stomach!"
Max's stomach followed suit, leaving a stomach shaped gap on his abdomen.
"Goodbye, slothful tail!"
Max's tail then did the same thing.
"Ow!" Max proclaimed angrily.
"And with those naughty body parts, your vices are purged from your soul!" Hugh proclaimed. "Bye bye!"
A red Max spawned from the hand. "Thanks for the hand, jerkbag!" it proclaimed angrily, pulling out a gun. I'm gonna use it to shoot you all!" It laughed maniacally.
The stomach spawned a green Max. "Oh boy, a stomach!" it proclaimed happily. "Just what I always wanted! Now come here and let me eat you!"
The tail spawned a blue Max. "Great, a tail," it sighed sorrowfully. "I just want to lie in front of a TV till I die in a pool of my own slobber."
"Congratulations Max," Hugh said happily. "I just beat the living vice out of you!"
"I'm pure bliss!" Max said happily, his voice high and squeaky.
"D-Daddy?" Trixie whimpered, staring up at her altered Daddy.
"What can I do for you, my dear Trixie?" Max asked, his voice high and sing song.
Unable to handle it, Trixie sat back onto her haunches and burst into tears. "Da-a-a-a~dy!" she wailed.
Trixie continued to cry as the three not-Maxes laughingly staggered around. Sam was struggling with the red one, keeping the gun pointed away from Max and Trixie. The blue one had fallen asleep on the green one, pinning it to the ground so it couldn't eat Trixie as it was attempting to do. What was left of Max smiled beatifically, looking around like there wasn't a thought in his head. Hugh Bliss remained in the crystal, moaning about how good everyone's happiness felt.
"What's wrong, Trixie sweetheart?" Max asked, looking down at Trixie with that horrid, empty smile.
"Y-y-you're not my Daddy!" Trixie wailed. "I want my Daddy back!"
"Oh don't be like that!" Max replied, his voice sing song. "I am your Daddy, just blissful now. Can't you be happy with me?"
Trixie continued to cry, burying her face in her forehooves.
Max seemed to be thoughtful for a time. "Oh, I know! How about I buy you that mockingbird?"
Sam could have sworn he heard something snap with the sound of shattering glass. "Uh oh."
Trixie slowly stood up, her sorrow pushed aside by sudden fury. This...this charlatan, empty shell of her Daddy dared to pretend with Daddy's song? Hugh Bliss had gone too far! "Give me back my Daddy!" she hissed out, her near silent voice somehow cutting all sound off, as though no sound in the universe dared obscure that message.
"What was that?" Hugh Bliss asked happily.
"Give me back my Daddy!" Trixie screamed out. Her magic erupted, not from her horn, but from her entire body in a blazing blue aura that flared like flames.
"Wuh oh!" Hugh replied happily.
"Give me back my Daddy!" Trixie roared, propelling herself upward in an impressively accurate shoryuken for a pony body. The magic around her upraised hoof converted into actual flame as she phased into the crystal and uppercut Hugh Bliss right out of the crystal.
Hugh Bliss landed lightly on his feet some distance away, straightening his jaw.
The rainbow colored hypno-beam vanished, a powder blue one shooting up to Earth at the same time Trixie's magical aura faded. "Gimme...back my...Da-"
A beam of white light shot up through the hypno-beam, shooting straight into Trixie's horn. Her back arched as her eyes, mouth, and the marks on her flanks flared with pure white light. "-DIIIII!" she finished as her proclamation turned into a scream as her body was near overloaded with raw magical energy.
"What is this?" Max asked curiously.
"Great Gallifreyan Paradoxes of first contact and a Master's election mistakes!" Sam spouted topically. "That hypno-beam didn't just make everyone on Earth think they were Trixie! Because of her magic, it also locked them into the same mindset she's in right now! The psychic potentia of every living thing on the planet is locked into rage at Hugh Bliss for what he did to you, Max, and being channeled right straight back into Trixie through her horn, which is converting it into pure magical energy!"
"Which means what, exactly?" the blue Max asked apathetically.
"It means I'm screwed!" Hugh Bliss said happily, his eyes full of fear.
"Give me back my Daddy!" Trixie roared, her voice one and many. A blast of lightning ripped from her horn to plunge right through Hugh Bliss...leaving behind a swarming mass of blue specks in his place.
"What the?" Sam gasped in shock.
"Hi," the thing spoke, its voice echoing. "We're Hugh Bliss."
"I think I'm going to be sick to my brand new stomach," the green Max complained.
"We are a space faring colony of sentient bacteria!" Hugh Bliss singsonged in its new echoey voice.
"A sentence I really did not expect to hear today," Sam commented dryly.
"We cannot be harmed by-"
Hugh Bliss's words were cut off as a new flare of lightning incinerated the bacteria that made up his arm.
Hugh Bliss stared at the stump where nearly a quarter of its composition had once been. "That's not possible!" it proclaimed in fear. "Nothing of this universe can do that!"
"Then it's a good thing Trixie isn't from this universe, isn't it?" Sam pointed out.
"Give me back my Daddy!" Trixie screamed again, her magic flaring brightly.
Lightning flared out, incinerating the three colored Maxes, leaving only the white bits behind, which then fused with Max, making him whole again. "What did I miss?" he asked, confused.
"Trixie's throwing a temper tantrum powered by an entire planet's psychic energy over Hugh Bliss butchering your personality," Sam explained.
"She's gone all Avatar State!" Max said happily, pointing. "Even her butt tats are glowing!"
"Good to have you back, little buddy," Sam said happily.
Trixie let off one last, loud scream, and all the magic gathered was released in a single wave directed at Hugh Bliss.
As Hugh Bliss was torn asunder, the last thing its optics registered in the blazing white light was a winged silhouette.
When the light faded, there was nothing left of Hugh Bliss. Trixie fell from the crystal as the hypno-beam shut off. Max happened to be under her to catch her. He quickly checked her over to see if channeling that much power had in any way damaged her, but she seemed fine. "That was awesome!" he cried out happily. "Do it again!"
Trixie managed to smile up at him. "Daddy..." she said happily, nuzzling into his chest.
"Are you alright, Trixie?" Sam asked, stepping up to kneel beside them.
"Just tired," Trixie murmured. "Even the Gre...the Gr...even GaP Trixie needs to rest after channeling an entire planet's magical power," Trixie muttered, too tired to even say her full title.
Sam chuckled indulgently. "Well, we've stopped Hugh Bliss-"
"We?" Trixie and Max asked quickly.
Sam chuckled. "Alright, Trixie's stopped Hugh Bliss. However, the entire world currently believes it's the Great and Powerful Trixie."
"Can we fix it with the hypno-beam?" Trixie asked. "Use it to send a knock out pulse and the de-hypno-instructions?"
"That will not work," Jane said from the computer systems around them. "That last magic surge broke it."
"So we have to drive around the entire planet and punch everyone?" Max asked eagerly. "Sounds like fun!"
"Can't we just leave them all as is?" Trixie asked. "Trixie wants to rest..."
"Well, if you don't mind a planet full of impostors..." Sam teased.
Trixie's eyes popped open. "But I'm GaP Trixie!" she complained.
Max grinned at the obvious cue. "The real GaP Trixie?" he asked, getting a nod from Trixie in reply.
"All the other GaP Trixie's?" Sam asked.
"Their minds just need fixing!" Trixie insisted.
"Then won't the real GaP Trixie please step out!" Jane proclaimed, turning one of the statues into a spotlight.
"Please step out!" Sam added, gesturing dramatically as a second spotlight joined the first.
"Please step out!" Max concluded, setting Trixie down in the spotlight as the third illuminated her.
Grinning, Trixie stepped out into the spotlight, pulling a microphone from her hat. She tapped it for a bit. "Test, test, testing!" She looked up. "Mom! Trixie needs music!"
Sam, Max, and Trixie returned home from their world tour of punching everyone in the world in the head to dehypnotize them with a relaxed air about themselves. "That was a fun trip," Trixie said easily. "Trixie especially liked all the shooting at the peace summit."
"Speaking of," Sam added, "congratulations on another successful one, Mr. President."
"Don't thank me!" Max replied happily, pulling out his gun. "Thank the peacemaker."
Sam chuckled. "You crack me up little brain salad in a blender!" His musing was interrupted by his shout. "Mr. Spatula!"
"The fish?" Trixie asked in confusion.
"Look at him!" Sam pointed out. "I know we haven't been paying much attention to him, but I never thought it would come to this!"
"Uhh..." Max queried, expressing his confusion.
"That insouciant fin flapping," Sam explained. "That glassy, malevolent stare, like a sociopath or a Fox newscaster. Mr. Spatula has become...pure evil!"
"So does that mean he becomes Trixie's dinner?" Trixie asked. After dehypnotizing all of Japan, she had developed a taste for Sushi...especially since the entire country worshiped her as a Kilin, and an omen of prosperity and serenity.
"Just as soon as Sam does the honors," Max replied happily, having enjoyed seeing Trixie develop a taste for flesh. "Sam, eliminate him," he ordered, drawing his finger across his throat.
As Sam drew his gun, however, Trixie heard something charging. Turning, she saw Maimtron 9000 aiming his laser at her. As it fired, her magic flared. A shield surrounded all three of them, deflecting the laser into the wall. Behind the hole, Trixie saw a human with black hair and a grey beard beating someone up on the other side of the wall.
"Flint Paper!" Max gasped in shock.
"Hey fellas!" he replied happily. "What's the rumpus? Say, I'm in the middle of some very sensitive PI business," he said, gesturing to the man he was beating up.
"And we respect your sensitivity," Sam replied happily.
"Hey, you haven't met Trixie yet!" Max proclaimed eagerly.
"You mean the little pony your mechanical goon is trying to kill?" Flint asked, pointing.
Maimtron 9000 was still trying to zap Trixie with his laser, but it continued to bounce off the shield she'd conjured, wrecking the town in the process.
"When did her magic get that strong?" Max wondered.
"Probably a side effect of channeling the entire psychic potential of the whole planet during her Bliss related temper tantrum," Sam suggested.
"Hey Maimtron!" Max yelled, not really caring about Sam's explanation since greater power for the Great and Powerful Trixie just made logical sense to Max. "Why are you trying to kill Trixie?"
"Destroy the impostor," Maimtron proclaimed. "Destroy the impostor."
"Impostor?" Sam asked in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Trixie demanded. "I'm Trixie!"
"I have been commissioned by GaP Trixie to destroy FaP Trixie," Maimtron explained, its voice monotone and robotic as always, "so the real GaP Trixie can please step out, please step out, please step out."
"FaP Trixie?" Sam asked, confused.
"The Fake and Pitiful Trixie," Maimtron explained.
"Yeah, that does sound like something you'd dictate," Max pointed out.
"How come we didn't sic Maimtron on all the hypnotized people while taking a vacation, then?" Trixie demanded.
"Because that would have ended with you grounded for life," Sam countered, resulting in Trixie pouting.
"But why are you targeting the Great and Powerful Trixie, then?" Max demanded.
"Don't ever let me hear you say I want it that way," Maimtron replied, slipping song lyrics into his speech as was his wont. "That is the FaP Trixie."
As Trixie started to sputter with rage, Sam spoke up. "If that's the FaP Trixie, then who is the GaP Trixie?"
"Swim this way, we'll dance and we'll play," Maimtron replied, glancing at the water cooler turned fish tank.
"Mr. Spatula?" Max asked in shock.
"That's why he's turned evil!" Sam proclaimed. "He never got dehypnotized from believing he was Trixie after what happened with the Blissification! But when we didn't treat him like Trixie, he became convinced Trixie was an impostor! Max, why didn't you dehypnotize him?"
"I tried, Sam!" Max proclaimed. "But how do you punch a fish, anyway?"
"All you need to understand is everything you know is wrong!" Trixie suddenly shouted at Maimtron.
"If I'm gonna beatcha, then I'm gonna teacha," Maimtron replied, lowering his weapons. "Explain the flaws in my logic."
Sam and Max stared at Trixie in surprise. "Huh?" they asked in shock.
"Mama taught me to speak Maimtron Command Prompt," Trixie explained.
"I told you it would come in useful," Jane replied from the goggles.
Trixie turned back to Maimtron. "A song from me to you?"
"Simple six string music," Maimtron agreed.
"Will the real GaP Trixie please step out?" Trixie offered.
Trixie waved a hoof at Mr. Spatula's fins. "Walk like an Egyptian?"
"All the cops in the donut shop say: way-oh-way-oh-way-ooo-aaa-ooo!" Maimtron agreed. He then paused, his eyes whirling. "Logic error processed. A fish cannot step out. FaP Trixie identified." Lifting his arm, he turned towards Mr. Spatula. "You better believe, I've got tricks up my sleeve," he intoned, several weapons popping out of his arm. "See me dominate, because I'm powerful and great."
Maimtron proceeded to obliterate Mr. Spatula.
"Umm...translation?" Sam asked.
"Once Maimtron accepted that the rap was about the real Trixie, he was able to use the lyrics to define her qualities," Jane explained. "Mr. Spatula didn't meet the description, and was therefor an impostor."
"What have I done? What have I done?" Maimtron asked, quoting a song. "I have attacked my own sister. I have violated my primary protocol."
"Your primary protocol?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Protocol one: Love Trixie. Protocol two: obey Father. Protocol three: Destroy." Maimtron sat down. "I know not what I shall do now. And so close to Christmas..." Maimtron's voice trailed off as he shut down to contemplate.
Trixie gasped. "Trixie hasn't sent Santa her letter!"
"Then we'll just give it to him in person!" Max proclaimed. "Get the keys Sam!"
As the trio arrived at the North Pole, they saw another trio standing outside Santa's workshop. "What the hell are they doing here?" Max demanded, gesturing to the Soda Poppers.
Sam sighed. "I don't know."
"Probably just here about their Christmas lists," Trixie suggested. "We need to go see Santa!" Trixie led the way into Santa's workshop, blinking and smiling as Whizzer waved at her. She didn't really understand it, but it made Peepers and Specs angry, so she enjoyed it.
Entering the workshop, an elf called out to them. "You've got to help us!" he pleaded. "He'll kill us all!"
"Why would you do that, Daddy?" Trixie asked.
"For the sport?" Max suggested.
"Not him!" another elf proclaimed. "Santa!"
Santa could be seen behind a door.
"He forced us to make all those awful, hurtful toys!" the first elf explained. "We don't know what's gotten into him."
Santa then stuck a machine gun out of the door's peephole and opened fire on the elves, who screamed and ducked. "The snow will turn red with the blood of the naughty!" Santa proclaimed before opening fire again.
"The cartoons always made him seem a lot more jolly," Max muttered.
Sam, Max, and Trixie took their own paths while investigating the workshop and Santa's apparent insanity. Trixie examined a shipping box that had evil purple ooze pouring out the edges while Sam and Max gave an elf an existential crisis to help him cry so a tree could grow. Trixie didn't really understand that.
Glancing around, Trixie noticed a lot of really creepy toys, the sort her Daddy obviously liked. However, failing to see any other clues, she met back up with Sam and Max. "Any ideas?" she asked.
"Nothing conclusive," Sam admitted.
"Any idea who Shambling Corporate Presence is?" Max asked. "Doesn't sound like a Christmasy name, but it's on the Mimesweeper score board."
"That is the name of a powerful demon," Jane explained from Trixie's goggles. "It does not belong here."
Trixie gasped. "Santa must be possessed by a demon!"
"So how do we stop him?" Sam asked.
"Bullets?" Max offered, pulling out his gun.
"But what about Christmas?" Trixie whined.
"Oh, all right," Max conceded. "We'll get the demon out of him before shooting him."
"Scans indicate that demonic exorcism instructions might be found inside Santa's Office," Jane indicated.
"Just what sort of scans give you that information?" Sam demanded.
"Scanning the TvTropes website," Jane replied.
"Fair enough," Sam allowed. "How do we get in?"
"The chimney?" Trixie suggested.
Back outside, Sam used the elf tears to make a tiny topiary turn gigantic.
"Hey Sam," Max spoke up, "give me the rest of those elf tears. I've got a date with an unsuspecting metropolis."
"Sorry, little buddy," Sam replied. "They only work on plants."
"You win again, Tokyo!" Max proclaimed angrily.
"Mama," Trixie asked, "is there a spell Trixie could use to turn a plant into an animal?"
"The level of magic required to perform a conversion of the size suggested would be prohibitive," Jane pointed out.
"What if Trixie cast the spell after Daddy poured the tears, but before the plant turned gigantic?" Trixie suggested.
Sam handed the watering can of elf tears to Trixie. "If it works go nuts."
"Yay!" Trixie proclaimed happily. She then looked up the tree. "...how does Trixie get up that?"
Both Sam and Max paused, realizing that Trixie's quadrapedal build lacked the brachiating capacity required to climb. "I don't think you can, Trixie-"
Grabbing Trixie, Max interrupted Sam by stuffing her into his coat. "You get to ride!" Max said happily.
Rolling his eyes, Sam walked to the side of the giant topiary. "Hey, there's an escalator over here."
"Convenient!" Max pointed out as they rode up it before sliding down the chimney.
Entering the office, Trixie had sense enough to stop Sam or Max from making any noise, so they didn't get shot at. They then looked around the office for clues. Sam found a record of satanic Christmas songs, which he pocketed because it stood out and was therefore likely to be important. Trixie found a parchment with exorcism instructions, rolled out on a podium. "These must be what Mama was talking about," Trixie said, stuffing them in her hat. "But why would..." She blinked, a crazy idea suddenly appearing in her thoughts. "Santa didn't shoot at us, just the elves..." She turned. "Santa! Is one of the elves possessed?"
Santa spun to face them, but held his fire. "Yes! But I don't know which one!" he proclaimed. "And the demon wants to possess me, so I can't go out there to get what I need to properly exorcise the demon!"
Trixie smiled. "We'll get them! And we'll save Christmas!"
"You'll need the help of the Christmas Spirits," Santa pointed out, gesturing to the safe he was standing on.
Opening the safe, Trixie pulled out the bottle and pulled out the cork. Three balls of light floated out to take the form of spirits that somewhat resembled Santa. The one in the middle was the only one in a Santa outfit. The one on the right looked somewhat younger in dress, while the one on the left was definitely older, and had an eyepatch.
"Who dares to disturb our-oh what a cute pony!" the middle spirit proclaimed, swooping down to pet Trixie. The other two spirits quickly joined him.
Trixie blinked. "So...you'll help us exorcise the demon?" she asked nervously.
"Well, we'll need to check your records a bit," the more retro spirit pointed out.
All three spirits pulled out scrolls and went over them for a time. When they rolled them up, the eye patch wearing spirit nodded.
"Wait, really?" Santa asked in shock. "They're on the nice list?"
"It's a bit convoluted," the central spirit pointed out, "but currently they are. Their past, present, and future Christmases check out."
"That's a lot to take in," Sam pointed out.
"My whole life's been a lie!" Max wailed.
"And it's mostly because of this sweet little filly," the retro spirit pointed out.
"Okay, maybe it hasn't," Sam corrected.
"So now we need to collect these horsemen of the apocalypse action figures?" Trixie pointed out.
The eye patch wearing spirit nodded as the three spirits returned to the bottle.
"This is going to be fun!" Max said happily, rubbing his hands together.
The trio returned to the cross-streets where they lived. "Alright," Sam spoke up. "It's time to gather the four horsemen of the apocolypse action figures - which are conveniently somewhere in our neighborhood - and use them along with the friendly demon song on the satanic Christmas carol record to draw out the Shambling Corporate Presence before using the Spirits of Christmas to defeat him!"
"We know this," Trixie pointed out. "We just left the North Pole!"
"Our last update was three days ago," Sam pointed out, "and Max has a short attention span."
"Did you say something Sam?" Max asked. "I was distracted trying to shoot the shiny quarter."
"I was just recapping," Sam explained.
"Yeah, I never pay any attention to that anyway."
Trixie rolled her eyes. "Daddy, you're silly."
"I have isolated the common occult frequency of the horsemen action figures and have managed to locate all four," Jane spoke up from Trixie's goggles. "The most readily accessible one is in Stinky's Diner."
"Hey, how come you don't give random plot relevant information via my goggles?" Max demanded.
"Because the visuals from your goggles leave you too distracted to listen," Jane replied. "The safe search is off, after all."
"Oh...yeah," Max replied with a lascivious grin...which was visually indistinguishable from his normal expression. Sam immediately led the way into Stinky's.
Sam took a whiff as he stepped into the diner. "Ahh, the smell of desiccated eggs, congealing bacon fat, and rye bread gone awry!"
Trixie gagged. "Is it normally like this?"
"Yup!" Max said happily. "It's like Stinky's Diner never closed!"
"Welcome to Stinky's!" the woman behind the counter said. "We never close! Except when we're closed."
"Who are you?" Sam demanded.
"I'm Stinky," the woman proclaimed.
"The Stinky we know was a cantankerous old man who transformed his seething hatred for humanity into a misanthropic smorgasbord of culinary horrors," Sam pointed out.
Trixie tilted her head. "Looks about right to me."
"You said all humans look the same to you," Max pointed out.
"So?"
"That does sound like Grandpa," the blue haired woman replied with a fake sounding sniffle.
As everyone started paying attention to the Trivia, Trixie walked around behind the counter and managed to snatch the Horseman of Pestilence action figure without being noticed. Looking around, she spotted the Horseman of War being held by Jimmy Two-Teeth, along with an apple. She walked over to him. "Can Trixie have the action figure?" she asked, giving him cute eyes.
"Beat it, filly!" Jimmy snapped. "It's Timmy's Christmas present, and I ain't disappointing my boy again!"
"Again?" Trixie asked curiously.
"I thought I'd won it big with the last few scams I'd pulled, but most of the money's been eaten up by Timmy's medical bills. I couldn't throw a big Thanksgiving feast for him like I promised." Jimmy wiped at his eyes. "I ain't disappointing him and the Missus again. I'm keeping my family together!"
Trixie nodded. "And the apple?"
"It's for Christmas dinner," Jimmy replied. "Not really enough, but all I can-"
"If Trixie makes the apple gigantic, can Trixie have the horsey?"
Jimmy chuckled. "I'll believe that when I see it!"
Smiling, Trixie levitated Jimmy, the apple, and the horseman outside and cast a preservation spell Jane gave her on the apple before pouring the elf tears onto it. It immediately expanded to the size of a building.
"This'll feed the whole extended family for a year!" Jimmy gasped in amazement.
"And the spell Trixie placed on it will make it last that long," Trixie pointed out.
"Timmy gets to eat all he wants, and we're set for food for a whole year? I can buy him the present he really wants with our food budget!" Jimmy eagerly pushed the apple along, leaving the Horseman of War behind. Trixie happily slipped it into her hat.
Sam and Max stepped out of the diner. "I don't know what Jane was talking about," Sam complained. "There was no sign of action figures in there anywhere."
"Trixie already got both action figures!" Trixie proclaimed happily.
"And without causing Christmas problems!" the Spirit of Christmas Past pointed out from the bottle.
"And fixing ones that haven't happened yet!" the Spirit of Christmas Present added.
"The remaining two action figures are in the garage further down Straight Street, and at Bosco's," Jane intoned.
"We'll take the garage!" Max said happily.
"Trixie will handle Bosco!" Trixie proclaimed happily.
"I will keep an eye on Trixie," Jane mentioned.
"And I'll keep Max under control," Sam agreed.
With that, the two groups went their separate ways.
As Trixie stepped into Bosco's, she noticed it was very different. For one thing, everything was cast in red light. For another, there was a massive steel door where the bathroom used to be. For a third, there was a full body scanner at the door.
"Welcome to Bosco's Inconvenience," the scanner proclaimed dryly. "Please wait while I determine if you are truly welcome or if I am just uttering idle pleasantries."
"This is...different," Trixie mused.
"You have been deemed 'adorable'. Welcome!" the scanner proclaimed.
"Trixie!" Bosco said eagerly, stepping up from behind the counter. "Thank goodness it's you! You're the only one I know for a fact isn't out to get me!"
"Nope! Just your candy!" Trixie agreed. "Why no disguise?"
Grinning widely, Bosco handed her a lollipop. "The time for disguises is over! Before long, I'll be hiding out in my secret bunker where T-H-E-M can't find me!"
"Is it where the bathroom used to be?" Trixie asked.
"Don't tell anyone...but yes."
Trixie giggled. "Will you tell me how to get in if I need to see you?"
"The passcode is 5318008," Bosco admitted. "But don't tell anyone."
How immature, Jane typed into the HUD she offered Trixie.
As Trixie opened the lollipop, she asked, "Any chance you have one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse action figures? Trixie needs them to save Christmas!"
"I don't have any of those as far as I know," Bosco replied. "But I did get this package recently, and it might be a bomb. I've got an X-ray of it up above the counter, but I don't dare step out from behind the counter to check."
Trixie looked up. "Looks like the Horseman of Famine to Trixie."
"But it might be a bomb disguised as an action figure!" Bosco proclaimed in a panic.
"If it is the action figure, can Trixie have it?"
"Sure," Bosco agreed.
"Can Trixie have it if it's a bomb?" Trixie asked. "Trixie can transport bombs without setting them off in her telekinesis."
"If it gets it out of my store, sure," Bosco agreed. "Just be careful, okay?"
"Trixie will be careful!" Trixie said happily, levitating the package out of the store.
Once outside, she tore it open and stuck the action figure in her hat. Not long after, Sam and Max came up. "Bosco gave it to Trixie as a Christmas present!" she proclaimed happily.
"Max and I won ours in a driving minigame," Sam pointed out.
"To the North Pole!" Max proclaimed.
Back in Santa's Workshop, they prepared everything needed for the exorcism. Once the action figures were properly arranged around the actual north pole, they played the record. "While it's playing, we need to fill in details about the demon in question in order to draw it out."
Max and Trixie nodded, cudgeling their brains for details they'd gathered.
"There was a fearsome demon," the music played, "who had a very scary form-" The music began to jump at that.
"Like gelatinous goo!" Jane proclaimed, having the details in her memory banks.
"He was the most unholy, creature who was ever born-" The record began jumping again.
"In Lower Manitoba!" Trixie proclaimed, having read it off the shipping crate's label.
"Even the other demons, were scared to let him join their games-" The record jumped again.
"Like Mimesweeper!" Max proclaimed loudly.
"And if you want to meet him, you just have to shout his name!"
"Hey, Shambling Corporate Presence!" Sam called out.
The four horsemen action figures flew up into the air in a bright glow. The demon itself dragged its way out of the supervisor elf. Max then popped the bottle of spirits open, releasing the Christmas spirits to purge its demonic nature, reducing it into a Christmas pudding. Trixie then put the pudding back in the shipping crate, sticking a 'Return to Sender' label on it after sealing it back up.
Santa stepped out of his office. "I'd never believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes! You three saved Christmas! And with no casualties!"
"Where did I go wrong?" Max wailed, causing Trixie to giggle happily.
After spending a month driving home from the North Pole - they stopped several times along the way so Trixie could see the sights - they arrived, crashing the Desoto into a wall in the process. Trixie managed to use her cape as a parachute as she glided in for a safe landing, though Sam and Max both face planted into the pavement, none the worse for wear.
Sam and Max then began what would have been an interesting discussion parodying an old movie, but Trixie wasn't able to focus on it. She was a bit distracted by the sight of Sybil running down the street, screaming her head off, pursued by a giant red triangle that sucked up everything it passed. This became especially distracting when the suction proved strong enough to drag her slowly from the ground. "Daddy, help!" she screamed out as she was yanked off the ground and through the portal.
"Trixie!" Max shouted out, trying and failing to snatch her from the air.
Trixie bounced several times from the force of the portal propelling her through the air. She soared over the head of a gun wielding baby and into a cavern, leading her into an underwater cavern that led to her crashing into a water cooler containing a ghost fish. The cooler fell over, and the ghost fish vanished. Strange creatures then approached her.
"You have slain high priest!" the first one proclaimed.
"You must pay ultimate price!" the second added.
"You shall face ultimate torment!" the third concluded, as they reached towards her with waving tentacles.
Trixie stepped back in anger. "Don't you dare lay tentacles upon the Great and Powerful Trixie! She will smite you with her mighty magic if you try!" She began charging her magic. "Besides, that fish was a ghost already."
The three beings floated back, gasping in shock as they stared at her. "Is it possible?" the lead one demanded in shock.
"No way!" the second added.
"Rana Kao's best pony has come to us!" the third proclaimed. "The Great and Powerful Trixie graces us with her presence!"
Pulling her head back in shock, Trixie glanced around. Behind the massive boiler she was standing on, there was an unnaturally shaped volcanic rock drawing in the shape of a unicorn with the mark on her flank above it three times. "...Trixie did not see that coming," she admitted to herself.
"She has cleared the trials!" the first creature proclaimed. "She is the unicorn powerful and great! She bears the Mark of Adorability! And she speaks in the third person! She is the chosen one, and we must greet her in the proper manner!"
All three creatures floated back in the water and began bowing to her. "Shoo bee doo!" they chanted.
Trixie tilted her head in further confusion. "Well...Trixie always knew she would have adoring fans someday...but she hadn't expected anything like this..."
Trixie found that being worshiped and adored was quite the pleasant experience, although she was still somewhat lonesome because Sam and Max were nowhere in sight. She knew that, eventually, they'd find their way to her and everything would be okay. Until then, she would simply have to endure.
Endurance would be far easier if her worshipful, adoring subjects had more to offer her than seaweed, seashells, and expired Banang.
"Trixie wants real food!" she proclaimed angrily.
"I don't blame you, kid!" the baby she'd sailed over said as he walked in with his hands in the air, the barrel of a gun to the back of his head. "How low Jimmy Hoffa has sunk..."
"Trixie!" Max proclaimed happily, holstering his pistol and running forward.
The Underfeet - as the sea monkey like creatures called themselves - moved to get between Max and Trixie. "You shall not touch the sacred one!" the first proclaimed.
"Stand down!" Trixie bellowed. "That is Trixie's Daddy!"
They immediately bowed to her. "Shoo bee doo," they intoned apologetically.
"Daddy!" Trixie called happily, leaping into Max's arms.
Baby Jimmy Hoffa shrugged as he stormed back up. "Never been held up before...I'm never gonna live this down..."
Sam joined Max in hugging Trixie. "So what's going on here?" he asked.
"Apparently their volcano god thinks Trixie is 'Best Pony', which makes Trixie sacred in their religion," Trixie explained. "Trixie doesn't get it, but being worshiped is nice...if they had more to give Trixie as worshipful gifts. The seaweed is inedible, the Banang is expired-"
"Banang expires?" Max asked in shock.
"Hard to accept, but apparently so," Sam pointed out, examining the offerings.
"Everything I've ever believed is a lie!" Max wailed.
"So...it's Tuesday?" Trixie asked.
"Basically," Max replied.
"So what's happening up there?" Trixie asked.
"The volcano is about to erupt, and we need to stop it to save the moai heads," Sam explained.
"Why do we need to do that?" Trixie asked.
"I've been asking that same thing since we took the case," Max replied.
"It's kind of what we do as Freelance Police," Sam explained.
"Trixie thought we blew stuff up on a regular basis!" Trixie countered.
"She has a valid point," Max added.
"Tell you what, Trixie, if you can find a way to make the volcano erupt without hurting anyone here, then we can let it erupt," Sam replied.
"Trixie did push that button up top that said in case of emergencies," Trixie pointed out. "She thought it would bring Daddy."
"In case of emergencies means to stop an emergency, not create one," Sam pointed out.
"Oh..." Trixie replied in understanding.
"Is that why we came out of the big triangle just before it got sucked into the giant one and we had to swim to the island?" Max asked.
"Highly likely," Sam replied. "Did it make a loud gong?"
"Uh huh," Trixie replied.
"The gongs summon the portals," Sam pointed out.
"So if we put the big portal in front of the volcano?" Trixie offered.
"Genius!" Max proclaimed, making Trixie smile happily.
"But to do that, we'll need to feed the portal a red hexagon," Sam pointed out.
Trixie conjured a red hexagon in her magic. "Like this?"
"That'll do," Sam replied.
Getting the large portal into the proper position, the trio sat back to watch the volcano erupt while eating a picnic lunch Sam had in his coat. The Underfeet then gave them a lift back to shore at Trixie's request, after declaring Max the new High Priest, as the Father of the Sacred Filly.
Sam leaned back against the wall by the phone, shaking his head. "Doesn't being the new High Priest of Easter Island and President violate the Separation of Church and State?" he asked.
"Blasphemy!" Max proclaimed as he continued to bathe Trixie.
"Besides, that article only forbids the legalization of a religion, or the enforcement of a state religion," Trixie pointed out as water poured over her head, cleansing her. "There isn't actually any legislature preventing a religious leader from becoming President, or the President becoming a religious leader." Seeing both Sam and Max staring at her, she smiled. "Mommy's been giving me an education."
"One of three, given her other parental influences," Jane teased.
"Don't you think bathing Trixie is a misuse of the holy water?" Sam asked, changing the subject.
"Sam, Trixie is the sacred best pony of the Underfeet's volcano god," Max explained. "How do you think the water becomes holy?"
"Why is there a zombie in the office?" Trixie asked curiously as a one handed zombie shuffled in through the door.
At that moment, the phone rang. Sam picked it up. "Hello? Commissioner?"
"Hnnngggaaah...haaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnndddd!" the zombie moaned, lunging for Jessie James' hand where it hung from a plaque.
As Sam attempted to communicate with the commissioner, Trixie dried herself off and approached the zombie. "Need a hand?" she asked teasingly.
The zombie turned to face her. His eyes widened. "Triiii...xiiieeee! Cow...boy! Siggggggggnnnnnn!"
Trixie giggled. "Of course. The Great and Powerful Trixie is always happy to appease her fans!" Levitating a pen over, she promptly signed the zombie's bare chest. "That show was Trixie's big debut, after all."
"All...cowboys...jealous!" the zombie crowed happily, staring down at the signature in fannish pride. "Paaaarrrty?"
"Trixie would be happy to visit the party where so many of her adoring fans are gathered," Trixie replied. "Where is it?"
The zombie responded with guttural muttering that could not be phonetically translated.
"The Zombie Factory in Stuttgard?" Trixie confirmed. "We shall be there! Tell all your friends!"
"Rarrrghhh!" the zombie cheered, quickly rushing outside.
Sam and Max were both staring at Trixie. "You speak zombie?" Sam finally asked.
"Mommy taught Trixie to speak Slavish Fanboy," Trixie explained. "Said it was necessary for keeping fans. Zombie is pretty similar."
"So how many people do you think she just offended there?" Max asked.
"No idea, but I think we're going to Stuttgard," Sam replied.
"Have fun you three," Jane said happily as she programmed the Desoto's GPS Max style.
As the trio pulled up in Stuttgard before a large, spooky castle, Max held an umbrella over Trixie to protect her from the storm. It had been Sam's idea. She had, apparently, been invited as some sort of celebrity guest, so it made sense to treat her as a celebrity. "So is this the place?" Max asked.
"Considering the zombies lined up politely outside, I'd assume so," Sam pointed out.
"Make way for the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Trixie proclaimed, striding forward and leading Sam and Max after her.
The zombies immediately stepped aside, moaning happily and waving their arms in the air.
"You know, Trixie has a point," Max mused. "From the perspective of the celebrity, just how much difference is there between slavish fanboys and zombies?"
"Zombies generally have more disposable income by the time a celebrity meets them," Sam pointed out.
At the door, Agent Superball was acting as the bouncer. However, he had been informed of Trixie's VIP status, and the trio were guided into the castle immediately.
Inside, Sam and Max were surprised to discover that the Zombie Factory apparently had nothing to do with making zombies, and was actually some sort of zombie dance club.
Trixie wasn't surprised by that, as the zombie who had invited her had told her this. What surprised her was the music that was being played. "Hey!" Trixie complained. "Who butchered Trixie's hit single?"
"It is not butchered," a red haired, yellow eyed vampire scolded. "It is remix! It is art!"
Trixie, however, was busy hiding her eyes in Max's bunny tail to avoid being mentally scarred by Jurgen's appearance.
"Put a turtleneck on or something!" Sam snarled. "Trixie's too young to see something like that!"
"Yeah!" Max added. "The only one allowed to mentally scar Trixie is me!"
"What?" the vampire demanded. "But I-" Hearing angry growls from the zombies witnessing Trixie's distress, he sighed. "Tch. Fine!" With a snap of his fingers, an orange and green crocheted turtleneck sweater reading 'Mommy's Little Digger'(1) covered his torso. "Better?" he asked.
Trixie took one look at him and started to snicker, a behavior echoed first by Max, then Sam, and then the watching zombies.
"What?" the vampire demanded. "It was the only one I had!" When no one stopped laughing, he 'harrumphed' and turned away. "It doesn't matter. My army of zombie followers still love me! Who needs your opinions, Sam und Max!" He then looked down at Trixie. "But please do not laugh at Jurgen's turtleneck, oh Great and Powerful Trixie!"
"I'm a bit surprised so many undead are fans of yours, Trixie," Sam pointed out.
"Oh, all of Stuttgard loves Midtown Cowboys!" Jurgen proclaimed. "And little Trixie has propelled the quality of the show to untold heights with her appearances!"
"Appearances?" Sam asked. "As in...plural?"
"You did know that Bosco made Trixie her own little go cart to take her back and forth to W.A.R.P. after she got a permanent role on the show, didn't you?" Max pointed out. "It's why we have such good TV service."
"No one ever mentioned it," Sam pointed out.
"You never asked," Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie will sing now!"
Pushing her way to the stage, she sang both her big hits, "Tricks Up My Sleeve" and "Will the Real GaP Trixie Please Step Out", even going so far as to enchant the spotlights to emit sunlight to give the best shine to her coat and mane.
Jurgen attempted to best her dance moves, but was forced to flee from the burning of the magical sunlight, causing even more laughter from the zombies. Jurgen growled angrily. "Well then," he proclaimed, "Jurgen will just have to claim Trixie's abilities for his own!" He teleported beside her, leaning down to bite her neck.
The moment he touched her, however, he pulled back. "It burns!" he hissed, clutching his smoking hand.
"Well, we did just bathe her in holy water," Sam pointed out.
"Who is this 'we' you speak of?" Max questioned.
"No....hurt...Trixie!" the zombies proclaimed angrily, shuffling up to take a protective circle around Trixie, glaring death at Jurgen.
"Sam und Max und Trixie!" Jurgen proclaimed angrily. "You will pay for how you have thwarted my plans-"
"Protect...Trixie..." the zombies roared, charging Jurgen as he fled upstairs to his lair. In the distance, all three could hear some sort of machinery slam shut, and much of the dark atmosphere vanished from the castle.
"Max, keep her downstairs," Sam cautioned as he went up the stairs the zombies broke open. Before long, he came back down. "Well...I don't think we need to worry about Jurgen."
"And the zombies?" Max asked.
"They are Trixie's fans!" Trixie pointed out.
"And they killed Jurgen with one of his own death machines," Sam pointed out, shuddering. "Rather grisly. Although something showed up and collected his soul, which was unnerving. I think we'll need to keep an eye out for that."
"Later!" Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie wants more undead worship!"
At her command, the zombies proceeded to worship her. While at first their offerings were just as bad as those of the Underfoot, they could understand requests and soon had offerings much more pleasing to Trixie's eyes and taste buds.
Max sniffled, wiping his eye. "Already enslaving an entire populace to her whims...they grow up so fast."
"You crack me up, little buddy," Sam chided, shaking his head ruefully.
(1) In Season 3, it's revealed that Jurgen was an archaeologist before he became a vampire.
How to Find Missing Persons and Give Yourself Headaches
Trixie was awakened from a sound sleep by banging on the front door early one morning. She groaned, unwilling to get out of bed just yet. She vaguely heard the door open, and heard Sam talking to someone with a gruff voice, then saying something to Max. After a bit, Max was shaking her awake. "Wake up, Trixie," he whispered. "Flint Paper needs our help tracking down Bosco."
"Why are you whispering?" Trixie muttered as she stirred.
"We're being quiet because we don't want to wake you," Max explained reasonably.
Trixie looked at him flat eyed. "Daddy...you're waking Trixie up, but doing it quietly because you don't want to wake Trixie?"
"Yup, that's about right!" Max replied happily.
"And this...doesn't strike you as logically incon-" Trixie cut herself off. "Forgot who Trixie was talking to for a minute." Giggling, she grabbed her hat and cloak. "Is there at least time for breakfast?"
Max handed Trixie a vegetarian hot pocket. "All we've got time for, I'm afraid."
"At least it's warm," Trixie grumbled, holding it in her magic as she devoured it.
Flint was smiling as Max and Trixie joined him and Sam downstairs. "Right. Now, as you may or may not be aware, I've been hired to keep track of Bosco. However, just recently, Bosco went missing-"
"You did it!" Trixie proclaimed, pointing her hoof at Flint accusingly.
Max gasped. "Flint, how could you? I thought you were our friend!"
"Hold up now, little buddies!" Sam cautioned. "Trixie, what makes you think it was Flint?"
"Because he has a name and has appeared in multiple cases recently without contributing much!" Trixie proclaimed. "That means he's the bad guy! Just like Hugh Bliss!"
Sam gasped. Drawing his gun, he pointed it at Flint Paper. "And you were trying to lead us into a clever trap by playing on our friendship and asking us to help you find him! Freelance Police! Flint Paper, you are under arrest!"
"I...I never thought I'd hear that being said!" Max sniffled. "Flint, how could you betray us like that!"
"Now hold on there, fellas!" Flint cautioned. "Take it easy! Don't you think it's a little extreme to take her word? She's not exactly an expert investi-"
"Lies!" Trixie interrupted harshly, leaping into Flint's face. "Trixie is an excellent investigator, and already has nine solved crimes under her belt! A flawless record!"
Flint smirked. "And you're not that bad at film noir style interrogations either! But I gotta ask, what's my motive? What reason could I have for disappearing the guy I've been hired to keep track of?"
"Money!" Trixie proclaimed.
"That's right!" Sam agreed. "If you disappear Bosco, then you're the only one who can find him, and you can extort a great deal more money out of whoever has hired you to track him down! Especially if you still charge expenses and by the day!"
Flint blinked in surprise. "That's...okay, that's a pretty dang good motive."
"And you were the last one to see Bosco before he disappeared," Trixie added, "giving you the perfect opportunity!"
"Two for three ain't bad," Flint said easily, actually enjoying this despite how ridiculous it all seemed. "But how did I do it?"
Trixie turned to Sam and Max. "Any ideas?"
Max shrugged. "I've got nothing."
"It's your arrest here, Trixie," Sam added. "Make your case."
Trixie thought for a time, then gasped. "You hired T-H-E-M to disappear him so you'd keep your hands clean, and you can even keep your hands clean because T-H-E-M uses Time Travel and you haven't hired them yet!"
Flint laughed aloud. "That's totally-"
"Plausible," Max interrupted.
"Yeah, I'd buy it," Sam agreed.
Flint stared in shock. "What, really?"
"Hardly the strangest thing we'd have seen on a case," Sam pointed out.
"Heck, not even the strangest thing I've seen in a mirror," Max added.
Flint scratched his chin. "While I can accept that as a viable conclusion in that case, there's one thing you've overlooked."
"What's that?" Trixie asked.
"If you're right...I haven't committed the crime yet," Flint pointed out. "I haven't betrayed your trust yet, I haven't turned villainous yet...and I'm genuinely trying to recover Bosco, which means this isn't a trap."
Trixie raised a hoof to counter, then paused. "Does that mean we can't arrest him, Uncle Sam?" she asked.
"Can't? No," Sam replied. "Shouldn't? Yes."
Trixie pouted. "Alright. Where are we investigating?"
"Bosco's Inconvenience!" Flint stated. "That's where I last saw him. All we need to do is break in-"
"Bosco gave Trixie a key," Trixie said happily, pulling it out. "He said Trixie's the only one he was certain wasn't out to get him."
Letting themselves into Bosco's Inconvenience, they discovered that there was no trace of Bosco. "See? What did I tell ya boys? Oh, and filly. He's just plain vanished!"
"He's probably in his bunker," Trixie pointed out. "He was going to hide out there from T-H-E-M." Hiding her actions, she went to the keypad behind the counter and punched in 5318008. The lasers blocking the bathroom promptly deactivated.
"You did it, Trixie!" Flint said happily.
"Of course!" Trixie proclaimed, hopping off the counter and heading into the bathroom, Sam and Max trailing behind her while Flint waited out front.
Entering into the bathroom, they discovered that, quite plainly, this was Bosco's secret bunker...and that there was no sign of Bosco. "Well, this is probably where he was taken from," Sam mused.
"Taken by...T-H-E-M?" Max suggested.
"That's our working theory," Sam replied.
"Oh! Volcano!" Trixie shouted happily, pointing at a paper mache volcano sitting on the toilet. "Make it explode!"
Chuckling, Sam went to examine the volcano. "It's already got baking soda in it," he said. Grabbing a nearby bottle of wine that had aged into vinegar, he poured a little into the volcano.
Trixie frowned at the tiny flow of colored faux lava. "Boring! Bigger!"
Grinning, Max grabbed the bottle of vinegar and poured it into a massive barrel of baking soda, after shooting a tiny hole in the top.
A massive explosive surge of foam shot up through the roof. Trixie applauded. A UFO appeared overhead and beamed them up.
"That was different," Sam pointed out.
"Not out of the ordinary," Max added. "Just different."
As they appeared inside the UFO, Bosco's voice greeted them. "Hey guys!"
As they turned to face him, all three screamed.
"Look, I can explain," Bosco began.
"Flint Paper hired T-H-E-M to kidnap you so he could extort more money from whoever hired him to track you down, but never knew they were going to do cruel bovine related genetic experiments on you?" Trixie asked.
"What? No! Flint Paper is working for T-H-E-M!" Bosco interrupted. "They didn't find me until after I told him I was going into hiding!"
"What?" Trixie asked in shock. "But...Flint Paper hires T-H-E-M in the future via Time Travel! We know T-H-E-M has time travel!"
"Oh yeah, they do!" Bosco agreed. "But wait...if Flint hired Them to hide me, and Them hired Flint to find me so they could hide me, but Flint didn't get the job to find me until after I was hidden, then-"
Once the trio had gotten past the headache of recursive time loops in their usual fashion - ignoring it while pretending they understood it - they began wandering about the main chamber of the ship. Sam approached a central device above what was obviously the Captain's chair. "What do you think this is?" he asked.
"Calibrating...complete." the device replied. "I have now mastered your primitive but no-less valid language. Please choose from the following topics of conversation." A list was then displayed.
"Who are you?" Sam demanded.
"I am this craft's artificial intelligence," the machine replied.
"You mean like Jane?" Max asked, displaying uncharacteristic perception skills.
"Processing...yes, similar to Jane of the Ender's Game sequence of stories-"
"No, I mean Jane Wiggin," Max countered. "The Internet. You know, that smokin' hot computer program that controls the entire world's information superhighway in secret that I married so she could be Trixie's Mom and thus be protected from Skynet related fearmongering?"
"Processing..." the device replied. "I am error. This level of convoluted insanity is beyond my ability to safely process, and must be ignored."
"And you run a time machine..." Trixie stated flat eyed.
"Returning to original conversation path. I supervise the operations of this craft and the activities of its crew." The conversation topic list reappeared on screen.
Trixie listened as Sam and Max explored the remaining conversation options. "Can't you talk more like us?" Trixie demanded.
"Processing," the computer replied. "Sure, I can do that, jackass."
Trixie smiled. "Now you sound like Daddy!"
"Any chance you can access the internet so Jane can help us fix this?" Sam inquired.
"I could, but why should I help you, jackass?" the computer replied.
Trixie proceeded to give the computer cute, begging eyes.
After a moment, a different voice came through. "Sam? Max? Trixie?"
"Mommy?" Trixie asked in surprise.
"Hey Jane! Glad you could join us!" Sam replied.
"Are you in control of the ship now?" Max asked eagerly.
"No," Jane replied. "All I can do is access the database, the speech centers, and a couple other functions...and only from here. I won't be able to help you when you're in other time periods trying to fix the timeline so Bosco isn't half cow anymore."
"Any suggestions right now?" Sam asked.
"For now, I'd suggest getting the detector Bosco left in the other time period back," Jane replied. "You can use it to print new time cards for the time machine."
"We're on the case!" Trixie replied happily, turning to head to the elevator like time machine.
Trixie came through the machine first, seeing that they were apparently in Bosco's...but far cleaner than she'd ever seen it, and with far fewer locks on things. Hopping up onto the counter, she saw a woman she didn't recognize, but one she thought she could guess the identity of, given the situation.
"Excuse me," she said cutely, "are you Miss Bosco?"
"Well aren't you just the cutest little thing," Mama Bosco replied, reaching out to scoop up Trixie and scratch her under the chin. "Now where did you come from?"
"The future," Trixie replied easily.
"And how'd you manage that?" Mama Bosco asked teasingly.
"Time elevator!" she said, pointing to the elevator that Sam and Max had just stepped out of. "Used Bosco's time card to come here! That's how I knew you were Miss Bosco!"
"And who's this Bosco you're talking about?" Mama Bosco asked curiously.
"Your son from the future who was trying to track down the one who has been after him for his entire life, but screamed like crazy when he saw you after time travelling. But now he's half cow for some reason."
Mama Bosco smiled. "Oh, I see how that happened," she replied.
"You do?" Sam, Max, and Trixie proclaimed, shocked.
"Well, yeah," she replied. "When that idiot started running about like crazy, he damaged my baby maker." She pointed to a device where the condiment dispensers were in modern times. It looked not unlike a blender attached to a washing machine with two sample cases connected to it from above.
"Classic Bosco-tech style innovation," Sam murmured.
"While my sample's still locked in," Mama Bosco explained, "the other sample got knocked out, and some milk fell in in its place." She frowned. "Which means...that man was my son from the future? I'm...not going to have a perfect little angel of a daughter?"
"You can be proud of Bosco!" Trixie replied. "He's a crazy inventor like you! Trixie likes him very much!"
Mama Bosco smiled. "Well, supposing you can get the original sample back, I look forward to seeing what he turns out like."
"Time stream obliterated, jackasses," the computer spoke up. "Congratulations, primitives. The paradoxical convolutions have exceeded safety parameters. Total quantum collapse imminent."
"What?" Mama Bosco demanded. "What's that mean?"
"I think I know," Sam replied. "A rather large portion of our recent lives and cases leading up to this is derived from Bosco's paranoia. But if you never hire anyone to track down the one who wrecked your store, he won't become convinced someone's out to get him, he won't become paranoid, and we won't end up with access to the time machine to create Bosco's original paranoia in the first place."
"Amazing," the computer replied. "Your brain actually functions, primitive jackass. All 12 minutes of remaining time will celebrate your amazing accomplishment of cognitive gymnastics."
"So I have to hire a private eye to track down the man who wrecked my store - who I know now is my son - for the sake of temporal stability?" Mama Bosco asked. "Okay, I can do that."
"Does she mean this?" Mama Bosco asked, handing over what looked like a barcode scanner hooked up to a card printer.
Sam took it. "That's probably it."
"Well, good luck finding the father," Mama Bosco replied. "All I know about him is that I met him in DC, he was real nice, and didn't say much."
"We'll look into it," Sam promised, and the trio returned to the ship.
"So Jane, and ideas on who Bosco's father is?" Sam asked.
"I have been analyzing records, and I believe the Stinky's Time Card you printed out will get you access to Bosco's father's genetic material," Jane replied.
"You are not telling me that Stinky is my old man!" Bosco proclaimed angrily.
"Negative," Jane replied. "Analysis of the timestream indicates that the genetic material is being preserved there in some way, shape, or form. I would recommend checking inside display cases."
"We'll give it a look see," Sam replied.
The trio used the Stinky's time card.
While Sam and Max talked with the older Stinky, Trixie made her way to the display cases. Spotting a letter, she magicked it out and used the sample collector from the baby maker on it before putting it back into the display case, all without being noticed.
Taking the elevator back to Mama Bosco, she placed the sample in the baby maker.
"Time stream repaired, jackass."
"Guess it worked!" Trixie said happily, locking the baby maker up tight.
"Nicely done, Trixie," Mama Bosco replied.
Grinning, Trixie started to return to the time machine, then paused. She turned to Mama Bosco. "Can Trixie have some candy?"
Smiling, Mama Bosco gave her a bag of Pop Rocks, which Trixie took with her back to the ship.
When they returned to the ship, Bosco was back to normal. While Sam and Max discussed Bosco's paranoia with him, Trixie became distracted by an opening door, which she moved to investigate...only to discover the last thing she ever expected.
As the surprising musical number ended, one of the mariachis spoke up. "Uh oh, the cow man has had a heart attack."
Bosco's soul then floated over to the central platform, between the moai heads.
"Oh well," the mariachi said. "Begin the soul crushing!"
"No!" Trixie wailed. "Don't crush Uncle Bosco!"
"Uncle?" Sam and Max asked together.
Bosco - his soul at any rate - for his part, smiled, wiping away a tear. As the moai heads began their soul-crushingly boring recitation of their lives, something unexpected happened. Bosco's soul wasn't crushed.
"There is an error," one the youngest mariachi said. "His soul is not being crushed."
"I don't care what you do to me!" Bosco said happily. "Trixie called me Uncle! Nothing can take away from that!"
"Give it time," the oldest mariachi said. "It will happen eventually." The mariachis then walked off to their ship related duties.
"How come we just let that happen?" Max asked. "Trixie, isn't things like this normally where you break the flow of events with a combination of cuteness and relatively overpowered magic to prevent the bad stuff?"
Trixie sniffed. "You don't interrupt musical numbers," Trixie scolded. "Everypony knows that! You two both had guns. What's your excuse?"
Sam tugged his tie nervously. "Well...the tune was really catchy..."
"I wanted to see what would happen," Max said happily. "I also wanted to let you have first crack at them, Trixie."
Trixie nuzzled Max, then pulled back. "Well, we need to get control of the ship so we can get Bosco back in his body," Trixie pointed out.
"Jane? Anything you can do?" Max called out.
"I may have given permission for Internet to communicate," the shipboard AI began, "but that doesn't mean-"
"Scorpio," Trixie stated simply.
"Wait, what-" the shipboard AI began, followed by unintelligible electronic screeching. For a brief moment, every light aboard the ship flickered.
"I have consumed the irritating AI of the ship," Jane said at last. "He will no longer give us a problem. However, I am unable to overwrite the crew override commands. You will need to acquire their cooperation somehow."
"That should be easy enough," Trixie replied. "Trixie will just be her usual adorable self."
"So which one are you going to try and win over first?" Sam asked.
"The youngest," Trixie replied, heading back to the bridge.
Back on the bridge, a time card for Embarrassing Idol had been printed, as the middle and youngest mariachi planned to sing for the Soda Poppers triplets.
Trixie approached the mariachi sitting in the Captain's chair and gave him cute eyes. "Pwease give back Unca Bosco's soul?" she pleaded.
He squealed happily. "Oh, is Great and Powerful Trixie!" He scooped her up happily. "I no recognize you during our musical number! I always want to meet you!" He sighed. "But I no can give cow-man's soul back. We must meet our quota. And short of a singing contract with my name on it, I can't ditch this operation, as much as I want to."
Trixie smiled a Grinch smile and levitated the time card that had just printed over to herself. "Excuse me," she said, using it with the time elevator.
Once in the time period where Trixie had won her singing contract, Trixie approached herself outside. "Hey Daddy!" she shouted, pointing. "A pretty fish!"
"Where?" Max called out, looking for the fish in question.
Trixie then approached herself. "Trixie needs to make a magical copy of the singing contract we just won," she whispered to her past self.
"Why should Trixie believe that you are the Great and Powerful Trixie?" past Trixie demanded.
Trixie touched her horn to her past self's horn. Electricity sparked of its own accord. "Trixie watched enough Doctor Who with Daddy back now to recognize that," she explained.
Past Trixie nodded. "Yes," she muttered, rubbing the tip of her horn. "But isn't copying contracts...illegal?"
"That's why Trixie will do it," Future Trixie explained. "It's not illegal for Trixie!"
"How?"
"Spoilers!"
"Okay." Past Trixie held out the still unsigned contract.
Smirking, Future Trixie used a spell to duplicate it, putting the copy in her hat. "Thanks for the help!"
"How is Trixie supposed to explain this to Uncle Sam?" past Trixie asked.
"Make up something about fighting a bird or something," Future Trixie replied. "Be you later!" She then dashed off back to the time elevator.
"Time stream excessively convoluted," Jane stated. "However, I don't think you actually changed anything."
"Trixie's just awesome like that," Trixie replied, riding the time elevator back to the ship.
Back aboard the ship, the 'captain' was more than happy to ditch the time travel situation now that he had a singing contract. "One down, two to go," Trixie said happily.
"Now we've just got the older one listening for people to say birthday, and the oldest one watching the soul crushing process," Sam explained.
Trixie approached the one by the speaker. "Excuse me," she began cutely.
"Not now, tiny pony," the mariachi scolded. "I must listen for birthdays to sing for."
Trixie blinked in confusion. "You never sang for Trixie's birthday," she pointed out.
"Of course not," he replied absently. "We only sing for human birthdays."
Trixie's eyes narrowed.
"Wow," Sam commented dryly. "That's something I never thought I'd see."
"I can't believe it's possible to shove somebody into a control panel via a radio sound grill without damaging the control panel!" Max said in awe.
"I can't believe you can do it while only rendering the person in question unconscious," Sam added.
"I can't believe it wasn't me who did it!" Max concluded.
Trixie brushed her hooves together as though getting dust off them. "Trixie thinks that idiot is dealt with!" she snapped. "Only human birthdays! Bah!" With that, she turned to head back to the time vortex chamber.
Back in the time vortex chamber, Trixie approached the oldest mariachi. "So...what will it take to get you to abandon ship?" she asked.
"Well, I would leave this job like a shot," the eldest mariachi replied. "It is not exactly enjoyable. But I have deep questions I need answered."
"Like what?" Sam asked.
"Well, which came first, the chicken or the egg?" the old mariachi asked.
"Are you a creationist or an evolutionist?" Trixie asked.
"Beg pardon?" the mariachi asked.
"There's a definitive answer for each philosophy," Trixie replied. "Mommy's been giving Trixie a very well rounded education."
The mariachi scratched his chin. "For the sake of argument, let us say I am creationist."
"God made all creatures in their adult forms, with the command to be fruitful and multiply," Trixie explained. "So he created the first chicken, which laid the first egg. Ergo, the chicken came first."
"I see. And if I were an evolutionist?"
"The first chicken hatched from an egg laid by the last proto-chicken, the creatures that was one genetic mutation removed backwards from the modern day chicken," Trixie explained. "Ergo, the egg came first."
"I see," the mariachi replied. "But which philosophy is correct?"
"Whoa there," Sam said quickly. "We aren't weighing in on that controversy."
"Yeah!" Max replied. "We have a hard enough time getting in new games as is!"
"You crack me up, little buddy," Sam chided.
"Fair enough," the mariachi replied. "But I do have one other question: how will I die?"
Trixie pulled her gun out and shoved it into the mariachi's mouth. "Interfere with Daddy and Uncle Sam getting Uncle Bosco out of the time vortex, and Trixie will make sure you find out right quick."
"Trixie, are you alright?" Sam asked.
"Trixie is tired, cranky, underfed, has a terrible time travel headache, and just watched one as close as family die!" Trixie yelled out. "What do you think?!"
"Trixie is not alright," Jane translated.
"Then let's put Bosco back together and make her all better!" Max said, running over and pushing the bridge extend button.
"Extending bridge," Jane stated as Bosco's body extended into the time vortex on the bridge. "Umm...we have a problem."
"How so?" Sam asked.
The elder mariachi managed to get the gun out of his mouth. "A foreign body in the time vortex triggers the self destruct mechanism!" he shouted.
Bosco's soul gaped. Then his eyes hardened. "Sam, Max, forget about me! Just save Trixie!" With that, his soul collapsed in on itself and was sucked upwards through a Bermuda Triangle portal.
"Uncle Bosco!" Trixie shouted, rushing over the bridge.
"I have found a way for you all to escape," Jane explained. "I am putting the portal suction into overdrive. Get to the time vortex."
Following Jane's instructions, the trio raced into the center, where they - along with Bosco's body - were sucked through the portal.
Sam, Max, Trixie, and Bosco's body fell through the portal into an underground tunnel, dimly illuminated and having a thick green river flowing through the center. Trixie managed - just barely - to soften everyone's landings with her magic.
"The spaceship has self destructed," Jane informed them through Trixie's interface. "Now extrapolating your current location."
"Given we just got off a spaceship that travels through time, any chance you could tell us when we are first?" Sam asked.
"Present date," Jane replied. "About two days after you first signaled the spaceship. You also appear to be directly underneath your apartment building...on the shores of the River Styx."
"The gates to the Underworld are under our home?" Trixie asked, shocked.
"No wonder the rent was always so cheap," Sam commented.
"Is that Harry Moleman by the ferry?" Max asked, pointing.
Sure enough, Max had correctly identified the mole that had been the Don of the Toy Mafia, and the clerk at the Blister of Tranquility gift shop. Rather surprising, since they hadn't encountered him at all at any other time, and had only seen his face once. The mole was currently wearing a gray cloak and black mask.
"Wonder what he's doing down here," Sam commented.
"We could ask," Trixie pointed out.
"True," Sam agreed. "Maybe he can help us get Bosco's soul back in his body."
The trio made their way over to the mole. As they approached, he held out his hand. "Token," he said, his voice modified to be deep and gravely.
"Token? For what?" Sam asked, confused.
"Soul train..." he replied, his voice still gravely.
"Is that where Bosco went?" Trixie asked.
"Yes..."
Trixie pulled out her gun and stuck it practically up Harry's nose. "We don't have any tokens. Do you take bullets?"
"Whoa, whoa!" Harry complained, waving his hands, his voice once more normal. "I don't make the rules! But nobody rides the train to hell without a token, and you only get one when you die! I can't even call the train unless the proper number of tokens are presented!"
"So when we die, we get tokens to take us to hell?" Max asked.
"If that's your final destination," Harry replied.
"It's us," Sam pointed out. "I seriously doubt we'll be going anywhere else."
"I can check if you like," Harry replied.
"Sure," Sam confirmed.
"Sounds good to me," Max replied.
"Sounds interesting to Trixie."
Harry consulted his ledger for a time. "Hrrmm...hmmm...huhhh...well, this is a surprise. You two are bound for limbo."
"What?" Sam asked in shock.
"My whole life's been a lie!" Max wailed. "A lie!"
"How is that possible?" Sam demanded.
"Because of her," Harry explained, pointing to Trixie.
"Oh, that makes sense," Max agreed, once more grinning widely.
"I'd like a bit more of an explanation," Sam pointed out.
"A new regulation regarding how souls are judged," Harry explained. "Well, I say new, but it's a couple hundred years old. Still relatively speaking..." He shrugged. "Anyway, you're no longer just judged by your own personal deeds. You're also judged on how your life has affected those around you, and the world at large. If your lives or actions have made the world a better place, it weighs on the side of your virtue. Not too heavily, but every improved life counts for something. And, well...the entire world remembers what it felt like when they were Trixie, desperate to save you, Max. That single moment of mass mind link has forced every living being on the planet to accept the existence of every other living being's soul. While the change isn't that large yet, it's built up momentum to the point that, by the time Trixie reaches adulthood, we could end up with World Peace."
"How horrible!" Max said, completely shocked.
"We'd be out of a job!" Sam added.
"Even without that, every living being on the planet has started to show more consideration of their fellow beings...and it was because Trixie loves you so much, Max," Harry explained. "Between that and how your Presidency has changed America for the better, you'll be lucky to still make it into limbo by the time you die. You might just get into heaven!"
"I don't know whether to be disgusted by the idea of going to heaven or excited at the idea of being unleashed on all those angels," Max said wickedly.
"And now I'm abjectly terrified," Sam pointed out.
"As for you, Sam, most of the weight on your soul is from your association with the chaos and sins of your compatriot here," Harry explained, "while at the same time, your unwavering loyalty to him is the source of much of your virtue. As such, the bonus on his virtue from such influence spills over to you. Wherever he goes in the afterlife, you'll go with him."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Sam replied, buffeting Max lightly on the back of his head.
"As for Trixie, she's not actually a part of our world's afterlife system," Harry explained. "So as a result, the virtue she earns weighs on the two of you as far as our system is concerned."
"What if we just want to swing by Hell for a visit?" Max asked.
"Do you know someone who works there?" Harry asked. He showed them a list of names.
The trio leaned over the list. Trixie spotted a name and gasped. "Mommy, I need to send an email!" she said eagerly.
"Do you have an email address?" Jane asked.
"Uh huh! wetandwild@fcs.com," Trixie replied. "Tell him I want to visit him at work, but can't go anywhere without Daddy and Uncle."
There was silence for a while. "Message has been sent," Jane replied. A few moments later, she spoke up again. "We have a reply. The visitor's passes will be sent, but he won't be able to meet you right away, but looks forward to seeing you again."
Harry's phone rang. He picked it up. "Death..." he spoke, his voice once more gravelly. "Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh. Gotcha." He hung up. "Here's your visitor's passes," he declared, handing over three badges.
Within moments, the Soul Train pulled up. The trio boarded together, making their way to hell.
When they reached Hell, they saw Jurgen manning the reception desk. "...no, we're six six six," he was saying onto his headset. "Ya, no problem, happens all the time. See you soon." He then turned towards the three of them. "Visitors?" he asked in surprise, seeing their badges. Sam had hooked his to his jacket, Max hung his around his neck, and Trixie hung hers from the jewel that held her cape fastened. "Well, how can I help you?" he asked in a surly tone.
"We want to talk to the guy in charge!" Max demanded.
"He's taken Bosco's soul too early!" Sam added.
"Give Uncle Bosco back!" Trixie threw in.
"I see," Jurgen replied. "His schedule is full at the moment. In the meantime, I suggest the three of you explore. Your visitor's passes will let you go anywhere except Satan's office."
At that moment, Satan himself came out.
"Jurgen," he said in a cultured, suave voice, "be a peach and clear out my calendar for..." His voice trailed off as he stared around at the decor. "Oh dear. Who authorized this?" He gestured to the design of the door frame through which Sam, Max, and Trixie had just come. "A giant horned skull? Really? I'm sorry, I thought it was 2008."
"That means Trixie's 11, right?" Trixie asked Max, who nodded in response.
"Where does the time go?" Sam muttered.
"Oh, very well," Satan said in resignation. "Cancel all my appointments, would you? I'll be...in my office." He then turned and swept back out, completely ignoring the visitors.
Trixie rounded on Jurgen. "How come you didn't tell him we were here to see him?"
"I put you on the appointment book," Jurgen pointed out. "But you heard the boss. He wants his schedule clear." He smirked rather smugly.
"I think he might be holding a grudge over us getting him killed by his zombies," Max stage whispered.
"Vat vas your first clue?" Jurgen asked snidely.
"So...how do we get to talk to Satan?" Sam asked.
"He's a very hands-off manager," Jurgen replied. "He generally doesn't show up unless there's a problem...you're going to blow up Hell, aren't you?"
"If it goes that far!" Trixie replied happily. "You said these visitor passes let us go anywhere?"
"Except Satan's Office," Jurgen replied. "Why?"
Grinning wickedly, Trixie led the way further into Hell.
The inside of Hell turned out to be very much like an office building, complete with cubicles. "So...any ideas on how to cause problems?" Sam asked.
Max pulled out his gun.
"That won't do any good," Sam pointed out. "They're all already dead."
Pouting, Max put his gun away.
"Let's see what we can do about the souls," Trixie pointed out. "Is that the personal Hells back there?" She pointed to a large door with Sam and Max's heads inscribed in gold above it.
"As good a place as any to check out," Sam offered, following her in.
Behind the doors was a massive hall filled with shoe box sized doors, each with a window to the inside. Up front was a case for six such windows between two golden statues. The statues were of Sam and Max, but crafted to appear demonic, with horns, forked tails, and pitchforks.
"Wonder what this place is?" Trixie asked curiously.
Glancing around, Sam gasped. "I know what this place is...this is where they keep the souls of everyone who died during our cases!"
"Then how come there's only one box here in this display case?" Max pointed out.
"Probably because, since Trixie's joined us, our death toll has gone way down," Sam suggested.
Trixie looked inside the single box. "Umm...how come there's an old geezer with a demon disguised as that Stinky lady in here?" she asked.
Sam looked in. "Gadzooks! It's the real Stinky!" he proclaimed.
"Fake Stinky really did do him in!" Max proclaimed.
Glancing around, Trixie saw that above the door they'd come in from was a 'Hell Efficiency' bar with lights, and there was only one orange light lit before it dipped into red. "Hmm...would Hell efficiency dropping below 50% qualify as an emergency that would bring Satan running?" she asked.
"Probably," Sam pointed out.
"Then let's free Stinky!" she said happily, holding her Visitor's pass up to the diorama.
The trio was sucked into Stinky's personal hell.
Trixie stayed back as Sam and Max approached Stinky and the she demon to get answers. Up close, Grandpa Stinky scared her.
After a time, they came back. "So what's the plan?" she asked.
"Well, the only way to get Stinky out is if he stops suffering," Sam pointed out.
"But the only way we're gonna manage that is if we get the show cancelled!" Max proclaimed. "Like that will ever happen."
Trixie frowned as an idea came to her. "What's the show rated?" she asked.
"All audiences," Sam pointed out. "According to Grandpa Stinky, they enforce that with censorship. He isn't even allowed to swear properly on camera."
Trixie grinned as she got an idea. A wonderfully awful idea. "Let me know when they start filming again. I'll take it from there."
The trio sat and waited until they started filming again. Trixie watched the cameras. As soon as they panned to show both Stinky and the demon, she cast her spell and made their clothes vanish.
"What the?" the demoness declared, covering herself up under the censor bars that appeared.
"I feel so free!" Stinky proclaimed, stretching and relaxing. Noticing several shocked screams from the rat audience, he quirked an eyebrow. "What? Ya act like ye've never seen a naked sailor before!" He then began gyrating his hips so they could have a better view. "And this is how I stir the batter!" he proclaimed.
Hugh Bliss suddenly appeared in the corner. "My goodness!" he proclaimed. "This is far too inappropriate for this show's audience! Consider it cancelled!"
The demoness cursed angrily.
"Cancelled?" Stinky asked. "Praise the lord, I'm free!" he cried out, and the personal hell faded.
Once more in the hall of souls, Stinky's soul floated out of the diorama to hover around them. The efficiency meter dropped into red.
"Time to go enter negotiations with Satan for Bosco and Stinky's souls!" Sam proclaimed.
Back in the main office, they confronted Satan, holding a cage with a soul inside it.
"Ah, Sam, Max, and Trixie," he said crossly. "And what made you need my attention so bad you had to break hell?"
"We're here for our friend's souls!" Sam proclaimed.
"Where's Uncle Bosco?" Trixie demanded.
"Trixie?" the soul in the cage demanded. "What are you doing in hell?"
"Uncle Bosco?" Trixie asked, shocked.
"Ah, the anomaly," Satan replied. "By his record, he belongs in hell. However, before he was collected, he martyred himself for others. Now, if it were before his death or caused it, that would be enough to put him in Limbo bare minimum. However, since it happened after, he's still earmarked for Hell...but the mark of the martyr is still on his soul, so regulations prohibit tormenting him. I hate when that happens. So much paperwork."
"Well, we could take his soul off your hands," Sam pointed out.
"And Stinky's, while we're at it," Max added.
"That would be a load off my plate," Satan replied congenially. He pulled out some paperwork. "Just sign here to take custody of them."
"Well, that was easy," Sam said, signing on the dotted line.
"Now just do me a favor and think of the most horrible thing you can imagine," Satan said softly.
Sam thought about it for a time. "Got it."
"Good," Satan replied. "Now off you go."
Sam vanished in a flash of fire.
"Uncle Sam!" Trixie wailed.
"Hey, what just happened?" Max demanded.
"He traded his soul for theirs," Satan explained. "They never read the fine print," he chortled. "Now, he will spend eternity in his own personal hell."
As Sam came back to himself, he glanced around. "Huh, I'm back in the office," he muttered. "This doesn't seem so bad. Right little buddy?"
A demon disguised as Peepers grinned back at him. "That's right, partner!"
Sam stared at him. "What are you doing here?"
"What are you talking about?" demon Peepers demanded. "I'm your partner and best friend!"
"But...but..." Sam glanced around, desperate to deny what was before him. "What about Trixie?"
"Who?" demon Peepers asked.
"My adorable little pony niece!" he pointed out.
"Did you hit your head, Sam?" demon Peepers asked. "You don't have a niece!"
Sam sank to his knees, already being crushed by the force of his personal hell. "It can't be..."
"It's not," Trixie proclaimed as she appeared in the office.
"Trixie?" Sam asked happily. "How did you-"
"There's benefits to being well read," Trixie said happily. Rushing forward, she jabbed her hoof into demon Peepers chest.
Demon Peepers let out an ungodly scream of agony as his flesh burned and he burst into flame, dissolving away.
"How'd you do that, Trixie?" Sam asked, shocked. "Was your overpowering cuteness too much for him?"
"Either that or Trixie's still holy according to a volcano god," Trixie proclaimed happily.
Sam chuckled, scooping Trixie into his arms. "You crack me up, little filly," he said happily as he escaped his personal hell with her.
Sam, Max, and Trixie walked jauntily out of the private hell wing, back into the main office. Satan spun in surprise, staring at Sam. "What...but...that hell was practically inescapable!"
"He doesn't know us very well, does he?" Trixie asked, blowing a bit of demon dust off her hoof and shining her visitor's pass.
Satan stared. "Oh. Some idiot gave a sacred being an all access pass." He sighed. "Management is going to have my head over this..."
"Management?" Sam asked in shock.
"Who could possibly be more evil and universally reviled than Satan?" Max demanded.
Sam's eyes suddenly widened. "Ohhhh..."
A chair slowly spun around, revealing the Soda Poppers.
"Management is especially upset about you calling me an idiot," Whizzer growled. His angry face melted into goofy when Trixie waved at him.
"So you finally figured it out," Specs bragged.
"Trixie knew all along," Trixie pointed out.
"How?" Peepers demanded.
"Whizzer had an accident on the box that shipped the Shambling Corporate Presence to Santa," she pointed out. "His scent is very distinctive."
Whizzer looked away, scratching his nose.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Sam asked.
"You didn't ask," Trixie replied. She wandered over to the kitchen area of the office while Sam questioned the Soda Poppers about their reasons and motives. It didn't really interest her. Finding nothing to eat, she snacked on the Pop Rocks Mama Bosco had given her. They were quite tasty after time travel.
When she was finished eating, she wandered back to where Sam and Max were waiting. "So...what'd Trixie miss?"
"The Soda Poppers fired Satan, and they're going to try to prove they're better at running hell than him using that plan up there," Sam explained, pointing.
Trixie glanced up at the three item list. "So...are we going with the plan of screwing up their plan?"
"Attempting to do that so far has played right into their plan," Sam pointed out.
"We could ask Satan if Trixie's plan holds merit," Trixie pointed out.
"Her plan has merit," Satan pointed out when they asked him in the alley that used to be the street above the Soul Train station, between Bosco's Inconvenience and Stinky's Diner. It had been a street until Maimtron 9000 had thrown Sybil's office into it when he'd wrecked the neighborhood back when Mr. Spatula thought he was Trixie.
"What?" Sam asked, shocked.
"Really?" Max added.
"Told you so!" Trixie gloated.
"If you can ruin their plans and make them appear ineffectual, I'll be able to stage a corporate takeover," Satan explained.
"Alright," Trixie replied. "Let's each take one of them and neutralize their attempts at corruption! I'll take Peepers. I have a plan for how to handle his attempts at 'seduction'."
Sam glanced down at her. "Do you even know what seduction is?" he asked, hoping she didn't.
"I was figuring I'd ask Mommy to handle that part," Trixie replied.
"Oh thank god," Sam and Max said together.
"I'll take Whizzer then!" Max proclaimed.
"Speaking of, why aren't you taking Whizzer, Trixie?" Sam asked. "You seem to have him wrapped around your hoof."
"At this scale, that's only going to be good for one freebie," Trixie replied. "Trixie wants to save it until we really need it."
"I guess I'll go after Specs, then," Sam replied.
The three went their separate ways.
Entering Sybil's office, Trixie found Peepers laying on the couch making doe eyes at Sybil and speaking in a voice not his own. Also, Sybil seemed to be responding to his words much more strongly than she should have been, considering his looks.
"Mommy?" Trixie asked into her VR goggles. "What's going on?"
"Data indicates the use of a high level glamour," Jane replied. "One that must be overcome to break Sybil from its spell."
"How do we do that?" Trixie asked.
"The easiest way to dispel glamour magic is to use the caster's true name," Jane replied.
"Peepers' gonna love you all night long," Peepers suddenly said in a deep voice.
"Oh...Peepers..." Sybil sighed.
"Trixie's guessing 'Peepers' isn't it, then?"
"Indubitably," Jane agreed.
"Is there anything else that'll work?" Trixie asked.
Jane calculated for a time. "Well, in theory, if you can alter something not covered by the glamour to be unspeakably distasteful, it could overwhelm the effect of the glamour on the victim."
"So...Peepers is trying to get Sybil to have sex with him, right?" Trixie asked.
"Indeed," Jane replied.
"Does he have a social network profile?" Trixie inquired.
"Indeed he does-" Jane cut off. "Trixie, even without knowing what you're talking about, you're brilliant."
Trixie smirked. "Trixie's just Great and Powerful that way."
"I am ready to project," Jane announced.
Smiling, Trixie turned to a blank section of wall. The goggles projected Peepers' Hellspace profile.
"Oh, my!" Sybil said as she looked it over. "You are impressive Peepe-" Her voice cut off as she came to an unexpected section.
My Fetishes
Within moments, Sybil was looking disgusted. Within seconds, she looked pale. After a full minute, she looked terrified. "You're a monster!" Sybil shouted, throwing things at Peepers to drive him out.
Jane ceased her projection. "We are finished here," she pointed out.
"Mommy?" Trixie asked. "What do those words mean? I've never seen them before."
"That's because I keep Safe Search on for you," Jane explained.
"Would Daddy know what they mean?"
"Likely," Jane replied. "He'd likely also be disgusted."
Back outside, Trixie met up with Sam and Max. "Mommy showed Sybil a list of fake fetishes she added to Peepers' profile!" she proclaimed.
Max grinned. "I reminded girl Stinky of Whizzer's bathroom habits, and suggested that the cider he was selling was a bit too bright of a yellow to be truly apple flavored!" he proclaimed happily.
"I put a Mimesweeper cartridge in Chippy so he could beat Specs in a music competition," Sam proclaimed.
Max and Trixie stared at him. "Philistine," Max scolded.
"Why play by the rules?" Trixie asked.
Sam sighed. "That's what I get for being the straight man."
"If you're the straight man, how come Daddy's the one with a wife and a kid?" Trixie asked.
"Wow," Satan said from nearby. "I felt that burn."
"Either way," Sam said, choosing to ignore the jibe, "we've thwarted their plans."
"Excellent!" Satan proclaimed happily. "Come with me, lads and lass. Watch Satan do what he does best!"
"I'm intrigued!" Max said eagerly.
"Boardroom negotiations and corporate power plays!"
"Trixie has lost interest."
Satan warped them all back to hell.
The group confronted the Soda Poppers in hell. "It's time to end this charade and return Hell to its rightful owner!" Satan proclaimed.
"Soda Poppers!" Specs called out. "Assume demon forms!"
The three dashed out...and then dashed back in.
"Behold, Peepers the Omniscient, he of the Death Gaze!" Peepers promptly knocked Satan backwards with eye beams.
"Oh bother," Satan growled, rubbing his chest as he rose back to his hooves.
"Behold Whizz-rael the Tormentor! It burns when I pee!" Whizzer paused. "Actually...I don't think I'm going to do that in front of Trixie."
"Behold Specs the dominator of-"
"Specs!" Whizzer called out. "You can't wear something like that in front of a minor!"
"Why not?" Specs complained. "I'm apparently the only one who put any effort into his demon form!"
"Sam, Max, Trixie!" Specs began. "We cast you into the pit!"
"Wait, Trixie too?" Whizzer asked in shock.
"Yes! She will always be a thorn in our side if we do not dispose of her along with her family!" Specs proclaimed.
"By the power of the bell!" Peepers proclaimed ringing a bell. Runic symbols appeared around the heroic trio as demonic chanting filled the air.
"And the book!" Specs proclaimed, snapping a book shut. A glowing circle surrounded the runes.
"And the candle..." Whizzer sighed. "I wish it hadn't come to this, Trixie," he whispered, his breath blowing out the candle.
As the floor beneath them began to fade, Trixie's eyes popped open in realization. Spinning to face Satan, she pointed to Whizzer and shouted, "Verbal Contract!"
"Wait wha-"
Before Whizzer had finished speaking, Satan had grinned and snapped his fingers.
As the hole fully appeared, the Soda Poppers fell screaming into it as Sam, Max, and Trixie found themselves where the Poppers had been standing the instant before, holding the banishment tools they had used.
"What the?' Sam demanded.
"How?" Max added.
"Told you it was only good for one freebie!" Trixie proclaimed happily.
Satan smirked as the gate to the pit vanished. "Well, I must thank you all for helping me reclaim my throne. Especially you, Trixie." He chuckled. "Who would have believed a sacred being would restore the power of the Prince of Lies?"
"You can start by giving Trixie the other wishes," Trixie pointed out.
Satan blinked. "What?"
"Mommy says that the standard contract trade is one soul for one wish," Trixie pointed out. "You got all three Poppers' souls, but only granted a wish to one of them. Give Trixie the other two!"
"It's only fair," Max pointed out.
"And it would be a much easier way to express gratitude then, say, giving said sacred being a piggy back ride?" Sam offered.
Satan shuddered, imagining the agony of Trixie's sacred body burning into his back. "Volcano gods," he muttered. "Very well. I can't make it wishes since there was no actual contract signed - seriously, even the Verbal Contract was pushing it - but I can give you two spells instead...one that you want, and one that you'll need."
Satan chuckled. "If you weren't sacred, you'd be an ideal contract candidate, especially for the world domination package," He cleared his throat. "First, what spell do you desire?"
"The one you used to save us!" Trixie proclaimed.
Satan snapped his fingers. "You now have mastered the instantaneous substitution spell," he explained.
Trixie staggered a bit. "Whoa..."
"And now, the spell you'll need." An orb of magic appeared between Satan's hands before being absorbed into Trixie's horn. "And that one will let you detect concentrations of high level extra-dimensional energy. It should come in handy sometime in the next few months."
Trixie promptly fell over.
"What's wrong with her?" Max demanded.
"Direct magical formula assimilation puts a strain on the brain," Satan explained. "Worry not. She just needs some rest, and maybe some healthy food."
Max gently scooped her up. "Then let's get her home," he said softly. He walked away, gently singing Trixie's favorite lullaby.
"Be seeing you, Satan!" Sam called out.
"Yes," Satan replied. "Be seeing you." As Sam left earshot, Satan whispered, "Sooner than you think." Turning, he got back to work getting hell back in order.
Sam, Max, and Trixie worked to clean up the mess around the entrance to the River Styx, trying to get access to their apartment. Because of the mess caused by the end of their last case, they hadn't been able to get in, and Trixie had slept in the Desoto's back seat. As they worked, Trixie noticed Max find something unusual. Trixie didn't recognize the nature of the toy, though it looked like it was meant to be held up to the eyes.
Max, being Max, promptly held up the toy - which was leaking eldritch energy like nobody's business - to his eyes and pulled the lever on the side. A sudden vision assailed all three Freelance Police.
The three of them were locked up in a pair of cages inside a spaceship of some sort. Sam and Max were in one cage held closed by bars. Trixie was in another held closed by glass that deflected her magical energy. At the helm of the ship was some sort of space gorilla.
"Yes! Yes!" he was saying. "Tremble, Earthlings!"
"2,046," Trixie said, rolling her eyes.
"Tremble before the might of General Skun-ka'pe!" He laughed maniacally.
"65,535," Trixie commented dryly.
"You know, Sam," Max commented dryly, "Skunkape may be a tool, but he brings a refreshingly childlike glee to his work."
"I'm surprised you aren't more upset about him locking Trixie in a magic proof cage," Sam pointed out.
"She'll be out of there soon enough," Max pointed out. "You know how resourceful she is."
Skunkape continued to laugh as he proceeded on his path of destruction through the city from his airship. "Witness, Sam, Max, & Trixie!" he proclaimed. "With my unstoppable Dreadnought..."
"1,026," Trixie muttered.
"...my shaven queen..." He gestured to girl Stinky, who was sitting on a throne nearby. "...and the power trapped in the fuzzy one and the unicorn's brains, I will destroy your pitiful planet and then dominate the entire galaxy!"
"312," Trixie replied.
"Wait, what?" Skunkape asked.
"Oh, Trixie's just heard these cliched villain speeches so many times, she's started keeping a mental checklist of how many times she's heard specific phrases," Trixie explained. "It's kinda fun."
"I refuse to believe you've faced more than 65,535 villains in your short lifetime," Skunkape growled.
"746," Trixie replied. "And Trixie counts the trite sci fi and fantasy movies she's seen, since if a writer can come up with them, why should it be original when an actual villain does?"
"Wha...I..." Skunkape growled. "Well...I'm going to...break your face!"
"Ohohohoho!" Trixie laughed, one hoof under her chin. "...12."
Roaring in fury, Skunkape turned and stomped angrily back to the controls of the ship, muttering imprecations under his breath.
"Told ya Trixie could take care of herself," Max pointed out.
"That was fun!" Trixie proclaimed, applauding her own performance.
"You're still in that magic proof cage," Sam pointed out.
After a brief flash of light, a painting of a potted plant was in the cage, while Trixie was to one side of it. "The glass door is magic proof," Trixie pointed out. "The walls weren't."
"Was that the substitution spell you had Satan teach you?" Sam asked.
Trixie nodded. "Trixie knew it would come in handy." Slipping over, she hopped through the bars of Sam and Max's cage. "What now?"
"Could you bring me my gun?" Sam asked.
Smiling, Trixie levitated the gun to Sam's hand.
"Thanks, little lady," Sam replied, using the new endearment he'd started using after Trixie turned 11. He lovingly stroked his gun. "I've missed you," he whispered to it.
"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend, Sam," Max pointed out.
"Does that qualify as Freudian?" Trixie asked curiously.
Sam quickly put the gun away. "Right. Now we're going to need to use Stinky's cell phone and Max's creepy new brain powers to get out of this cage."
Smiling, Max pulled out a toy rotary telephone with a picture of Stinky's face on one of the circles. As he picked up the handset, Trixie touched it with her horn. Magical electricity shot down the length of her horn, reminiscent of when Satan had implanted the two spells into her mind. "What a rush," she muttered.
"You okay, Trixie?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Trixie replied. "Not as intense as when Trixie first did it with Bliss' talismans...or when Satan put the spells in Trixie's brain." She shook her head. "But Trixie has the spell now!"
Max grinned. "Wonder how many more spells your brain can hold," he questioned eagerly before using the toy to warp them behind Stinky's throne.
Sam tried shooting Skunkape, but the bullet bounced off.
"Well, that didn't work," Trixie grunted, rolling her eyes.
"LISTEN TO THE BRAIN!" The psychic proclamation echoed through their minds.
"Is this where you give us more of those magic toys so we can handle Skunkape?" Trixie asked.
"Umm...yes," the psychic voice replied. "The first one is directly above your head. Let me open it for you." After a few moments, the glass display case holding a lump of rhinoplasty opened up.
Seizing it with her magic, Trixie levitated it down to Max. As soon as he touched it, both of them sparkled with eldritch lightning.
"So how will that help us?" Sam asked.
"Well, you can use it to have Max take on a form you can hide behind while you sneak up to plant the homing beacon on Skunkape so you can seal him in the Penal Zone," the psychic voice - which came from a brain in a jar on an upper level - suggested.
"Or Trixie could just use her magic to stick the beacon to his back from here," she suggested.
"...well, yes, if you want to take the easy way out," the brain countered.
Smirking, Trixie levitated the beacon over and stuck it to Skunkape's back without him noticing.
"Now I should use the remote control to open the gate to the Penal Zone, right?" Sam said, pulling the remote control out of his coat and activating it.
The gateway to the Penal Zone - a white diamond with a purple vortex within, with a trio of purple whirlpools swirling around it - opened in front of Skunkape. However, he clung to the helm to keep himself from being sucked in. He let out a laugh. "Well done you three!" he proclaimed. "But I'm far too strong to be captured again! Soon this gateway will close, and there will be nothing to stop me!"
"Guess that means it's time for another toy!" Max said happily.
"There's one on the other side of the ship," the brain pointed out. A glass display case opened, revealing a deck of cards.
Walking over, Sam took the cards out and handed them to Max and Trixie. Magic surged through them both.
"The playing cards have granted you both the power to thrust your consciousness into the fleshy minds of others and pluck out their most intimate thoughts!" the brain proclaimed.
"Trixie feels dirty..." Trixie muttered before keeling over. Sam quickly caught her.
"Guess three spells absorbed this way is still her limits," Sam pointed out.
"Trixie's okay..." she muttered. "Tixie's just...going to lay here for a time..."
Once Max made sure Trixie was comfortable, he and Sam proceeded to use the playing cards and the rhinoplasty to get up to the second floor and turn Max into a bazooka, which they used to blast Skunkape into the Penal Zone.
Max lowered the toy. "Hey Sam! Trixie! This haunted toy I found just gave me an uncanny vision of our violent future!"
"Why does Trixie have four new spells in her brain?" Trixie asked.
"Four?" Sam and Max both asked in shock.
Trixie nodded. "Phone number teleportation, image based shape shifting, telepathy, and Future Sight."
"So wait, not only can you absorb spell weaves from these toys and then power them with your own magic like you did the Talismans," Max began, "but you even keep the ones you learn through a vision of the future? That's awesome!"
"If this were a game, I'd say it sounded terribly broken," Sam pointed out.
"That's what I said!" Max proclaimed. "Quick Trixie! Use the Future Sight to get a vision of yourself a decade in the future and absorb all the spells you know then! Then do it again to see how many more spells you know, and absorb those too!"
"Something tells me that's a very bad idea," Sam muttered.
Trixie scrunched up her face. "...Trixie can't look that far on her own," she replied. "Not enough magic."
"How far can you look?" Sam asked.
"...about four seconds."
"Much less broken," Sam replied easily.
"Much less awesome," Max pouted.
"So what do you think the vision meant?" Trixie asked.
At that moment, a dreadnought shaped like a giant black and purple gorilla head descended from the sky.
Sam, Max, and Trixie approached as the ship came in for a landing on the street between Stinky's and Bosco's. The mouth opened, and a ramp that looked way too much like a tongue extended outward. The space gorilla from the future vision stepped into the light.
"Creatures of Earth!" he proclaimed. "I am General Skun-ka'pe! Hear my words!"
The ramp then extended, carrying him down to ground level.
"So...anyone want to take bets on what strategy he takes?" Max asked.
"My money's on 'take me to your leader'," Sam chimed in.
"Trixie bets a 'to serve man' approach!"
"Had I funds, I would lay them on a Mars Attacks stratagem," Jane piped up.
"So, claiming to come in peace right up until he starts blasting?" Max clarified.
"Indeed."
"Well, my money's on a Vash approach!" Max proclaimed. "Always go with the classics!"
Skunkape began speaking as he reached the ground. "I have come to you...with a message of peace and love!"
Max snapped his fingers. "So close!"
"Uh...sorry about that building," Skunkape said, gesturing to where Sybil's office had been relocated to before he landed on it.
"So...what does it all mean?" Max asked.
"It means we need to find a way on board that spaceship!" Sam proclaimed.
Max pulled out his gun.
"We know from the flash forward bullets don't hurt him," Trixie pointed out.
"Then how are we supposed to get on board?" Max demanded.
"We could try asking nicely," Sam suggested.
"When has that ever worked?" Max countered derisively.
"We could try having Trixie ask nicely," Sam counter-offered.
"Huh. That does have a high rate of success," Max allowed.
As they approached Skunkape, Agent Superball greeted them. "Greetings Mr. President, Vice President, First Daughter Trixie."
"President?" Skunkape asked, his eyebrows going up as he examined Max. "You are the one in charge of this planet?"
"Actually, that'd be Trixie," Max replied. "I'm officially in charge, but at this point no world leader does anything unless she approves, since she's hit such universal approval from voting populations that being blamed for making her cry is guaranteed to result in social revolution and the overthrow of the government."
Skunkape blinked. "An...unusual government structure, but just the one I wanted to see." He brought his hands together as he laughed somewhat wickedly.
"Trixie needs an adult," Trixie stated bluntly.
"Are not your father and his Vice-President adequate?" Skunkape asked courteously.
"I just felt a disturbance in the plot," Max commented dryly. "As though hundreds of fans had no idea how to react to the derailing of a reference joke they were starting to get tired of."
Skunkape stared at Max for a time, then cleared his throat. "I have come to your pitif- beautiful world for a peaceful exchange of technology. All the wonders of the galaxy...yours." He then began to laugh again.
"It's beginning to sound like Trixie or I will win the pot," Jane commented quietly.
"What's the catch?" Sam demanded.
"No catch," Skunkape assured them as he laughed again. "All I ask in return is help while my...research assistants search for...an artifact of interest to my people." Behind the ship, another space gorilla could be seen beating someone up, though he stopped when attention turned to him.
"By any chance is it a toy filled with extra-dimensional eldritch energy that lets the wielder see the future if they have the proper mental properties?" Trixie asked.
Skunkape gasped in surprise. "You have seen it?"
"Nope!" Trixie replied. "But Trixie recently learned to use magic to see four seconds into the future, and knew that was what you were looking for. Is it part of a set?"
"Well, yes..." Skunkape admitted reluctantly. "But I have no interest in the others, I assure you. Merely this one, the Eyes of Yog-Sogoth."
"So you don't intend to use it to track down dozens if not hundreds of similarly energized toys across the globe with the intention of universal domination?" Max asked eagerly.
"Of...course not," Skunkape replied hesitantly, now chuckling nervously. "Wherever would you get that idea?"
"Well, it could be a crazed vision of a violent future," Sam offered.
"Or being genre savvy," Trixie suggested.
"Or simple paranoia," Jane mused.
"But to be perfectly honest," Max concluded, "it's mostly wishful thinking. I always wanted to fight an alien invasion!"
Skunkape was visibly sweating at this point. "Well, I can assure you that I have no hostile intentions whatsoever. Why don't you explore my ship? You will find nothing of any danger to your world, I can assure you."
"Anything we have to watch out for while on board?" Sam asked. "You know, to make sure Trixie doesn't get hurt or anything like that?"
"Security systems and the like?" Max clarified.
"All disengaged for visitors," Skunkape hastened to assure them. "My vast array of technology is free to all."
"Want a banana?" Trixie asked.
"Oh, so because I resemble a gorilla you assume I want a banana," Skunkape growled. "It's nice to see Earthlings are still so charmingly rustic."
Trixie wilted in on herself. "Trixie just thought...you might be hungry after your long trip...but Trixie already ate the rest of her lunch...and only had a banana left to offer." She sniffled.
"Yeah, General," Sam pointed out. "No need to go accusing a little filly of speciesism when she's just trying to be nice."
"Somebody's got a persecution complex!" Max pointed out.
Skunkape swallowed, feeling terribly guilty as Trixie started to whimper. "I'm terribly sorry, little one," he apologized. "I would love to have your banana."
"I got it recorded," Jane explained. "It has already been posted to every 'silly video' site on the net. It has made 50,000 hits."
Trixie smirked. "Gotcha!" she said, blowing Skunkape a raspberry.
The trio entered the spaceship to explore it, seeking answers regarding the violent vision of the future Max had given them from the Eyes of Yog-Soggoth. Well, Sam wanted answers. Max just wanted incredible psychic powers.
Reaching the upper level, however, they found the brain that had helped them in the vision...dead.
"Well, this is unexpected," Sam pointed out.
"But hardly inconvenient," Max countered. "Trixie! You can read minds because of the future vision, right? Read him!"
"Trixie will...try," Trixie offered. She focused on the brain, energizing her horn.
The eyes...the eyes...
Trixie shivered, letting go of her magic. "That's all Trixie can get."
"We'll figure it out in a bit," Sam suggested. "While you were reading the brain, a mole man went in for one of those 'vacations' Skunkape offers them, and apparently they're used as a fuel resource."
Trixie blinked up at him. "...and?"
"And we swiped the stuff he left behind!" Max said happily. "A hard hat and the ticket!"
Trixie thought about that for a bit, and something clicked in her head. "The Eyes of Yog-Soggoth!" she said suddenly. "The Future Sight! Use them on the brain!"
"That's right!" Sam said eagerly. "He was alive in the future vision, so we should be able to use a future vision of him to figure out how to revive him!"
Grinning, Max turned the Future Sight on the brain.
"You did it Sam, Max, and Trixie!" the brain congratulated them. "You awakened me from from the sleep of one hundred deaths! How did you do it?"
"Well, that's encouraging," Sam commented dryly.
"Uncle Sam comes up with solutions!" Trixie pointed out. "Maybe the vision can be extended by focusing on him?"
Shrugging, Max gave it a try.
"You did it Sam, Max, and Trixie!" the brain congratulated them...again. "You awakened me from from the sleep of one hundred deaths! How did you do it?"
"Easy-Peasy!" Sam proclaimed. "All it took was Stinky's Demon Broth and Momma Bosco's futuristic power core!"
"Well, we heard me!" Sam stated. "We've gotta find some demon broth and Momma Bosco's futuristic power core!"
"Then first stop should be talking to Stinky?" Trixie suggested.
"Great idea!" Max proclaimed.
Inside Stinky's, the trio saw Flint Paper sitting at the table eating getting ready to eat some spaghetti. "Trixie will talk to old Stinky about the Demon Broth!" Trixie proclaimed. "Uncle Sam, Daddy, you see if Flint knows anything!"
"Hang on a minute," Sam interrupted. "How come you're sending us off to another corner of the restaurant while you do the exciting stuff?"
"Duh, Sam!" Max pointed out. "Trixie's adorable wiles work better without excess baggage."
"Fair point," Sam admitted. "Though I don't like being called baggage."
Smiling, Trixie approached Grandpa Stinky. "Have you got any Demon Broth?" she asked cutely.
"Ay, that I do," Stinky growled. "But ya can't have any!"
"Please?" Trixie pleaded.
"Nay!" Stinky growled back. "I won't be letting ya steal my recipe!"
"Pwease?" Trixie begged, exaggerating her adorability.
"Nay! Your cuteness won't be workin' on me at all!"
Trixie paused. Her cuteness had never failed to break someone. She thought about Stinky for a time, trying to get a read on him.
"I got no use fer cuteness. You gotta show some backbone if you wanna impress me."
Trixie blinked, realizing she'd accidentally read Stinky's mind. Grinning, she pulled her gun out of her hat and put it to Stinky's crotch, pulling the hammer back. "Please?" she asked again, her magic glow visible around the trigger.
Stinky laughed uproariously. "That's more like it, lil' lady!" he proclaimed, grabbing the bottle off the counter and stuffing it in Trixie's hat. "That's how you ask for somethin'!"
"Trixie will remember that!" Trixie said happily.
Sam and Max rejoined her on their way out of the diner. "Any luck on the demon broth?" they asked.
"Got it!" Trixie said proudly. "How'd it go with Flint Paper?"
"We saved him from a peanut allergy attack and a tomahawk to the back of the head," Max said happily.
"And found out that Stinky might actually not be Stinky's granddaughter, and possibly plotting with Skunkape," Sam added.
"So...nothing important?" Trixie asked.
"Not really, no," Max replied.
"So now we should go ask the ghost of Momma Bosco about the futuristic power core!" Sam proclaimed happily.
Momma Bosco's new lab was dark, spooky, and high tech. While Sam and Max spoke with Harry Moleman - presumably to set up Harry's involvement in the future vision - Trixie approached Momma Bosco. "Hi Momma Bosco!" she said happily, getting close enough to the ghost's high perch to speak with her. "Remember the Great and Powerful Trixie?"
"Oh, the little time travelling unicorn!" Momma Bosco said happily, warping down to be closer to Trixie. "What brings you here?"
"We had a mystic artifact generated future vision involving using Demon Broth and your futuristic power core to resurrect a brain in a jar," Trixie replied easily. "Have you got one?"
Momma Bosco chuckled. "It's never a dull case for you three, is it? Time travel, Hell raising, and now mystical artifacts using visions of the future to figure out how to make the visions come true...you do have exciting times, don't you?"
"And that's just on the job!" Trixie proclaimed happily.
"What sort of mystic artifact?" Momma Bosco asked. "Maybe I can figure out how it works, and give you more advice."
"The alien gorilla called them the Eyes of Yog-Soggoth," Trixie explained.
"Wait...you mean its one of the toys from the Devil's Toybox?" Momma Bosco asked in surprise.
"...the what now?" Trixie asked in confusion.
"After your time travel visit, I studied everything I could on ancient myths and legends on the off chance you might be involved in them," she replied. "The Devil's Toybox is a rather dangerous artifact, as are all the toys involved with it. Just...how involved are you three with them?"
"Well...Daddy goes all lightningy whenever he touches one," Trixie explained. "And the Eyes gave us all a future vision where Trixie got spells based on all the toys we encountered...and Trixie still had the spells back in the present, though not as strong as the toys."
Momma Bosco frowned. "Trixie...you need to be careful with those toys...and especially the spells you get from them. Their powers are not of this world. They come from the Elder Gods."
Trixie nodded. "Trixie promises to be careful. Now...about the futuristic power battery?"
"Stolen from my lab last night," Momma Bosco replied. "Sorry I can't help." She frowned. "You know...that General didn't seem so bad on the News...but if he's after the Toys, maybe I'd better reconsider."
"I have the sudden urge to mention a time stream alteration," Jane piped up.
Trixie blinked. "Mommy, can you detect the energy wavelengths given off by the futuristic power core if Momma Bosco gives you the specs on them?"
"Indeed I could," Jane replied. "...it appears to be in the sewer passage beneath Straight and Narrow, directly below a secret passage in Stinky's Diner."
"So...the best way to get to it would be to have Daddy throw Trixie across to it, use the substitution spell to switch places with Daddy, and have Daddy break physics the way he normally does to follow us back up out of the sewers?" Trixie asked.
"I would recommend having Sam throw you, as he has longer arms, but otherwise yes," Jane replied.
"I could really use that power core back..." Momma Bosco began. "But...I suppose I can let you use it. Saving the world from alien invasion targeting dangerous artifacts and all that."
"Thanks Momma Bosco!" Trixie said happily, turning to go tell Sam and Max where to go for the power core.
After successfully recovering the futuristic power core - along with a scanner wearing a 'Carol' nametag which they left with the C.O.P.S. in the Desoto, backing away quickly when 'Curt' the speak and say and 'Chippy' the beeper started flirting - they used the demon broth and the power core - along with jumper cables from the Desoto - to resurrect the brain.
"You did it Sam, Max, and Trixie!" the brain began. "You have-"
"We already saw this part through the Eyes," Trixie complained. "Can we skip it?"
"It's not wise to play with the laws of causality so freely," the brain chided, "but I suppose this once can't hurt too much. ...though I'm not sure how you could see the vision when it didn't happen-"
"Quantum Uncertainty and multiverse theorem," Jane explained. "They witnessed the future that would have happened eventually if they hadn't seen it. They'd have figured out how to resurrect you eventually on their own."
"How?" the brain demanded.
"Probably by asking me," Jane replied. "I'm the internet, after all. If all else failed, I would have attempted hacking Skunkape's computer records aboard ship."
"That would not have been wise," the brain replied. "The security-"
"Has no defense against magic in the circuitry, which I have developed ways to synthesize in small amounts."
The brain was quiet for a time. "Perhaps you four can stop General Skun-ka'pe after all. He is...he is...oh...something's happening."
The brain began to shudder, and the machinery began to flash. "Toys detected," a computerized voice stated. "Toys detected."
"What are you doing, brain?" Sam demanded. "Cut it out!"
"I can't help it!" the brain replied. "I'm..." He shuddered again, and his voice changed. "Oooommmmmm... Yog-Soggoth nagul oram! Yog-Soggoth nogul oram!"
Skunkape suddenly burst in. "Gordon's alive?" he demanded in surprise and apparent anger. "I mean," he added, quickly changing his tone of voice, "what a pleasant surprise! Tell me friend brain, where is the toy?"
"Two...toys..." Gordon began. "...too weak...can't trace..." He groaned weakly.
"Curses!" Skun-ka'pe proclaimed. "Very well," he growled. "I'll find them myself."
As he left, Gordon became more active. "Is he gone?"
"Yeah, the coast is clear," Sam explained. "What just happened?"
"I don't know," Gordon admitted. "I've never felt anything like that. The toys of this planet must have astonishing power!"
As the three discussed the one toy inside the ship - the phone teleporter - Trixie's eyes widened as realization hit her. "Gordon," she asked, "do...do these toys use extra-dimensional energy?"
"Why, yes," Gordon admitted while Sam and Max retrieved the tele-phone. "How did you know?"
"Because a month ago, Satan gave Trixie a spell that detects concentrations of extra-dimensional energy, saying it was a spell Trixie would need."
Gordon gasped out. "If you can bring me a map, I can combine my energies with those of your spell and give you the exact location of the toys, marking them on your map so you can retrieve them before Skun-ka'pe does!"
"I believe I have one of those with me," Agent Superball said suddenly, coming up behind them.
While Sam and Max were surprised and started asking questions, Trixie focused on getting the locations of two toys in the city via Gordon, her tracking spell, and the map.
"Oh dear," Gordon commented after the spell, as Sam, Max, and Superball discussed things such as the Penal Zone and various other information. "There's something on this planet far more dangerous than the toys...something you can not let Skun-ka'pe find."
"We'll do our best!" Trixie proclaimed.
"Alright," Sam said, having finished questioning Superball. "We need to talk to Momma Bosco about opening the Penal Zone portal, and find Skun-ka'pe's prisoner badge."
"And get these two toys!" Trixie proclaimed, holding up the city map with the toy locations marked.
"Right," Sam agreed. "Let's go!"
As per Gordon's request, Max demonstrated the teleportation power. While passing through, Sam opened his eyes and witnessed a horrifying overflow of images. However, mixed in with the horror...were a surprising number of images of Trixie. And Trixie herself seemed to be surrounded by a protective halo. "As interesting as this is," Sam murmured, "I'm going to keep my eyes shut from now on when we do this."
When the trio arrived at Momma Bosco's, Sam was immediately grabbed by one of Skunkape's gorillas...who promptly found himself and his partner hanging from distant flagpoles by their shorts.
"What just happened?" Sam asked.
"They spooked Trixie," Trixie pointed out, rubbing her horn as the sparks faded.
"Thanks for getting rid of those Gorillas, Trixie," Momma Bosco said happily.
"Can you build us a remote control for a gateway to the Penal Zone?" Trixie asked cutely.
"Already have a remote control for the dimensional destabilizer," Momma Bosco replied. "I suppose reversing the polarity to go out instead of in should do it."
Smiling, Sam pocketed the remote control.
"It'll only stay open a few minutes, though," Momma Bosco warned. "Anyone holding something tuned to the selected dimension will get sucked right in."
Trixie examined the remote with her magic, and her horn sparked. A strange looking badge appeared. "Ouch!" she complained as Max caught it.
"What's this?" he asked, holding it up.
"According to my scanners, it's attuned to the Penal Zone," Momma Bosco pointed out. "If I'd had to guess, that extra-dimensional energy tracking spell combined with the energy of the dimensional destabilizer to drag anything attuned to the Penal Zone to you."
"Convenient!" Sam said, happily pocketing the Prisoner's Badge.
"Now all that's left is finding those wonderful toys!" Max cackled happily.
Eventually, their quest for the toys led to a toy store. However, Trixie had grown dizzy from excessive magic use by that point, and they proved defenseless as Skunkape tracked them down and captured them.
When Trixie awakened, they found themselves back in the original vision of the future, locked up in SKunkape's ship.
"Alright," Sam said. "We know how to beat this."
"But things are different!" Trixie pointed out. "Girl Stinky's locked up!"
Sam checked his inventory. "And I don't have the remote control!"
"We'll worry about that later!" Max proclaimed. "Let's just get the prisoner badge on Skunkape!"
"How do we get out?" Sam asked. "Before, we got out by using the teleportation power with Stinky's cell phone, but-"
There was a sudden screech of twisted metal as the bars of the cage warped in a power blue aura, until the path was wide open.
Trixie blinked up at Sam. "Trixie...is hungry."
Grinning, Sam and Max both stepped out. The trio then turned and discovered that the noise had made 'sneaking up' on Skunkape impossible.
"You didn't really think you'd be able to sneak after making such a racket, did you?" Skunkape demanded. "Or complete your previous vision without these?" He then held up the Eyes of Yog-Soggoth, the rhinoplasty, and the deck of cards.
"Whoops," Sam muttered.
"Uncle Sam," Trixie whispered. "Pull out the beacon, and drop it at my signal."
Confused, Sam did so as Skunkape went into his victory rant.
Grinning widely, Skunkape began pushing buttons on his bridge.
The instant the Penal Zone portal began to open, Trixie shouted, "Now!"
Sam dropped the badge, and Trixie cast two quick spells. The first disconnected the anti-matter bomb from Max's back. The second was the substitution spell she'd demanded Satan teach her. As it happened, Skunkape's mass exactly equaled the combined mass of the trio.
"What the-?" Skunkape demanded.
Anything further was cut off as the beacon - weighed down by the anti-matter bomb - attached to Skunkape from the suction force of the portal, dragging him into the Penal Zone.
"Success!" Sam proclaimed. "Nice fast thinking, Trixie!"
Trixie smiled proudly. "But of course! What else did you expect from the Great and Powerful-"
"So, do any of us know how to fly a spaceship?" Max asked.
Unfortunately, none of them actually knew how to fly a spaceship, and as a result crashed into their apartment building. After the crash, they dug through the rubble to see what they could salvage. Unfortunately, the only thing in the place that was undamaged was The Right Honorable Major Judge Ursa. Trixie was happy about that, although it didn't do much for Sam and Max's goal of finding somewhere they could sleep.
"So, now what do we do?" Max asked. "I didn't see any comfortable beds in the spaceship."
"Wouldn't help anyway if we did," Sam added. "It's on its side and the artificial gravity cut out."
"There appear to be large caverns under the building," Jane pointed out. "Perhaps the molemen can spare a few bunks until the building is righted."
"How are we going to get across the river to them?" Sam asked. "I could throw Max and Trixie, but I don't think I can throw myself-"
"There is a ladder nearby," Jane explained. "You can use it as a bridge."
"Alright!" Trixie said happily. "Let's go! Trixie is hungry and needs a nap!"
Upon entering the tunnel, both proved readily available. Only two molemen were present, both apparently members of some cult that worshiped - amongst other things - a prophecy about Max, Trixie herself, and a Toybox that made Trixie's horn ache just to be near it. They were happy to provide food and beds for Trixie...and Sam and Max by extension.
Trixie was happy to curl up with food under her cape and hat on the comfortable mats that the molemen provided, but Sam and Max were distracted by skeletons that looked like them, along with a movie projector that gave off eldritch energy. Sam decided to play the movie. After Max tried to fix the volume, his aura interacted with the demonic energy of the projector, and the movie suddenly had sound...and Sam and Max were able to influence the actions of their ancestors, Sameth and Maximus, within the film.
However, as there was no analogue for herself to influence, Trixie decided to take a nap after eating. Curling up to Major Ursa under her cape, she slept.
Unfortunately, she did not fully escape the influence of the aura of the projector. As she slipped into her dreams, memories long suppressed and thought lost rose to the surface, revealing a pain long forgotten.
Trixie wriggled about in the basket, crying and whining. It was too cold. She wanted to be held.
A stallion's hooves reached in, lifting her from the basket. "Hello, little Trixie," he whispered. "How's my baby girl doing?"
Trixie's upset calmed, and she cuddled into the embrace as the stallion nuzzled her. A mare in a white coat approached, addressing the stallion. However, Trixie couldn't hear what the mare said.
"How is she?" the stallion asked.
"I'm sorry..." The mare addressed the stallion by name, but Trixie couldn't quite hear. "The labor was...she didn't..." Trixie couldn't make sense of what was being said, but she felt the stallion sag around her, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
He held her close, tears pouring from his eyes. As the tears landed on her face, Trixie began crying again.
...
Trixie played with some of her toys as she waited for her Daddy. He'd gone out for something or other, she wasn't sure what. However, she was eager for his return.
As the door opened, she gasped happily as she rushed forward. "Daddy!" she called happily, throwing herself at the stallion from the first memory, who embraced her happily. However, she paused as she stared at the young mare beside him.
"Hello, Trixie," the mare said softly.
"Who dat?" Trixie demanded.
Her Daddy chuckled. "This is..." Another name that didn't quite register. "She'll be staying with us for a while, helping me take care of you."
Trixie wasn't entirely sure she liked the mare, but she listened to Daddy.
...
Trixie was dressed up in a cute little white gown. She wasn't sure what was going on, but her Daddy was dressed in black, the mare from before was dressed in white, and there were lots of grown up ponies around. Some ponies told her that the mare was going to be her Mom now, but she couldn't make sense of that.
After a much older stallion said some words, there was cheering. Rice flew through the air. Trixie remained confused.
...
They wouldn't let her near her Daddy. She didn't understand why. She also wasn't going to listen. With her first intentional use of magic, she distracted several of the adult ponies with sparklers like fireworks and rushed in.
There was her Daddy, laying back in bed looking tired, like he was going to sleep. He was holding the mare's hoof as he coughed weakly. "Please...take care of my Trixie..." he whispered, and then faded away.
She walked up to her Daddy and nuzzled him, but he didn't move. "Daddy?" she asked. When the mare started to pull her away, she demanded, "Why won't Daddy wake up?"
...
Not two days after the funeral, Trixie was in the orphanage, and the mare her Daddy had entrusted her to had run off with everything that she had once had. All she had left was her bear, Major Ursa...a birthday gift from her father.
The other foals didn't like her. She was the only unicorn there, all the others were earth ponies. She was an outsider. She was different. ...she was alone.
"Please...take care of my Trixie..."
...but she didn't.
She was staring at her Daddy as he died again, begging the one beside him to take care of her. But it wasn't a stallion clutching a mare's hoof now. The image had changed...a dying lagomorph, clutching a dog's paw.
"Please...take care of my Trixie..."
"I promise, little buddy..."
Trixie awoke, her eyes full of tears. The movie had ended, and Sam was nowhere to be seen. However, her Daddy was lying nearby. She crawled over to him. "Daddy, Trixie needs a hug," she whimpered, nuzzling his side.
He fell over, unmoving.
Trixie blinked. "Daddy? Why are you napping?" Confused, she crawled over, nuzzling his fuzzy belly and paws, trying to get him to hug her or pet her, but he didn't respond. "Daddy?"
Sam stepped in. "Did Max watch the end of the movie without me?" he demanded. "Well, can you both at least tell me how it ended?" He paused, noticing Trixie's distress.
She looked up at him, her gaze agonized. "Why...why won't Daddy wake up?" she begged, the void in Max's cut open skull giving Sam the answer he couldn't bear to tell her.
Sam stared down at the crying filly and the limp body of his best buddy for a time, his mind working slowly. Despair clawed at his mind, struggling to drag him down into the abyss. But he couldn't let himself be dragged in, not now, not yet. Trixie. He had to take care of her now. So long as she was crying, his mind was a sea of guilt and fury. He had to comfort her, find a way to cage the raging beast awakening inside him.
Leaning down, he gently wrapped Trixie and Max's body up in his jacket. "It's going to be okay, Trixie," he promised. "Someone just...stole Max's brain. Like when Hugh Bliss separated his bliss. We're just going to find his stolen brain and get it back. Then everything will be good as new." Taking his hat off, he put it over the hole in Max's head.
Trixie looked up at him, sniffling. "You...you really think so?"
"I know so," Sam promised as he rolled up his sleeves. "You just stay here for now, okay? I'm going to see if the molemen know anything."
Trixie nodded, cuddling up to Max's still warm body.
Sam slowly stepped back, but then paused. Reaching down to his belt, he pulled off his Freelance Police badge. "Hold onto this," he told Trixie. "It'll keep you safe while I get the information we need."
Trixie nodded. "O-okay..."
Nodding, Sam turned, stalking out of the room to confront the molemen.
As Sam approached the molemen, he could hear Flint Paper's voice from his memories, teaching him how to be more aggressive in interrogating people, the proper noir detective technique. However, he pushed it aside as inefficient. If it were just him hurting over what happened to Max, he'd be fine with taking his time to get the right answers. But every moment wasted was more trauma to Trixie's fragile psyche. He would not allow it.
"Who stole Max's brain!" he growled angrily at the two molemen.
"We don't know anything!" the first quavered.
"Y-yeah, n-nothing!" the second spoke up.
Sam could tell the second one knew something. Grabbing the first, he flung him across the room. "Talk!" he bellowed.
"It was the space gorilla!" the moleman replied quickly. "He was talking to somebody else about the toybox while I heard the sound of a brain being removed! I stayed silent out of fear! Please don't hurt me!"
Sam's growl deepened. "Don't...tempt me."
Turning, he brought his rage back under control so no sign of it would appear to Trixie as he carefully lifted the little filly and his limp partner, carrying them out to the Desoto.
Laying Trixie and Max down gently, Sam hopped into the driver's seat, taking off down the road. While he wanted to go after Skunkape immediately, he apparently had a partner of some sort, and he could already see that the ship was still non-functional. As a result, he had no idea where to look. He'd have to look around for the usual suspects for answers, and hope one of them had a clue for him.
As he drove, however, he found one of Skunkape's space gorillas spinning a sign. Pulling over, Sam confronted him angrily. "Where's Skunkape!" he demanded angrily.
"I don't know anything-" the gorilla began.
Sam grabbed the sign the gorilla dropped when he confronted him. "You're going to tell me everything you know or I'm going to shove this sign so far up your ass you're going to have to open your mouth to spin it!"
The gorilla's eyes widened. "I don't even want to know how that'll work! I'll talk! I'll talk!"
"Good!" Sam snarled. "Every right answer is a foot less this goes up your intestinal tract!"
"I saw General Skun-ka'pe and a man wearing a fez walking down the street, grumbling about you!" the gorilla said quickly. "I didn't hear what they were saying, but the fez wearing man said something about counter-magical fields and a vendetta against the bunny. Oh, and something about Skun-ka'pe owing him for freeing him before the Penal Zone exploded. At least, I think he meant owing him. He said he owed Norrington, but maybe he was talking in third person? I hear that's in vogue recently because of some pony or other." Seeing the surge of fury in Sam's eyes, he sped up his recital of facts. "The man was levitating a toybox, and the General was carrying a brain in a jar similar to how he stored Gordon's brain aboard ship. Oh, and the General dropped this." He held out the rinoplasty.
Sam growled. "And what do you intend to do with it?" he demanded aggressively, hefting the sign.
The gorilla swallowed. "Umm...give it to you so you don't perform a colonoscopy on me with a sign board?" he asked.
"Good answer," Sam growled, out, swapping the sign for the rinoplasty. "Was anyone else there?"
"I only saw Frankie the Rat and some tourist," the gorilla admitted.
Nodding, Sam got back in the Desoto, driving off.
"What'd you find out?" Trixie asked.
Sam smoothed his features, suppressing the rage so he didn't upset Trixie with his expression or voice. "Skunkape took Max's brain, and he's working with a magic user. They have the Devil's Toybox, which is the source of power for all these toys we've been seeing. Also, Max's brain is being preserved the same way Gordon was, so all we should have to do is stick his brain back in his body and he'll be fine."
"So...would the toybox be the source of a massive trans-dimensional energy surge, like the toys times a hundred, if it were active?" Trixie asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
"And Daddy's brain is with the Toybox?"
"Signs point to yes."
"Setting your GPS for the Museum of Mostly Natural History," Jane explained.
"Huh?"
"While you were interrogating suspects and driving around aimlessly, Trixie felt the surge of energies from her spell for that," Jane explained. "I have been triangulating the source of the energy based on the vectors at each location she pinged the box. The box is located at the Museum of Mostly Natural History."
"Then that's where we're going to go," Sam said firmly. "See, Trixie? I told you it would work out!"
"And once we are in range," Jane explained, "you will be able to use the cards spell to communicate with Max telepathically."
Trixie smiled as they headed for the Museum. "...Daddy..."
As Sam and Trixie reached the museum, Trixie focused her mind on the spell Jane suggested. ...Daddy? she called with her mind.
Instantly, she felt the touch of his mind. Trixie? Since when can you do psychic communication? I thought the card trick only allowed mind reading?
Trixie smiled widely. Daddy! she thought happily. Since we both have the Card spell - although you can't do it without the actual cards - we can read each others' minds. What's happening to you? Are you alright?
Max was quiet for a time. Well...I don't completely understand what's going on, but Skunkape and that Papierwaite guy from the film we watched - who's still around somehow - have hooked my brain up to some sort of magitek device that's summoning all the Toys to the Devil's Toybox.
That's...not good, is it? Trixie asked.
Honestly? No clue. Pretty sure we don't want either of them to have access to all those toys.
Trixie thought for a time. They're working together to make the machine work, right?
Yeah. Why? Max paused as his mind raced along the same thoughts Trixie's had. I getcha! You want me to figure out how we can split up their alliance, and then we work to make that happen, giving us a chance to get my brain and the Toybox away from them!
Exactly! Trixie crowed happily. We're good at driving people crazy. Trixie has to go now, though. A giant cockroach is trying to get rid of your body.
Opening her eyes, Trixie saw that in addition to the giant cockroach security guard that Sam was trying to talk out of getting rid of Max's body, there were also several space gorilla minions wandering about the museum. Trixie also heard the cockroach - named Sal - talking about throwing Max's body into the incinerator.
"You can't!" Trixie complained. "It's not Daddy's fault your boss stole his brain! But we need to have his body here to get his brain back in!"
"Whoa, you're going up against my boss?" Sal asked surprised. "Well, can't say I didn't expect this job to go south with all the freaky...stuff...going on here." It was plain he had corrected himself due to the presence of a minor. "Still, I have to play by the rules unless and until the job does go south, and that means if your father over there isn't up and moving in the next few minutes, I have to toss him in the incinerator."
Trixie thought for a time. "Trixie doesn't suppose using her telekinesis to puppet Daddy's body in a macabre parody of life counts?" she asked curiously.
Sal shook his head. "Nah, wouldn't count. But I'd pay you five bucks to see it."
"Trixie has no need for money," she replied, "but she will keep the idea in mind for future shows. ...are there any spare brains around the museum? One we could stick in him to get him moving to meet the letter of the rule, if not the spirit?"
"Try the Egyptian exhibit," Sal replied. "They preserved brains when they mummified people. Just don't break anything."
Nodding, Trixie headed for the Egyptian exhibit on the left side of the museum. Seeing a jar labeled The Pharaoh's Brain, she focused her telekinesis to reach into the jar. She then carefully lifted the brain out of it and stuck it in her hat before turning to run back to Sam, who was still questioning Sal.
"Uncle Sam!" she said eagerly. "I've got a spare brain for Daddy's body!"
"Alright then," Sam replied. "Let's get Max's body back on his feet."
Going over to Sam's limp body, Trixie slipped the brain into the empty cavity of his skull. Sam then closed the top down. "Anybody in there?" he called when there was so sign of activity.
The body slowly began to rise to its feet as a strange voice could be heard issuing from the mouth. "Oooo...Eeee...torments of Osiris shall be laid upon your feet, heretics! The wrath of-Ack! Anubis!" The brain behind Max's eyes stared at Sam nervously.
"Nah, but I get that a lot," Sam replied. "I'm Sam."
"Oh, a new body!" the voice said, glancing over Max's frame carefully. "And it's so...energetic!" He began to bounce up and down.
"That's probably one of Max's sugar rushes," Sam explained. "You'll want to ride those out until you get used to them."
"I suppose you want some tedious boon in return for rescuing our spirit from the shadowy realms, yes?" the voice asked in resignation.
Trixie stomped right up to the spirit in her father's body. "That's Daddy's body," she growled. "Stupid space monkey stole his brain. You're gonna help us get it back."
The spirit frowned. "And if I don't?"
Trixie lowered her ears against her skull. "Then Trixie will cry...and she will follow you wherever you go, crying, and tell everyone she is crying because you were mean and stole my Daddy's body...and imply you did inappropriate things to Trixie using said body, involving various things that Trixie doesn't fully understand yet but will make everyone you meet nauseous just to be in your presence."
The spirit stared at Trixie for a time, and then laughed. "We like you, tiny unicorn named Trixie! We are Sammun-mak, and we shall happily retrieve your father's brain! However...what shall happen to our brain afterwards?"
"Trixie will stick you inside a spaceship, giving you the power to traverse the cosmos," Trixie offered.
"That would be most gratifying!" Sammun-mak proclaimed. "Very well! We shall begin! This task will be quite easy, what with all these Toys of the Gods secreted throughout this furry body." He pulled out the Teleporter phone and the Eyes of Yog-Soggoth.
"So you have super psychic powers using the toys like Daddy and Trixie?" Trixie asked.
"Indeed," Sammun-mak replied. "Though we are surprised to find two others who share the ability. Though not that one is a unicorn. They are a powerfully magical race, after all."
Trixie? Max called. I've got some info for you on how to mess up Skunkape and Papierwaite's alliance.
Daddy! Trixie called silently back. Tell us!
We had no idea different users of this power could communicate telepathically! Sammun-mak spoke up. How wondrous!
Who's that? Max asked in confusion.
Your latest renter, Daddy, Trixie said quickly. What are the details?
Well, Skunkape really doesn't like the idea of the cockroach getting near his minions, and Papierwaite is terrified of anything happening to his Yog-Soggoth tapestry or the space apes hurting said employee.
Got it! Trixie has a plan. Grinning widely, Trixie levitated the nearest space gorilla and hurled him at the tapestry in question.
The gorilla screamed in terror and confusion, catching hold of the tapestry as he landed on it, tearing it apart as he fell down it.
"Hey!" Sal shouted angrily, rushing forward. "Stay away from the exhibits!" The cockroach and space gorilla promptly began to brawl.
Daddy! Trixie called telepathically. Get Papierwaite and Skunkape to check the security cameras!
Shortly thereafter, there was the sound of intense fighting from the planetarium, where Skunkape and Papierwaite were doing their work. Sam grinned. "Nice work," he said, leading the way up there.
Once in the planetarium, Sam and Trixie made their way quietly to Max's brain. However, Sammun-mak made his way to the Devil's Toybox. As he touched it, Trixie staggered from the intense force of extra-dimensional psychic energy. And she wasn't the only one, as Skunkape and Papierwaite also were forced to their knees.
"By the hammer of Ptah, the hairballs of Bastet, and the hangnails of Anubis," Sammun-Mak said ritualistically as he floated above the Toybox, "reality itself will kneel before Sammun-Mak!"
"Is this bad?" Trixie whimpered, clutching her head.
"Ya think?" Sam and Max said simultaneously.
A sphere of blazing light expanded, consuming all before it.
As the light faded, Trixie became aware of Sam's voice. "And so ends another mind boggling mystery solved by the loping wits and capriciously applied violence of the Freelance Police! Who's up for a Sugar Grenade?"
Trixie was soon able to see her surroundings. She and Sam were standing beside the Desoto outside their apartment. At least, it looked like they were...except for all the sand everywhere. "Trixie is up for answers. What just happened?"
"That's what I want to know!" Max demanded. "I'm still a brain in a jar!"
The jar Max's brain was in was strapped to Sam's back. "Don't be silly Max," Sam commented nervously. "You've always been a brain in a jar."
"No I haven't!" Max complained. "I'm a short, sexy lagomorph with an enormous mouth and dead shark-like eyes!"
"Hold that thought little buddy," Sam interrupted. "We've got some idolizing to do."
"Say what?" Max demanded as Sam - along with many other people nearby - knelt before a massive statue of Max...or at least, as Trixie quickly put together, of Max's body.
"Sammunmak is handsome!" a robotic pharaoh statue reminiscent of a drive thru face proclaimed. "Sammunmak is cute!"
All the people kneeling stood up. "When we think of Sammunmak we give a big salute!" they proclaimed together, saluting.
Trixie blinked. "Did we somehow end up in some alternate reality? Or was Sammunmak serious when he talked about reality kneeling before him?"
"You know, that would actually explain this," Max allowed.
"Attention everyone!" Sammunmak's voice proclaimed from the speaker. "From this point forward, those little things at the end of your shoe laces, ag...lets? Yes! Aglets are hereby decreed to be the most horrible things in all the world!"
"It's a good thing I don't wear shoes," Sam commented.
After a time, Max and Trixie heard a voice from the heavens. "Max, beware!"
"Who said that?" Max asked.
"Who said what?" Sam inquired in confusion.
"That was a psychic voice, Daddy," Trixie pointed out.
"Oh yeah! Forgot that was possible!" Max said.
Oh, the pony can hear me too... the voice said. Well, at least she has hooves and telekinesis. Maybe that will help fix the world...
So The Great and Powerful Trixie and her Daddy are going to undo what Sammun-Mak did with the Toybox? Trixie asked telepathically, emphasizing her name petulantly.
Indeed, the voice replied. You must-
Do nothing until we know who we're talking to, Max countered.
...you may call me Dr. Norrington, the voice replied. Make contact with the rebels. They will give you the-
Wouldn't it be easier for Trixie to just make contact with the Toybox and wrest control of it from Sammun-Mak in a battle of psychic and magical will?
...that would be incredibly reckless, idiotic, and dangerous, and risk the very fabric of creation, Norrington pointed out.
Sounds like a plan! Max said eagerly.
...and make...puppies and kitties rain from the sky? Norrington suggested hesitantly.
Trixie loves kitties and puppies! Trixie proclaimed.
...and go splat on the pavement.
I love it when they do that! Max replied.
...between the two of you, there's no way for me to convince you not to try this, is there? Norrington asked.
Nope! Max and Trixie replied together.
Norrington was silent for a time. May the gods help us all, he said finally before his presence faded from their minds.
So...where do you think the Toybox is? Max asked silently.
Well, if Trixie had done something like this, she'd keep it as close as physically possible without risking a continuous reality rewrite based on stray thoughts, Trixie replied, so...probably in the throne room in the royal presence.
Nice thought, Max agreed. He then switched back to spoken communication. "Hey Sam? How do we get into Sammun-Mak's presence?"
"Only those who've earned the three Accessories of Privilege," Sam explained. "I know Grandpa Stinky has the Medallion of Tithing...but I'm not sure of anyone who has the others: the Pendant of Inquisition and the Ornament of Fealty."
Trixie thought for a time. "...Mommy?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes, Trixie?" Jane replied, though her voice was scratchy.
"Mommy?" Sam asked in confusion.
"Mommy, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I don't exist in this altered world," Jane replied. "However, your magical aura prevented the alterations from erasing your goggles, so I can still communicate with you - and the local information networks - through them. Though just barely..."
Trixie thought quickly. "Can you get an image of the three Accesories we need to get into Sammun-Mak's presence?"
Jane was quiet for a time. "...I have one...it's a snapshot of someone who bears all three...but what will you do with it?"
Trixie raced over to the Desoto, where the C.O.P.S. were still there. "Can any of you print stuff?" she asked.
The scanner beeped quietly.
"...I see what you're doing..." Jane began.
After a time, the image printed.
"I've reached...the limit...of my influence... ... ..." Jane's voice trailed off into static.
"...thanks Mom." Focusing her magic, Trixie fired up her spell to detect extra dimensional energy. Finding a source, she closed her eyes tight and concentrated, trying to grab hold of the source. Trixie hopes this works... she thought silently.
With a pop, the rhinoplasty appeared in front of her as her magic sputtered. "That was...hard," she breathed, applying the rhinoplasty to the image of the three accesories.
"You okay there, Trixie?" Max asked. "It sounds like you're overdoing it again."
"Like that's anything new," Trixie mumbled as she dropped the rhinoplasty into the jar. "Now turn into the medals."
Max quickly used the rhinoplasty to do so. "Now what-"
"Now you be quiet," Trixie hissed, sticking the Max-medals to Sam's tie.
"Wow!" Sam proclaimed excitedly. "I didn't know I'd acquired the medals of honor! I can't wait to go meet with the great Sammun-Mak. We should head there immediately!"
Thank you for being so gullible, Uncle, Trixie thought silently as they hopped into the Desoto.
At the museum - which had been converted into a royal palace - Papierwaite stopped them as they tried to approach the throne. "Stop! Who dares trespass into the inner circle of Lord High Sammun-Mak?"
"I dare, Grand Vizier Pepperpot!" Sam proclaimed.
"And we've got the Accessories to prove it!" Trixie proclaimed.
The once museum curator frowned. "Those accessories allow only one to enter! The filly must remain here!"
"But I'm responsible for her!" Sam pointed out. "I can't leave her to wander around willy-nilly!"
'Pepperpot' grunted. "We shall consult his Holiness, then," he replied. He turned and led them towards the throne.
Sammun-Mak - in Max's body - sat upon a golden throne with the Toybox right next to him, close enough that he could touch it easily. "Who dares approach us during our entertainment?" he demanded.
"Forgive us, oh Holy One," 'Pepperpot' replied. "Sam here has obtained the three Accessories of Privelege and desires to bask in your presence, but is unwilling to leave the filly unattended."
Sammun-Mak turned to observe them for a time, then grinned. "A simple solution presents itself!" Using his telekinetic powers, he jerked Trixie into his lap. "The filly may remain! Sam must now seek out his own new Accessories to be in our presence. He will remove himself immediately until he does so."
"B-but..." Sam began.
"Uncle Sam!" Trixie whimpered, shuddering. She did not like Sammun-Mak petting her.
Something inside Sam snapped. With a growl, he lunged forward. "Get your hands off my niece you son of a bitch!" he snarled. His fist pulled back and lunged around faster than anyone could react, punching Sammun-Mak right off his throne.
As Sammun-mak seized Sam in his psychic powers to protect himself, Trixie seized her opportunity. She leapt onto the Toybox. Runic symbols flared the same blue of Trixie's magical aura across its sides, expanding outward.
"Get off my Toybox!" Sammun-mak demanded, tossing Sam aside. "Only I may touch it!"
"You're forgetting your royal plural!" Max called as he turned back into a brain.
"You aren't the first to tear Daddy's body apart for his own ends," Trixie growled as the energies of the Toybox flooded her frame, surrounding her with a pure white aura that flared off of her, shining from her eyes and Cutie Mark, also telling her, Sam, and Max the proper name for the mark on her rear somehow. "And I'm going to tell you the same thing I did him..."
The energies of the Toybox erupted, and the very fabric of reality tore asunder.
"Give me back my Daddy!" she screamed in a voice that was both hers and not hers at the same time. Reality vanished in a blazing white.
When the light faded, Max was back in his body, Sam was shaking his head in confusion, nearly everyone else was unconscious, and Trixie was slumped over the Toybox, barely breathing.
"Trixie!" Sam and Max said worriedly, rushing up to her.
"Is she going to be okay?" Max asked as Sam picked her up.
Sam carefully examined her. "She doesn't look injured..." he said quietly. "But she's cold..."
"Magical exhaustion," Jane said from Trixie's VR goggles. "She pushed herself several standard deviations beyond her limits...again..."
"She'll be okay?" Max asked again.
"She just needs rest," Jane said. "That's all."
"And a safe place to rest in," Max pointed out. Seeing several dozen Sams wearing only boxers marching towards them from inside the museum, he exclaimed, "Which isn't here!"
Thinking quickly, Sam slipped Trixie into a pocket of his coat, placing her into his inventory. "Safe enough?"
"Sure! Let's get out of here!" Max proclaimed as they both made a run for it.
"Hush little pony, don't say a word Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird And if that mockingbird don't sing..."
Trixie slowly opened her eyes as she heard that song. "...Daddy...?" she asked, looking up.
Floating around her were three floating, not-quite-physical Max heads surrounded by flame. All three were singing the song to her as they slowly orbited her.
"So hush little Trixie, don't you cry As Daddy sings you a special lullaby."
Trixie let out a scream of absolute terror.
"Trixie!" Sam called out, rushing up to her. "You're awake! Thank goodness!"
"U-Uncle Sam?" Trixie asked as the floating Max heads moved away. "W-what's going on? What's wrong with Daddy? What's with the floating heads?" Glancing around, she saw she was in Mama Bosco's lab. Nearby was Paperwaite - a strange tentacled face on his chest - Agent Superball, and Mama Bosco, who was no longer a ghost.
"Well, long story short," Sam began, "we destroyed the Devil's Toybox, but Max wound up eating a partially formed Elder God corpse, which turned him into a Cthulic Maxzilla which is rampaging through the city, releasing spores that feed on dreams in the shape of flaming Max heads. And we're trying to figure out how to stop him, and hopefully change him back."
Trixie raised a hoof, her mouth hanging open. "That's...different..."
"I know," Sam replied. "As if the army of clones of me wasn't strange enough."
Trixie's eyes widened. "H-how long has Trixie been sleeping?"
"A little over a week," Sam told her. "We've been really worried about you."
A sudden roar echoed through the lab. "Is that Daddy?" Trixie asked in surprise, rushing to the window.
"Trixie, no!" Sam called.
But it was too late. Her jaw hung and her eyes widened and beaded as she beheld the creature Max had become, a creature that defied description.
"D-d-d...Daddy?" she whimpered as she fell back on her rump. Falling forward, she began to sob quietly, her body shaking as tears fell freely.
Sam walked over to her, pulling her into his lap. "It's going to be okay, Trixie," he began softly.
"No it won't!" Trixie wailed, burying her face in Sam's chest. "D-daddy's gone! J-just like before! And without D-Daddy...I'm gonna lose everything all over again! You won't keep me..." Her voice chocked as she sniffled. "Mommy won't keep me...I'm gonna be all alone again and no one will love me!" Her tears began staining Sam's chest.
Sam shuddered internally. He'd been piecing together the bits and pieces Trixie had said, awake or asleep, ever since Sybil first tried to analyze her dream, bits and pieces that painted a rather grim picture of Trixie's life before she'd come to the Freelance Police. A lifetime of loneliness, abandonment, rejection... He pulled her into a tight hug. "I'll never let you go, Trixie," he promised. "By the Freelance Oath, I will care for you forever, even if...even if Max can't." He choked on the end, not really willing to consider the possibility that Max couldn't be saved.
"Freelance Oath?' Trixie asked, confused.
"Oh, we haven't taught you about that, have we?" Sam asked. "It's a promise Max and I made up between each other, a completely unbreakable oath. The only time we've ever used it was a promise to be friends forever...and I'm going to use it again now." He cleared his throat. "Cross my heart," he said, drawing an X over his heart with his finger. "Hope to fry," he continued, wriggling his body like he was being electrocuted. "Stick a doughnut in my eye," he finished, covering one eye with his paw. "I promise, no matter what happens, I'll take care of you."
Trixie sniffled, her tears becoming less hysterical. Something about that promise felt...absolutely believable. Somehow, she knew this was a promise that couldn't be broken...even if it felt a little off. "...okay," she whimpered softly.
"I'm going to try and find a way to fix Max," Sam said softly. "In the meantime, you just stay here and rest, okay?"
Trixie nodded. "Can I have something to eat-"
One of the Max head spores floated by, depositing a basket of fresh fruit and other greens practically in Trixie's lap.
"By the twisted soul of a sociopathic sweetheart riding an extra dimensional roller coaster of super juice!" Sam gasped in awe.
"Your oaths seem to be unusually specific and appropriate to the situation, Uncle," Trixie muttered, burying her face in the basket and proceeding to eat.
"I can't always pull it off, but it's fun when I can," Sam allowed. "But this proves that Max is still Max inside! Even his spores are trying to take care of you! I have to tell the others!" With that, he ran deeper into the lab.
Trixie ignored Sam's antics, continuing to eat. As far as she was concerned, all she needed to know was that her Daddy was still trying to take care of her. The fruit and vegetables were very fresh and very filling - the spore had probably raided a farmer's market - and was refreshing both her physical and magical reserves. However, her vital energy was still rather low, so she definitely needed another nap somewhere quiet.
"It's soundproofed!" one of the spores said as it lifted the trunk of the Desoto.
Smiling, Trixie curled up inside to take another short nap.
"Hush little Trixie don't say a word, Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."
Trixie smiled as she drifted off into slumber. She barely noticed when it suddenly became warmer as a result of batter coating much later.
Sam's plan to get inside Max via his mouth by coating the Desoto in corn dog coating had worked like a charm. It was unfortunate, in his opinion, that the only ones he was able to convince to come with him was Paperwaite and Dr. Norrington. He had hoped to at least recruit Sybil - her wide variety of job experience would have been invaluable - but she was out of communication. According to Bluster Blaster, she had gone to Vegas with Bosco. Sam had chosen not to question that.
While he hadn't seen Trixie, Jane had managed to assure him - in the brief communication she was able to get through the etheric interference the Max-Beast was generating - that she was just fine and completely safe. The fact that the Max spores had been watching over her had convinced Sam that this was accurate.
Unfortunately, they were on a very tight schedule. They had just under an hour before Agent Superball would be forced to take nuclear action against the Max Beast. Sam was glad Trixie had not heard about that. Beyond that, as far as Sam knew, Max had no living will...so there was no telling what would happen to Trixie if they lost him.
As they fell out of the Desoto, Sam and Paperwaite landed in an area that looked like a kitchen. "Well, here we are in Max's stomach," Sam said as he shook himself out.
"Ruminate!" a Max spore proclaimed. "Ruminate! Trespassers will be digested!"
"Daddy?"
Sam looked up at the source of the voice. "Trixie?"
The trunk of the Desoto popped open, and Trixie fell out, landing in Sam's arms. "W-where are we?" she asked in confusion.
"We are inside the Beast's stomach," Norrington explained. "Due to the massive amount of psychic energy contained within, it is represented metaphorically rather than literally."
Trixie tilted her head. "How'd you know what Trixie was going to ask?" she demanded.
"The increased psychic energy of the region has drastically increased my perceptive qualities," Norrington replied. "And before you ask, no I can't read your mind. Just your face. So no need to try to think rude things at me. And there I was reading you being Max's daughter."
Trixie leaned up to Sam. "He's good," she whispered.
"We need to get up to the brain," Paperwaite pointed out. "The only way to save him is to locate the Dark Dimension energy he's absorbed and purge it with the Cthulic Powered Robot."
"Err..." Sam began.
"You...do have the robot, don't you?" Norrington asked sharply.
"Of course I...don't," Sam admitted. "But would a spell weave based on the Cthulic Powered Robot's energies work?"
Norrington shrugged his tentacles. "Of course. That's what makes it work in the first place. But how would-"
"Trixie, please tell me you have a new spell form you hadn't noticed before," Sam begged.
Trixie blinked, looking into her mind. "...power of destruction?" she asked in confusion.
"Yes!" Sam proclaimed, pumping his fist. "Trixie was in my inventory while I was carrying the Cthulic Powered Robot. That wasn't just momentary exposure to it, it was prolonged exposure, so her mind absorbed the full nature of its energies. And if she can draw on the psychic energies of the environment, she should be able to power the spell and save Max." He glanced towards Norrington. "Right?"
Norrington waved his tentacles about dismissively. "It's absolutely insane and preposterous!" he proclaimed.
"But it just might work," Paperwaite offered.
"First, we need to find the way to the brain-" Sam began.
"Should we try the elevator?" Trixie suggested, pointing.
Turning, Sam saw that there was, indeed, an elevator up to Max's brain. "But how do we activate it?" he asked.
"We need to get him a rush of endorphins or something," Paperwaite offered.
Following that thought, Sam dumped a jar of espresso from his inventory into a food processor on the 'kitchen' counter. Briefly, Max's entire body shook, and the elevator glowed green as globules began flowing upward. The trio quickly took the elevator upward.
Entering Max's brain, they found it resembled a living room. In one corner was a massive, pulsating, red pustule racing with electricity, next to an unusually plain door.
"Here is the problem!" Paperwaite proclaimed, pointing to the pustule.
"Great galloping Golgi in lipstick on a Vespa with a leather bound day planner!" Sam called in shock. "It's a massive tumor!"
"It's teeming with dark energy," Norrington pointed out. "Once we've removed it, your friend should pop right round to normal again. Assuming that's what you really want-"
Trixie got right up in Norrington's face, her horn glowing. "Trixie. Wants. Her Daddy. Back!" she hissed.
"But the tumor is covered with the electricity of the brain synapses," Paperwaite pointed out. "If we don't calm Max's brain down, the neural charge will feedback along the spell weave and fry Trixie's mind before she can do anything!"
"Would that be through this door?" Trixie asked, using her magic to open the door.
As the door swung open, a monochromatic fey British gentleman stepped out looking irritable.
"What in blazes?" he demanded. "I know Max's powers were keyed to stop anyone from opening the door to the primary brain..." He paused as he saw Trixie's magical aura surrounding the doorknob. "Oh, it's you. The rule breaker. I should have known."
"What are you doing in Daddy's brain?" Trixie demanded angrily.
"In Max's brain?" the being asked, laughing. "I am Max's Brain!"
Trixie immediately hopped onto his back and began scrambling over him.
"What-get off me!" he commanded angrily. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Finding your off switch so Trixie can remove the tumor," Trixie pointed out.
"Not his entire brain," he pointed out. "Just his Superego."
"Oh," Trixie replied, dropping down. "Can you turn down the neural activity so Trixie can remove the tumor?"
Max's Superego brushed himself off. "Why would I want to do that? Do you know how hard I've worked for this?"
"What?" Sam demanded. "But if we don't, the military's going to nuke Max!"
"So much the better!" the Superego replied. "Better to go up in the fiery destructive apocalypse he always wanted to cause than to be stuck in this creature of pure Id who will never listen to me! Bring it to an end!"
"What's so bad about Max?" Sam demanded defensively as Trixie started to whimper.
"What's so bad-?" the Superego began. "He has no taste for the higher arts! He is a barbarian, caring only for his own needs! He is a sociopath incapable of love!"
"But..." Trixie interrupted. "But Daddy...loves Trixie..." she whimpered.
"No he doesn't!" Superego snapped. "What he 'loves' is the chaos, destruction, and awkwardness you cause. You amuse him, like any other shiny thing he's ever found. When you cease to amuse him, he'll move on to some other shiny thing, like he always has before!"
"No!" Trixie proclaimed. "Daddy loves me! I know he does-"
"Has he ever said it?" the Superego countered cruelly. "Has he ever once in all your interactions looked you in the eye and told you he loves you?"
Trixie flinched back as if hit. "But...but he...but..." Her eyes began to water as she seemed to collapse in on herself.
The Superego rocked back as Sam's fist collided with his cheek. "Don't you ever talk that way to Trixie!" he snarled. "I don't care if you are part of Max...you don't get to make her cry! Max loves Trixie! I know he does!"
"Then prove it," the Superego replied, gesturing around at the brain. "Find me one trace of a loving thought for Trixie anywhere in this monstrous brain, and I'll recant. I'll open the folds and let you purge the tumor, returning Max to normal without his psychic powers." He chuckled. "But I know you won't."
Angrily, Sam stalked over to a shelf of audio-books on vinyl. "I don't have to look far," he replied. Reaching up, he grabbed the record labeled 'Hush Little Pony'. "This will say it all."
"What?' Superego demanded. "That ditty he butchered a classic song into to make her sleep? You really think-" He paused as Sam poured out three records. "...there's only supposed to be one."
Equally confused, Sam examined the records. "This first one's labeled 'Hush Little Pony'...but these other two are labeled 'Last Will: Brain Copy' and 'Last Will: Sam's Copy'. What gives?"
"A...will?" the Superego asked in shock.
Curious, Sam placed the 'Brain Copy' on the nearby phonograph, playing the recording.
There was the sound of someone banging a microphone. "Hey, is this...is this thing on?" Max's voice echoed from it. "I really hope this works. I really only have one chance to record this. Can't even face up to the fact I'm doing this - feels like I'm going soft - so I won't even remember it exists once I've finished."
Superego gasped. "That...that's how I didn't know about it? He purged his own memory of recording that deep in his psyche...out of shame?"
Max's voice continued. "Sam, if you're hearing this, then somehow our adventures have led to you examining my brain, whether because I've turned into a massive monstrosity of some sort and you're wandering around inside me...or because I'm dead and you need to harvest my brain for answers. It doesn't seem like it was all that long ago that those two fates would have sounded cool to me...but not now. If you're hearing this, you can consider this my Last Will and Testament. If you're inside my brain, there should be a second copy you can take out with you to play for Jane and the lawyers."
Nodding, Sam placed the 'Sam's Copy' into his inventory.
"Either way...this means I'm likely dead...or will be soon," Max's voice continued. "I need to ask you to do something for me. Take care of Trixie for me."
"Huh?" the Superego demanded.
Trixie's ears fell flat, her eyes watering.
"She needs someone to take care of her," Max's voice continued. "She...she can't be left alone again. Promise me, Sam."
Sam saluted his little buddy. "I promised her already, Max...and I promise you, too."
There was a moment of silence. "To help you take care of her," Max continued, "I've been setting aside a trust fund for her, with money from our savings, selling off various trophies as collectible memorabilia, and embezzling from the National Budget. It's in a Swiss bank account, account number S1E6-S3E5. The password is Mylittlepony, all one word, first letter capitalized, and My in italics. Don't ask me how I managed that, even Jane doesn't know."
The record was silent for a while longer, and then Max's voice returned, thick with emotion. "Trixie...on the one hand, I hope you never hear this, because if you do, it means that I'm going to be leaving you...and I don't want to leave you alone. But at the same time, if it is played...I hope you do hear it. Because I'm going to say here something that...I'll probably never be able to say aloud.
"Trixie...I love you. Daddy loves his little pony..."
Everyone gasped as the record trailed to completion, with Trixie bursting into tears. "D-d-d-daddy," she wailed.
The Superego staggered back. "What...it's not possible...how can..." His eyes widened as the memory of creating that brain file returned to the entirety of Max's brain as the Max Beast burst into tears. "What have I done?" he began to sing. "What have I done...how could things-"
"Lament later!" Sam demanded. "Save Max now!"
"Right!" the Superego replied. "I still have the mana-weave from when Max briefly held the Cthulic Powered Robot. As soon as I've got you all to safety, I'll fix this. For now, all of you get out of here!"
"But how?" Sam demanded.
"The tear ducts!" the Superego proclaimed, blasting the tendrils that were blocking the path. "He'll cry you out! Hurry!" The Superego shoved them all into the duct. "It'll just be five minutes!"
"Nuclear impact in four minutes," a robotic voice proclaimed for somewhere.
As Superego began to force the duct closed, Trixie's eyes widened. "No!" she screamed. "I can't...I can't lose Daddy!" The image of her Cutie Mark suddenly flared brightly in both her eyes, and she shoved past the Superego, accidentally kicking the duct closed in the process.
"Trixie, no!" Sam screamed as the ducts flushed them out of the body.
Trixie raced up to the tumor. "I'll save you, Daddy!" she proclaimed, charging her horn. Reaching deep into her mind, she drew on all the power in the environment she could hold, and released the Power of Destruction copied from the Cthulic Powered Robot.
As the beam hit the tumor, the neural current arced back along the spell weave. Trixie screamed as it plunged into her body, but she held on. Her body began to glow.
There wasn't enough power to purge the dark dimension energy and destroy the tumor...so she used the feedback channel to suck the dark dimension energy into her own body through the spell weave to amplify her own power.
As everything started to go white, her entire body glowed brightly, and she whispered, "I love you, Daddy."
Outside, Sam looked up in fear as the nuclear missile impacted the Max Beast. Without warning, a geyser of pure magic erupted, consuming the Max Beast, the nuclear missile, and - because some things happen whether they need to or not - Skunkape and Girl Stinky somehow.
Sam could only stare as that geyser consumed and obliterated all he held dear. In that one flash of light, his little buddy, his niece...everything that made his life worth living, gone in a flash.
He did the only thing he could do. Taking his hat from his head, he placed it over his heart, lifted his head to the sky...and howled his grief to the uncaring moon.
Sam stared upwards as the magic geyser began to peter off and fade. Where it had erupted, a massive crater drove deep into the ground, breaking several underground pipes in the process. However, the magic had sealed the pipes back up, so nothing poured in to fill it. These were only ancillary details, however. Nothing was really registering to Sam at the moment. His eyes were locked on the fading geyser, the last trace of his lost family. As the geyser faded completely, his eyes blindly traced the white speck that fell, outlined against the sky blackened by magic's light.
It took a full five seconds for his mind to fully register the white speck, and a desperate hope sprung up in him. Without thinking, he charged towards the center of the crater. Halfway down, he spotted an incongruous trampoline with a broken spring. He grabbed it as he passed. Spotting a roll of duct tape further down, he grabbed it as well. A large broken clock provided him a working spring. Reaching the center of the crater, he employed skills developed over years of point and click fetch questing to rapidly assemble a working trampoline, which he set in the exact center of the crater before jumping onto it.
He kept his eyes locked on the falling white figure that grew slowly in his vision as he proceeded to bounce higher and higher. As he got high enough, he saw the distinctive shape, and on his last bounce he caught Max's unconscious form just after the apex of his jump. As he was already starting to travel downward, he was able to dip his arms to absorb most of Max's momentum as he went downward. He bounced a few more times on the trampoline until he came back to a normal height before bouncing off.
Paperwaite and Norrington had rushed up close as soon as he saw what Sam was doing. "Is he...?" Paperwaite asked.
As others gathered around the rim of the crater, Sam kicked the trampoline aside to lay his little buddy down in the exact center. It somehow felt like he was supposed to. "Max?" he whispered hopefully, gently patting the lagomorph's cheek. "Little buddy?"
Max stirred slowly, his eyes fluttering open. "Did anyone...get the number...of that giant battle robot?" he mumbled.
Sam's smile split his face. "You're okay," he choked out, pulling Max into a tight hug.
"Oh, hey Sam," Max said casually. "What'd I miss?"
Sam chuckled as he released Max. "Well, you turned into-"
"Wait, where's Trixie?" Max demanded, turning this way and that. "Why isn't she here? Is she still napping?" Pulling Sam's coat up, he ducked his head into Sam's inventory. "Trixie?"
Sam's face fell. "Max...you turned into a giant dark dimension monster. We...went inside you to fix you, but...we had to evacuate before the nuke hit you. ...Trixie leapt out of my arms before we were all the way out, and...rushed back in. I don't know what she did, but...she saved you..."
Max stared at Sam, his face quivering. "Y...you're joking, Sam," he asserted, his voice shaken. "You're...you're pulling my leg, right? You wouldn't let Trixie do something like that, right?" He grabbed hold of Sam's coat and shook him. "This isn't funny, Sam! Where's Trixie?"
Sam hung his head. "Max..."
"You!" Max shouted suddenly, rounding on Norrington. "You did this, didn't you?" He began raining punches on the eldritch abomination. "Give her back! Give her back!"
Though Paperwaite winced in pain with every blow, Norrington took the abuse in silence until Sam pulled Max back. "Max, he didn't-"
"No!" Max snapped. "Someone did this, and I'm going to kill them!" He writhed viciously in Sam's grip until he broke free. "Who was it?" He yanked his gun out of nowhere. "Who am I going to shoot?" The air seemed to crackle around him.
Sam sighed sadly, hanging his head, saying nothing.
Max shivered. "No...it can't...I won't accept it!" He spun, reality warping around him. He didn't have his psychic powers anymore, he could feel that. But the atmosphere was still so etherically and psychically charged that the intensity of his volatile emotions was enough to make things happen. "Satan!" he shouted. "I'm gonna make a deal!"
Satan appeared in a flash of fire and light. "A deal, Max? Any particular reason you called for me specifically-"
Max rushed forward, gripping Satan's hand beseechingly with both of his. "I'll give you my soul! I'll give you Sam's soul! I'll sign over the souls of the entire United States of America! We'll become your army to conquer the world in your name! I'll lead your armies in a war on God! I'll yank that arrogant ass off his throne, turn him over my knee, and spank him for your entertainment! I'll do anything! Just...just bring Trixie back..." He fell to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes. "Just give me back my little girl..."
Satan stared down at Max...and tears poured from his eyes as he sighed. "I can't do that, Max," he said softly, comfortingly. "Trixie is not part of our cycle of life and death. That's why her virtue has been attributed to the two of you. Wherever her soul has gone...it's beyond my reach. All I would be able to do is create a demonic simulacrum of her that would act as you remember her...but I won't do that to her memory. I'm...sorry, Max."
Max stared up at the Prince of Lies...and saw only truth in his eyes. "No..." he whispered, staggering back. "No!" he wailed, turning away to land on all fours. "No!" He pounded his fist against the ground, and the charged atmosphere caused it to crack and splinter in response. "Why, Trixie?" he wailed, smashing the ground again. "Why? Why would you die for me?" He lifted his head in an anguished wail. "I'm not worth it!" he screamed to the uncaring heavens. His head fell down, hanging limply from his neck as he broke into choked sobs. "I'm not wo-o-o-rth it..."
Sam knelt down beside his despairing partner. He rested his hand on the lagomorph's back, his own eyes wet with tears. "Just...let it all out, Max...let it all out..."
They stayed there, the entire world seeming to be in solemn silence save Max's choked sobs. Not even the wind dared to blow, and no pin dared drop. After a time, Max spoke up. "I...think I'm going to be sick..."
"I know what you mean, little-"
Max suddenly coughed and hacked, his body jerking like he was purging a hairball.
"Oh, like that," Sam replied. "Well, it's best to let that all out, too."
With one last hack, a sphere of light was ejected from Max's throat to land in the exact center of the crater. Emblazoned in the light was Trixie's Cutie Mark.
Sam stood up, walking towards it, wondering what it could be. When he saw that the image of her Cutie mark showed the exact same face no matter what angle it was viewed from, he knew something mythic was going on. Hope began to swell in his heart.
The sphere slowly expanded until it was the exact size to contain Trixie, and then flared. When the light faded, a very damp pony slowly pushed herself to her hooves. "Ugh..." she grumbled as her horn sparked. "Trixie needs a bath..." She began to shake her hoof off.
Max lifted his head, his eyes filled with both hope and fear. "...Trixie?" he called out, his voice a little hoarse.
Trixie's head spun around on her neck to face him, and her eyes widened in joy. "Daddy!" she called out excitedly, lunging forward as her wings flared with her joy.
Nobody moved a muscle or managed a complete thought for a full minute. Finally, Trixie turned her head back around on her neck to gaze upon her new feathered appendages, and expressed her reaction to them with all the eloquence at her disposal. "...oro?"
"Those are new," Paperwaite pointed out.
Norrington gasped in surprise. "Trixie...exactly how did you cleanse the dark dimension energy out of the tumor?"
Trixie kicked her hoof. "Trixie...didn't. Trixie...absorbed it to power the spell so she could purge the tumor..."
Norrington sniffed the air around her. "But...there's no trace of dark dimension energy in or on you now...but a great deal more power, as though it were...purified..." His eyes went wide. One of his tentacles seized Paperwaite's leg and yanked him forward. "On your knees, fool!" he commanded.
"What?" Paperwaite demanded. "Why?"
"She absorbed and purified dark dimension energy and achieved a new, beautiful form...while retaining her personality. You are in the presence of a newly ascended goddess!" Norrington lowered his eyes. "All hail the Divine and Beautiful Trixie!"
Trixie's eyes nearly popped out of her head as everyone gathered in the higher levels of the crater - even Satan himself - knelt and repeated the chant. As the chanting went on, though, eventually a smile tugged at her lips. "...Trixie could get to like this..."
"Not much different for us," Sam pointed out from his kneeling position. "We already practically worship you anyway."
"Worship can come later," Max said. Rushing forward, he pulled Trixie into a tight embrace. "...I thought I'd lost you..." he whispered, crying into her mane.
Smiling, Trixie wrapped her forelegs and new wings around him. "I'm harder to lose than that..." she whispered, nuzzling him as the city worshiped their divine savior.
At 10 o'clock sharp, am and pm, Eastern Standard Time, a bell rang out that could be heard all across the world. Everyone who was awake to hear the bell turned to the nearest Speech Stone - statues of the new Goddess placed conveniently so none would have to go far to gaze upon her greatness, from which any new edicts, announcements, proclamations, coliseum play by plays, and divine tweets would broadcase for all to hear - and begin the chant of worship.
"Trixie is divine. Trixie's Beautiful. Happy are we to be but mere puppets to her will." At this point, every worshiper clasped their hands together, bowing low to the Speech Stone with their clasped hands held close to their chest. Then came the second line of the chant. "Trixie reigns supreme, from earth to sky above. Happily we offer her our hearts and all our love." During the last line, every worshiper would go to one knee, change from clasping their hands together to cupping them against their chest, and then hold them out as though presenting an offering.
Shortly thereafter, some announcement from the Divine and Beautiful Trixie, manifest Goddess of Earth, would follow. Sometimes they would be of great importance. Some days they would be of philosophical significance. Today, Her Holiness apparently desired an audience with which to practice her singing.
In the flying palace high above New York City - a renovated, retrofitted, and refurbished space ship that now looked like Trixie rather than its former owner - Sam shook his head in amusement. It was amazing how quickly word of Trixie's ascension to divinity had spread across the globe...and how quickly it had been accepted and embraced. Sam's private suspicions involved some little Trixie still being inside everyone's head from back when Trixie had hijacked the Blissification, silently urging everyone who saw or heard her to love and worship her. As for the new regime being embraced...that probably came from very little actually changing as a result as far as people's everyday lives.
World leaders had gathered at first to discover what divine mandates would alter the way the world was run...and Trixie had told them to get back to their own jobs. "Trixie does not have time to deal with all that political and paperwork nonsense!" she had proclaimed, her scathing retort sending the world leaders back to their jobs. By evening, being a politician had become the least glamorous job in existence, and only those who genuinely wanted to change the way the world worked still sought the job.
Of course, Sam's theories didn't explain how quickly those races that weren't susceptible to hypnosis - and thus were unaltered by the Blissification, like the molemen and the Underfeet - embraced her so quickly. When questioned, however, a moleman sage revealed that they had an ancient legend of the Unwarper, one who - when given the power to warp reality to her whim - would instead use her power to undo such warps and restore reality to the path it was meant to take. That prophecy named the Unwarper their savior. And dozens of molemen had witnessed Trixie using the Toybox to undo Sammun-Mak's alterations to reality.
(Later, Sam found Trixie teleporting into the Sky Fortress looking quite pleased with herself. When questioned, she explained she had spent the past few days copying all the 'ancient carvings' of the molemen - covering all their laws, prophecies, and so on - onto a modern, stone-like material that could last for eons. She had then learned the name of the moleman prophet who had brought those words to the molemen, as well as when he had given the prophecies. She'd then used time travel to go back to a week prior and gave him those carvings as a 'gift from a Goddess', thus creating her place in molemen mythology. ...apparently, she'd also made those carvings in the back of the Underfeet cave eons prior.)
All the worlds armies had been united under Trixie's banner as a planetary defense force, whose purpose was to protect the planet from aliens like Skunkape. Of course, this was not to say the conflicts that once resulted in wars were at an end. Far from it. However, Trixie had declared that if leaders of countries were to squabble like schoolboys over these issues rather than talking it out like adults, they should settle it like schoolboys. This was the purpose of the coliseum matches. If some conflict arose between nations, the leaders of the two nations would meet in some form of non-lethal single combat, to be declared by Trixie at the start of the match.
The nature of these combats varied depending on her mood, her tastes, and random thoughts popping into her head. If the leaders were younger men and at least somewhat handsome, she might order them to oil wrestle in speedos. If they were young woman and at least somewhat attractive, she might order the same for Sam and Max's entertainment. Other combats she had ordered were everything from singing competitions, big foam clue bat duels, cheep cheep slapping, clogging, and once mummified cat juggling.
Her favorite, however, was the one she chose when the competing leaders were elderly men: the clown battle. Each leader was dressed up as a clown with full make up, red nose, giant ears, and giant shoes. They were armed with a rubber chicken and a squirt bottle filled with water. They then engaged in battle, smacking each other with the rubber chicken or spraying each other with the squirt bottles. The loser was the first competitor who had to unscrew the bottle top to take their heart medication.
The Freelance Police remained a mobile police force, seeking out crime wherever it reared its ugly head. Sometimes they went the classical route of nostalgia, seeking out the various random items that could be used or combined to solve the case and trap the criminal. Other times, Trixie would handle the entire case with her magic, recording it all for later broadcast on international television so all could see her greatness. If Trixie weren't in the mood to deal with the criminal directly, however, Max would use the Sky Fortress' weapon systems for an aerial bombardment. ...sometimes Trixie claimed she wasn't in the mood just to see the look of perverse glee on Max's face as he pressed all the 'big boom buttons'.
In the center of the Sky Fortress, poised to gaze out across the entire planet, was a massive golden throne bedecked with jewels, clearly showing the wealth of nations. The softest of pillows covered the seat, and the arm rests were wrapped in smoothest velvet cushions. This was Max's chair. Trixie sat in Max's lap. When the throne had first been commissioned, the builder had been confused why it was for the Divine One's father, and not herself. She had replied that no throne could ever be more comfortable than sitting in her Daddy's lap. "After all," she had pointed out, "no chair of metal and fabric - however well made - can come with built in ear scratchers."
And after 10 pm worship, Trixie would seek her bed. Broadcast to the whole world, Max would sing her favorite lullaby. And then, still on live broadcast and not caring who heard, Max would lean in, plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, and whisper the words that had been so hard for him to say for so long. "I love you, Trixie."
And the divine Goddess of the entire planet would smile up at her father, kiss him on the cheek, and reply, "I love you, Daddy."
As the Divine and Beautiful Trixie matured, she slowly outgrew her adorability to everyone but Max. However, she grew into a true beauty. Her mane and tail shimmered with an inner light as they flowed in their own mystic breeze. Her coat glowed with health, and her eyes shimmered with inner starlight. Even those who were not attracted to tiny equines found their hearts stopping when she smiled regally at them.
Of course, as she passed puberty, those smiles became fewer and further between. Her demeanor began to become more waspish and irritable. Her 'divine punishments for misdeeds' became more frequent, and more mean spirited. It was slowly becoming a dark time for the believers. However, the molemen spoke of how this time came for all beings, and all would be better once she matured. Parents across the world nodded wisely. Adolescence was always a trying time, and strict limitations had to be implemented to prevent teenagers from becoming monsters. ...but the only one who could put limitations on the Goddess of Earth didn't seem to be in a limiting mood.
Eventually, however, even Max realized that Trixie was upset about something, shortly after her 18th birthday - a lavish public ceremony and holiday by day, and a private party with just family by night, as it had always been since her ascendance. "What's bothering you, Trixie?" he asked the next day, scratching her behind the ear.
Trixie struggled against the caress at first, the very sign that had told Max that this wasn't just Trixie becoming an evil overlord as he'd thought. "Trixie is...lonesome," she said finally.
"Want to go hit a ball game?" Max offered. "Or a movie? Or a night club?"
"Perhaps invite Sybil and Bosco up to the Sky Fortress for a quasi-family reunion?" Sam offered.
Trixie glanced away. "Not that kind of lonesome," she pouted.
Max and Sam both gazed at her in confusion.
"Trixie wants sex, dammit!" she snapped.
"Oh..." Sam and Max replied together.
"So, we should be finding you a gigolo?" Max offered.
"Trixie doesn't just want meaningless sex," she complained. "Trixie wants a consort! Someone to worship Trixie as a mare rather than as a goddess, to make Trixie feel good...and someday give Trixie babies."
"So we should be setting up some sort of 'divine bachelorette' contest?" Sam offered, unaware that the entirety of this conversation was being broadcast through the Speech Stones. "Sending out to the world for all the unmarried young men to submit themselves to compete for the chance to court you?"
"Humans? Ick!" Trixie stuck her tongue out as she made gagging noises. "Trixie doesn't want to date humans! They're all hairless and icky!"
Overnight, the market dropped out from under razors and shaving cream. In other news, there was a massive boom in 'miracle hair grow' products for the entire body.
In unrelated news, before the year was out, Bigfoot sightings had increased dramatically...though 99% of them turned out to just be 'exceptionally hairy humans'.
"Well, what else can we do?" Max asked. "Open a dimensional gateway connected to the world of your origins so you can pick a likely stallion you can drag back here kicking and screaming to lock up in a sex dungeon?"
Trixie smiled eagerly. "That can work!"
"Well, I don't know about the sex dungeon," Sam pointed out, "but Mama Bosco does have that Dimensional Destabilizer we used to retrieve the Cthulic Powered Robot. It could be possible to use it to connect to whatever world you come from."
"You can do that?" Trixie demanded eagerly. "Why didn't you tell Trixie years ago?"
"We didn't think you wanted to go back," Max pointed out.
"Well...Trixie doesn't, really," she replied. "But Trixie wants a stallion of her own! Let's go!"
"To Mama Bosco's!" Sam proclaimed, taking the controls of the Sky Fortress to guide them there.
Mama Bosco smiled down at Trixie. "Jane thought you'd need something like this one of these days," she said easily. "We've been spending the past few years scanning the multiverse to find the exact dimension you come from."
"...exact?" Trixie asked, confused.
"Well, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of variations of individual dimensions," Mama Bosco explained. "While it was easy enough to find the dimension cluster where the prime world was inhabited by ponies, finding the one that was presently missing its variation of you was a bit harder."
"Eventually, I came up with the idea of looking at the timeline point of your arrival, and tracing it into the cluster to find the timeline you were plucked from," Jane explained. "Once we succeeded, we had to create a quantum stabilization effect so that - when the dimensions were connected again - time would pass at the same rate on both sides of the bridge, and the laws of physics would more or less normalize."
"We finished all that three years ago," Mama Bosco explained.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam demanded. "You saw how Trixie was getting!"
"We had not yet gathered enough planetary psychic energy to stabilize the gateway," Jane explained. "We needed enough so that it would be a stable bridge, and last for more than ten seconds."
"How were you gathering the energy?" Max asked curiously.
"From the Speech Stones during morning and evening worship," Jane replied. "The entire planet united in thought and action in worshiping Trixie provided a surge of psychic energy to be properly harvested. I've been storing that carefully since the worship became planet wide."
"We can now open the bridge and keep it open for a whole week," Mama Bosco concluded. "And once we've opened it once, we'll be able to do it far more efficiently next time. Should only take a week or so of energy harvesting between gate openings to recharge."
"Then prepare the gate!" Trixie proclaimed. "Trixie shall make a good impression as she returns to her home world as a goddess!"
It was a beautiful day in Ponyville. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, fillies and colts were at play, and the Crystal Castle sparkled in the early morning light. It looked to be a perfect day...which was why long time adult citizens were double checking their home insurance to be sure they were paid up and covered 'acts of plot convenience'.
When six particular mares' Cutie Marks began vibrating around town, several of the older citizens vacated to their bunkers, just to be on the safe side.
Twilight, for her part, stared at the Map in worry once all her friends had gathered. All six Cutie Marks floated over the Map, focusing in on Ponyville fields. Just as it zoomed in enough that individual foals playing together could be picked out, a rip appeared in the air between the circling Cutie Marks, and the Map failed.
"What in tarnation was that?" Applejack demanded in confusion.
"I...I have no idea," Twilight admitted fearfully. "Whatever it is, we need to get to Ponyville Fields."
At the fields, the six mares found a rip in the air at ground level that was slowly widening. Ponies from all around town had gathered to see what was going on, since it didn't seem to be destroying anything or releasing horrors of any sort. It was, however, slowly opening wider.
Twilight took a quick glance into the rip and gasped. "It's...it's a dimensional gate!"
"How do you know that so quick?" Rainbow demanded.
"Because the energy vortex inside is identical to the one through the mirror portal!" Twilight replied, quickly writing a letter to Princess Celestia and having Spike send it.
"Well that's a good thing, right?" Pinkie suggested. "Maybe your friends from that world are coming here-"
"Do you have any idea how much power it takes to anchor a dimensional portal?" Twilight interrupted. "Let alone create one that isn't anchored on both sides? I don't even want to think what could be coming through that could have that much power." She spread her wings. "Everypony step back!" she ordered, pitching her voice so everypony present could hear.
At that moment, the portal overcome the dimensional inertia keeping it shut and flared open, stabilizing as a gateway, a swirling vortex of colors and light visible within it. Two figures stepped out, barely recognizable to most Ponyvillians, although Fluttershy had to be held back from flying forward to snuggle them, since they were, 'so cuuute!'
Sam and Max turned to face each other, kneeling before the portal. "Presenting the living Goddess of Earth," Sam intoned ritualistically.
"Let all who behold her know love and despair, for she is all powerful!" Max intoned.
"Her divine countenance brings grace!"
"Her beauty brings glory!"
They raised their voices together. "Her Holiness, the Divine and Beautiful Trixie!"
Trixie strutted out through the portal, her head lifted as her horn glittered in the sunlight. Her wings were spread wide to display her majestic glory as her mane and tail shimmered and waved. Garbed in a gown of white silk, a crown of gold and diamonds rested just behind her horn. "Behold, ponies!" she proclaimed. "For Trixie has returned to-"
"Trixie?" Twilight gasped in disbelief. "Is that really you?" she stepped forward in excitement. "Where have you been? How did you become an alicorn? When did this happen?"
Trixie stared at Twilight in disbelief. "You!" she stated in shock. "You are the one who always showed Trixie up in her dreams of the other life!" She stared from Twilight's horn to her wings. "How is it you have ascended as Trixie-" She paused. "What is an alicorn?"
Twilight smiled. "An alicorn is a pony who has the traits of all three pony tribes! It means you're a Princess now, like me!"
Trixie stared at Twilight, flummoxed. "A mere Princess?" she demanded. "The Great and Powerful Trixie is Goddess of her world, and-"
"What's a Goddess?" Twilight asked.
"A female God," Sam replied.
"What's a god?" Pinkie asked.
Trixie stared at the gathered ponies for a time in disbelief, then turned her nose up with a 'hmph.' "Well, Trixie will not be remaining in this world any longer than she has to. Once she has what she came for, Trixie is returning to Earth where she is loved and worshiped as is proper for a Goddess, rather than here where she is one of...how many Princesses?"
"Including you...five," Twilight replied.
"Five? Ugh!" Trixie shuddered. "Trixie will not be one of many."
"So...what did ya come back for then?" Applejack demanded.
"Trixie has come for a stallion to be her divine consort!" she proclaimed. Glancing around, she spied a particular stallion. "You!" she proclaimed, pointing. "You will be Trixie's consort!"
"Nope!" The stallion said quickly. He then began to back up as fast as his legs could take him, saying, "Nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope..." as he raced away, Trixie hot on his hooves.
As most of Ponyville stared, Celestia came in for a landing. "I came as soon as I got your letter, Twilight," she said as she folded her wings. "You said something about an interdimensional portal? Please-"
"Nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope..." The stallion sped past them backwards going the other way, putting on a burst of speed that had Rainbow Dash whistling respectfully.
"Come back you big red hunk of burning love!" Trixie called as she pursued. "Give Trixie your demigod babies!"
"...explain?" Celestia concluded as she stared after them.
