The Continuing Weekly Adventures Of Dr. Zachary Smith H.M.O.

This weeks episode:

Episode #41: Parts Unknown 
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Last Week as you recall, Dr. Zachary Smith and Capt. James Brown had just slipped through the hole in space and time left by the Evil Von TipRău, Villain of Villains.  He had stolen the Townspeople of Legopolis away for some nefarious scheme, to which none but himself are privy.  Not even I, the Narrator, —Who Has Read the Script— have any idea what his nefarious schemes are.
Dr. Smith, Capt. Brown, and their chosen vehicle —A  1935 Jaguar— seem to appear out of a bit of air that just doesn't  fit.

-=fig. 199: Through the Looking Glass=-
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"AHHH!" Yells Capt. Brown, unaccustomed as he is to trans-dimensional travel.  Their suspension creaks as they hit the ground at great speed and from considerable height.  But Dr. Zachary Smith, veteran driver, expertly applies the brakes, and expertly skids to a stop, inches from the immovable mass that was the wall.  
“Well, Zachary, that was something!” Capt. Brown yells, his ears ringing from the crash landing.   They climb out of the car, Gingerly, so as to not dislodge any fragile body parts.  Or any parts of the car that may have decided to fall off.  Dr. Smith, naturally curious, wanders into the ominous cave. The Air, blindingly bright outside,  disappears ominously the further into the cave they go.  Capt. Brown, a born baritone,  Breaks into song, to try and lighten the mood.
“Aieressera, oì nanninè, me ne sagliette,
tu saie addò tu saie addò
Addò 'stu core 'ngrato cchiù dispietto farme nun pò!
Addò lo fuoco coce, ma si fuie
te lassa sta!
E nun te corre appriesso, nun te struie, 'ncielo a guardà!...
Jammo, jammo 'ncoppa, jammo jà,
funiculì, funiculà!”

Dr. Smith, {Tenor}  recognizing the song, joins in on the second chorus;

“Nè... jammo da la terra a la montagna! no passo nc'è!
Se vede Francia, Proceta e la Spagna...
Io veco a tte!
Tirato co la fune, ditto 'nfatto,
'ncielo se va.." 
At the end of the song, Dr. Smith, laughing, slaps Capt. Brown on the back. “You could have had a marvelous career in opera, James.  What Happened?”  Capt. Brown just shrugs. The dark of the cave, having lost its fears, looks much less ominous than before.

Until the air just in front of Dr. Smith starts to crackle.  
“What’s that Zachary?”  but Dr. Smith just walks toward the glowing bit of air, like a man in a dream.  Our Cameras couldn’t capture it all that well, this is the best picture we could get:
 

-=fig. 200: It’s getting worse.=-
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“Get back to the car, James.”
Capt. Brown ran. 
Ran.
Dr. Smith was close behind, not even bothering to open the car door.
the world started to shake, and the colors too.

-=fig. 201: We need leave, now.=-

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“Zachary? We need to leave, NOW.”  “I know. Got your seatbelt? Good. Now. Pull that lever.”

The orchestra rises to a crescendo,

and stops, pauses more like.

-=fig. 202: Curiouser and Somewhat More Curious=-
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BANG! 
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 -=fig. 203: Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler=-
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 Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler, a born salesman, senses the change in atmosphere, and smiles.
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 The 1935 Jaguar skids to a stop, ruining a perfectly good set of brakes.

-=fig. 204: Two Orders To Go=-
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The tires steamed, gently.
There was not a soul for–
"Hurry Hurry Hurry! Get Yer' turkey Legs here!"
Not A Soul For Mi–
"Fresh enough! Step Right Up!"
NOBODY ABOU–

"Try Yer' Luck! Oops, wrong one."
 NO ONE AT ALL!
"Hurry Hurry Hurry!"
Nobody!
Except  Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler, huckster extraordinaire. 

Dr. Smith and Capt. Brown Carefully disembark themselves from the Jaguar. "I'll Handle this James," Dr. Smith walks over to Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler, but before he could say anything, Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler launched into his Shpiel {שפּיל} "You Sir look like a man of discerning taste, yes you do. Tell Ya' what, for you,–"Dr. Smith couldn't get a word in edgewise. "–just you, now, and for TODAY ONLY! I'll give you not one, not two, but 1½ Fresh{-ish} Legs of Finer quality turkey! That's Right Not One, Not Two–" The man wouldn't stop talking! "Not even Three! But 1½ High{-er} Quality Turkey Legs! Whaddaya Say, friend!"  "Er–"  "Thankyaverymuch, another satisfied customer! That's right Folks another satisfied customer! Step right Up and try yer' Luck, awinnereverytime!"   Before He Knew what was happening Dr. Smith was carrying 1½ legs of higher quality turkey back to where Capt. Brown stood, laughing. "Are you Laughing at me James?" Asks, Dr. Smith, interrogatively. "No! Of Course {Ha HA} Not. Never. But you went about it all the wrong way." "Be my guest, James.  But be careful, that man's been trained on the streets of London, and no mistake." Capt. Brown Walks up to Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler. "He-llo there Friend–"  "QUIET."  It was not a command. It was a statement.  Quiet happened.  Quite suddenly. With a Range like Capt. James Browns, the world listens. Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler rallies marvelously though, "I will not be pushed around by–" "I SAID QUIET" The Ground rattled.  Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler, not one to give up, opens his mouth to respond, one more time. "I CAN GO LOWER. AND LOUDER."  Capt. Brown reaches a low E before Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler's cart starts to vibrate.  Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler–A born Businessman– knows when he is beaten: "All Right! All right! What do you want?"   Capt. Brown Steps aside, and makes a sweeping gesture to Dr. Smith, indicating that he was turning this section of the interrogation over to Dr. Smith.  "Why are you here?" Asks Dr. Smith, Questioningly.  Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler,  Huckster to the core, switches back into "Refrigerators to Eskimos" mode. "I've personally analyzed the latest data from the VERY TOP SCIENTISTS From around the world! And I've found that this very spot, that's right. RIGHT HERE! Is gonna be the the biggest retail mall this side of–" "And the Real Reason?" Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler muttered something inaudible. "What?" "I was kicked out of the Guild of…" "What? Speak up Man!" "I was kicked out of the guild of Hucksters, Shysters, And Turkey Salesmen for purveying Inferior Merchandise.  Alright? Are you happy? Really. coercing a confession."  "But How Did you get here?  Flash of light? Loud noise?  Short-term memory loss? Any of that?"   

Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler thought. 

And Thought Some More. 

A Bit More Thought was needed.  

Right Then, a decision was reached. 

"Nope."


He said.
Dr. Smith Thinks for moment, and then says; "I notice that you don't have any wheels on that cart of yours, you wouldn't happen to have a miniature sub-atomic anti-gravity generator in there?"  Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler begins to say no, then thinks for a second. "I Jus– I Don't know." Dr. Smith smacks his forehead,"* Of course, I forgot, you would call it a…um…ZS5000 Wheel-Less Wheels."  "That I Do, I Have One of those, good investment.  got it in fact Back In–"  "Right, we're gonna need to…Borrow it." 

-=fig. 205: ZS5000?=-
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"The ZS5000 Zachary? Really?"  "Oh sush, like you've never named one of your Inventio–…Cities… after yourself."  After Installing The ZS5000, The Jaguar Is ready to fly.

-=fig. 206: You Can't leave me Here!=-
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"You Can't Leave me Here!" Shouts Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler, Waving his Arms frantically.  "Leave him Zachary." Commands Capt. Brown, "He was just whinging little twerp."  "James! That's not nice. True, But not nice. We have taken the mans Only Mode of transportation, his Hover cart."  "He can't fit in the Jaguar. "  "No, but I have an Idea." 

 -=fig. 207: Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribbler speeding along in his cart=-
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"I thought it was really neat how you pulled that surfboard out of your bag like that." Capt. Brown says, "But you didn't need to Make his cart go that fast, did you?"  Dr. Smith Smiles. "I Guess I'm Just a Natural Philanthropist."

-=fig. 208: Exit, Stage Right=-
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Dr. Smith {Natural Philanthropist} flies the Jaguar toward a handy Hole, Unfortunately, some of our Cameras aren't prepared for such trauma. so they burnt off, you can see them in fig. 208 {Above}  We are working on improving the Camera design, but until then we have no Idea where…they…went.

Come back next week for:

Episode #42: Terra Incognita

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

*Sorry that wasn't very clear, I meant that Dr. Smith Smacked his own Forehead, not Mr. Clement "Joe" Dribblers forehead.  That Would just be ridiculous.


Right.

Hope I Cleared that up, then.

Yup.