The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie ***FINAL EPISODE***

[Mr. Morden]

[And the flashback ends, as we're back in the infirmary with Hog and Winfield.]

Winfield: I believe that with your help, we can rectify both problems.

Hog: What?!?  You can help me remember who I am?

Winfield: Perhaps.

I believe we may know something of your identity.  You see, you were once an employee of Xerox here in Salt Lake City.  As it happens, we've been looking for just such a former employee of Xerox.  At the regional Xerox building in Salt Lake, we have discovered a coded map, which will take us to a secret underground lab, somewhere in this metropolitan area.  Unfortunately, we require simultaneous retinal eye scans from two different current or former Xerox employees to unlock the map.  I have had former Xerox employee Mr. Bushie on the payroll for some time, but we need a second Xerox employee to get that map.  We need you.

Hog: And let's say that I believe you.  Let's pretend that I did used to work for Xerox, and I help you unlock this map.  Just what will you find in this super secret underground lab?

Winfield: A time machine.  Or what I hope is a time machine.

If it is, then it can both send you back to your own time, and it also set the timeline right, so that we elect as president of these United States the greatest political talent of either the 20th or 21st Century.

Governor for the Bay State

President for America

Mitt Romney, the right choice.

Hog: O....K.....

Bushie told us that a crime boss named "The Irishman" had a time machine.  Is that what you're talking about?

Winfield: A half truth, of sorts.  The Irishman may not be a conventional sort of criminal.  But he is guilty of some of the greatest crimes against the Romney family that one can imagine.

Hog: I'm sorry Winfield, but nothing you say makes sense.  Can you just talk straight for once, and explain everything from the beginning?

[Winfield sighs.]

Winfield: Very well.  I will explain the entire story, which stretches back more than 40 years.....

Secret underground Xerox lab, interior

[Blondie, having been left unconscious, awakens as he's placed down on a rug, inside a nondescript room within the lab.  As he awakes, he sees his captor again, the ski-masked assailant who abducted him at the end of the previous episode.]

Blondie: OK, OK.  I guess I should know the drill by now.  This is after all the third time I've been taken prisoner in the last two days.

[The ski-masked assailant removes his mask, and reveals himself to be PiT (The Physicist), looking 16 years older than the version we saw in Episode 21.]

PiT (The Physicist) I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to abduct you like that, but I can't afford to be seen outside, or Winfield's robots might spot me.  Too dangerous to try to explain everything to you out there, so I had to knock you out and bring you here.  (pause) Do you want anything to eat?  You must be starving, and there's plenty of dog food here.

[PiT goes to serve Blondie some dog food.]

Blondie: I'm sorry, who are you?  What did you want to explain to me, and who is Winfield?

PiT (The Physicist) I'm PiT (The Physicist).  I was a summer student for a physicist at Fermilab named Muon2, way back in the year 2013.  But we've been in hiding from Winfield ever since then, because he's after Muon's time machine.

Blondie: Time machine?  Bushie told us that some gangster named "The Irishman" here in Salt Lake City had a time machine.  Is this the same one?

PiT (The Physicist) Gangster?  Hardly.  But "the Irishman" as you know him is our benefactor.

[PiT places the bowl of dog food in front of Blondie, who begins to devour it.]

PiT (The Physicist) Sorry for the mess here.  We have some cleaners who occasionally come in, but they're Mormons, and it's Sunday, so they haven't been in today.

[At that, we hear footsteps, as someone is entering from the adjacent room......

But it's not just one "someone".  It's a ~70 year old man, and a dog.  A dog who was surely the oldest dog that Blondie had ever seen.  He even had reading glasses and what looked like a white beard.  Do dogs have beards?  Blondie didn't know, since he was only a puppy, and didn't really know how the world worked.

No, this dog was.....

this dog was......

And then it hit Blondie.  The dog before him was in fact the Irishman.  The "Irishman" was an Irish Setter.

Irish Setter: Hello....Blondie, is it?  I see you've met PiT.  And this (points to the 70 year old man) is my associate, Muon2.  And I am--

Blondie: The Irishman.  You're the Irishman, aren't you?

Irish Setter: I have been known to go by that name for many years now, yes.  But you may also have heard of me by the name that I was originally given......Seamus Romney.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

OK, the next episode is going to be a monster to write.  It'll certainly be the longest one yet, and more structurally complex than the episodes we've had so far.  I already have some detailed notes on it, but it'll still probably take a long time to write.  Would prefer to keep it as one episode, rather than split it up.

Tentative title is "Dogs are a lot more resourceful than you give them credit for".  (A quote from Bushie, as all the titles are: https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3791097#msg3791097 )

[Grumpier Than Uncle Joe]

If it doesn't include Russ Powers of Oklahoma or The Kropfinger, don't bother.

[True Federalist (진정한 연방 주의자)]

If it doesn't include Russ Powers of Oklahoma or The Kropfinger, don't bother.

Nah.  Inserting Russ Powers now makes no sense.  However, doing so after some use of the time machine changes the timeline to be more like ours until a temporal point after Bushie meets Powers would make excellent sense.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 25 (2x05) "Dogs Are A Lot More Resourceful Than You Give Them Credit For"

[Note: The structure of this episode is somewhat unique, as it consists of two sets of exposition.  In Winfield's bunker, Winfield is explaining to Hog the entire backstory of his own character, Seamus, Muon, the time machine, the Romney family, etc.  In the Xerox lab, Muon and Seamus are giving the same story to Blondie.  We assume that they're relaying almost identical stories, so we cut back and forth between them frequently.  We also cut to flashbacks quite a bit.

So because of this unique structure, it would get tedious to keep setting the scene again and again as you go back and forth between the Xerox lab and Winfield's bunker.  So for the rest of this episode, any time we're in Winfield's bunker, the text will be in blue, and any time we're in the Xerox lab, the text will be in red.  Any time we're in a flashback, the text will be in black.]

[We open on Blondie, Seamus, Muon2, and PiT.  Seamus, who also goes by "The Irishman", has just revealed to Blondie that his real name is Seamus Romney.]

Blondie: Seamus Romney?  I don't understand.  Is that supposed to mean something?

Seamus: It means that I was the dog of two time presidential candidate Mitt Romney.  Many years ago....long before he ever ran for any political office.

Blondie: I'm sorry.  I'm just a dog.  I don't know what you're talking about.

Muon2: Then we'll explain it to you.  The story begins in 1983.  I was a student at Brandeis University.  My thesis advisor, Prof. Diktor, had been doing some time travel research that he involved me in, but unfortunately, he passed away in a lab accident.  I attended the wake, and it was there that I met Mitt Romney, who was then a Vice President at Bain & Company.

January 1983, Prof. Diktor's wake

Mitt Romney: Mr. Muon?  My condolences on your loss.

Muon2: Thank you.  But.....*my* loss?  If you're here, at this wake, then I assume you knew Professor Diktor as well?

Mitt Romney: No, I'm afraid I didn't.  Or at least.....I only knew him by reputation.  Though I was hoping to arrange a meeting with him soon about his research, which I believe you've been involved with as well?

Muon2: Who are you?

Mitt Romney: My name's Mitt Romney, entrepreneur, husband, father, citizen, hunter of small, small varmints.  I'm a vice president of a management consulting firm, Bain & Company.  We've actually had our eye on Professor Diktor's research for some time now.

Muon2: Really?  You've had your eye on time travel research?  Why would a consulting firm--

Mitt Romney: Well, we have quite a few clients.  Some of them have some interest in scientific research.....especially research with medical applications.

Muon2: Medical applications?

Mitt Romney: Yes.  I'm no scientist, but I read the report on Professor Diktor's research.  This supposed "time travel" project looks like a dud--no offsense--that is....it looks like a dud as far as using it to travel through time.

Muon2: Well yes, for now.  Creating a working time machine is decades away, but the basic research shows promise.

Mitt Romney: Yes, but that's not what makes it commercially viable.  What I'm interested in is the side effects.  I understand that this research allows for the mass production of a rare isotope of uranium, that, when exposed to animal cells, has the potential to slow down the aging process.  It was the misuse of this treatment that led to Professor Diktor's death, was it not?

Muon2: How did you know that?  We'd tried to keep that under wraps.

But yes.  The uranium isotope, when incorporated into a chemical compound that the professor's collaborators were working on, can be processed into a drug we call UGrow1000.  It has the potential to slow the aging process, though Professor Diktor recklessly tried to test it on himself, with deadly results.

But my interest remains in using this uranium for my time travel research.

Mitt Romney: I understand.  However, Bain is involved with a number of drug companies, and we'd like to continue to research this UGrow, to see if it can be used to slow human aging.  We could arrange to set you up with a job--

Muon2: No, I'm afraid I must decline.  If I'm to remain in the field, I'd like to focus on the actual physics research, not commercial spinoff applications.

Mitt Romney: If you remain in the field?

Muon2: Well, I have been considering moving to Illinois, and getting involved in Republican Party politics there.

Mitt Romney: I see.  Well, I'm no Republican.  Not while Reagan/Bush are in office.  I'm an Independent during the time of Reagan/Bush.

But my father, he was a Republican governor of the state of Michigan.  I do have some contacts in the Republican Party.  If you really want to go into politics, I might be able to help you open some doors.  That is....if you're also interested in continuing your research on UGrow.

Muon2: I continued to do time travel research, and produced more UGrow.  While I still thought it was dangerous, I provided it to a chemical company that Bain was heavily invested in, so they could do further research on it.  All of this was kept secret, because of the delicate nature of the research.

Winfield: During this time, I was actually living in the Romney household in the Boston area.  I was, of course, only a toddler back then.  But both of my parents were live-in servants.  My father in particular had had a long relationship with the Romney family, and was a general "fixer" for the family, and close confidant of Mr. (at that time, not yet Gov.) Romney.

In any case, I obviously didn't know about any of this at the time, but Mr. Romney was agitating for faster development of the UGrow into a usable treatment for aging.  It would have been a tremendous breakthrough, and extremely lucrative.  He'd already been burned on some other biological research on tree height in Michigan that hadn't gone anywhere, and this was his big chance.  So he took a bold risk, and secretly went ahead with animal testing of the UGrow, by testing it on his own dog, Seamus.

Seamus: The UGrow did in fact slow my aging.  But it also made me......INTELLIGENT.

[Cue the "Secret of Nimh" "Intelligent" remix: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7sW0U7Iu30&list=PLD-DVXy18jTRLpA-UDT3kQPaHjQ84iWRN ]

Seamus: I could suddenly understand human speech.....and I could even speak myself.  But I sensed the extent to which the humans around me were using me, experimenting on me, treating me like a lab rat.  I feared what would happen to me if I spoke in front of any of the adult humans.

Winfield: Seamus was acting odd, and so Mr. Romney decided to personally drive him up to a canine behavioral specialist in Ontario.....Dr. Bieber.

Hog: Excuse me, did you say Dr. Bieber?

Winfield: Yes, funnily enough, she would later go on to have a nephew, who would turn out to be one of the most famous Canadians of all time: Justin.

Seamus: They were going to send me to Canada, to have me checked out, but I didn't know exactly what was going on, so I took a chance....

[And we flash back to the flashback from the pervious episode....]

Seamus: OK then, here's what I want you to do.  Pick up that binder, and bring it to me here in this cage, so I can skim through it quickly, before anyone else enters this room.

[Winfield stares at the binder that Mitt Romney just dropped onto the coffee table minutes ago.]

Seamus: You heard me.  Pick it up, and bring it to me.

[Winfield picks the binder up hesitantly, then slowly marches it over to Seamus's cage, before sliding it through the bars to reach him inside.  Remarkably, Seamus, despite being a dog, is able to thumb through it quickly, and reads through the contents of the binder.  He appears to be taken aback by what he sees.  And then we transition to....]

Seamus: What I saw in that binder astonished me.  It was list of potential female veterinarians that he planned to meet with, in the event that Dr. Bieber became unavailable.  It was a binder full of women!

[Blondie stares blankly back at Seamus, not understanding the "binders full of women" reference.

Seamus: Never mind.  That joke was actually pretty lame, and this is serious business.  No, in seriousness, this is what was in that binder: Romney, along with a small cabal of close confidants within Bain, was planning to develop a nationwide network of secret canine research facilities.  Their goal was to perfect the UGrow, to develop it to slow the aging process in humans.  But there were concerns about the reactions they'd seen in the early tests on me.  The new theory was that the drug might work better if they could induce motion sickness.  And so this nationwide network of canine tests involved plans to........I can barely say it......put dogs in cages on the roofs of cars, and then drive them at high speeds.

The first such test involved putting me on the roof of the Romney family car on the way to Ontario.  I couldn't believe it.  What kind of monster puts dogs on cars?

In any case, we did indeed make the drive to Canada the next day, but I purposely ate some food poisoning, and got diarrhea.  When Romney stopped the car, to clean up the mess, I ran off.

[Mr. Morden]

[Cut to a shot of the Romney family car at a rest stop....Mitt opens up the cage, to clean off Seamus, but Seamus bolts, and makes a run for it.  Mitt tries to chase after him, but it's a lost cause.  Seamus is in excellent shape, and easily outruns his master.  The Romney sons are in tears, over their lost dog.]

Seamus: Yes, I ran for it.  I got away, and that was the last time I ever actually saw the Romney family in person.  Although that wasn't the official story that was told to the media.  The official story was that I lived with the family for many years afterwards.  But that wasn't what really happened.

Winfield: That wasn't what really happened, as former Atlas forum member Sam Spade explained to the forum years later, during the 2012 presidential election campaign....

Hog: Wait....Sam Spade?  We met him on our road trip, and I feel like he was trying to tell us something about dogs seeking refuge in Canada.....

[And we flash back to Episode 14....]

Hog: No husband.  It's just him and me traveling.  [points to Blondie]

Sam: Right, now I get it.  Man on dog. [looks at Hog, and then looks at Blondie]  So I guess you're trying to make it Canada then?  That's where freaks like you like to defect to, isn't it?

Winfield: Yes, he was the one who broke the true story about Seamus to the Atlas community on Jan. 31, 2012:

Mitt Romney may not have told the whole truth about the scandalous tale of his Irish Setter, Seamus, being strapped to the roof of his car during a 12-hour family road trip to Canada. According to a trusted Politicker tipster, two of Mr. Romney’s sons had an off-record conversation with reporters where they revealed the dog ran away when they reached their destination on that infamous journey in 1983.

Mr. Romney’s wife, Ann, has previously said Seamus survived the trip and went on to live to a “ripe old age.” As of this writing, Mr. Romney’s campaign has not responded to multiple requests for comment on this story.

Winfield: After Mr. Spade posted that, I tried to divert everyone's attention from this affair, but I may not have been successful:

These sorry attacks on Romney is what are sick, sick.

Get a life!

Seamus: In any case, I was so distraught by the experience.  I couldn't believe that my master....Mr. Romney.....would do such a thing....that he would put me on the roof of his car like that, when I was supposed to be a member of the family.

But I knew what to do next.  I went to find Dr. Bieber....

Dr. Bieber's office, interior

Seamus: Dr. Bieber?  I don't have an appointment, but I think there are a few things you should know about.

Dr. Bieber: My goodness!  I've been an animal behavioural specialist for decades, and I've never before seen a dog that could talk, eh?

Seamus: Please don't spread Canadian cultural stereotypes by ending every sentence with "eh?".  The fact that you included a "u" in "behavioural" was enough for me.

In any case, I think there's something that you should know about Bain, and your contact there, Mr. Romney.

Seamus: I explained everything to her, and she helped me get settled, in secret, in Canada, safe from the reach of Romney and Bain.

And I had a few tricks up my own sleave.  That is, my metaphorical sleave.  Dogs don't have sleaves.

I had swiped Romney's bank account numbers, passwords, etc.  I knew everything about the UGrow distribution process.  So I made a large bank transfer of funds to a new account I created in Canada, and also forged documents to get all of the existing supply of UGrow shipped there.  I had an ample supply of UGrow, which could keep me young for decades, as I continued to plot against Mr. Romney.  I suppose it was a large criminal heist, and my reputation grew in the criminal underworld, as "the Irishman".

(But the Canadian criminal underworld is fairly easily impressed, so don't read too much into that.)

Winfield: Mr. Romney was furious.  He couldn't believe that Seamus had escaped, and he didn't understand how someone--not realizing that it was Seamus at the time--had successfully drained the supply of UGrow from the company's inventory.

It was then that my father acted.  He knew that Mr. Romney badly wanted to prove that the UGrow could slow aging in humans, but it was too early to safely test it on humans.

But my father's devotion to Mr. Romney was unwavering!  He risked the health of his own son, to test the drug.

Hog: His son?  You mean he tested it on you?

Winfield: No, not me.  I was just a toddler.  He tested the UGrow1000 on my older brother, Hugo.

[We flash to a shot of Father Winfield feeding a pill to a 10 year old Yougo1000.]

Blondie: Wait, that kid?  The kid that I met yesterday in Oklahoma, who had me kidnapped?

Seamus: That "kid" is Winfield's brother Hugo.  Actually, his older brother.

Winfield: He was 10 years old back then.....but the UGrow1000.....it worked *too* well.  Apparently, if you take it before puberty, it not only slows down the aging process, but stops it altogether.  Even many years later, decades after he last took a dose of the UGrow, he still hasn't aged beyond 10 years old, neither physically nor mentally.

To hide his identity, to avoid explaining why he never aged, he eventually went by the name Yougo1000.....a joke on his part.  Mocking the drug that has stolen any hope of an adulthood from him.  He may be my "older" brother, but I look after him now.  And sometimes send him as my representative to trade for supplies with Space Biker gangs in Oklahoma and Kansas....

[And we flash back to:]

Blondie: Listen, kid, why were you out on the streets by yourself anyway?  It's dark.  Shouldn't your parents be watching you?

Yougo1000: I don't have parents.  I've been ten for a long time. 1933 Russia breaks up into three pieces and the western half merges with Poland to form the "Poland-West Russia Federation", or "POWER Federation".

Blondie: But someone looks after you?

Yougo1000: I have someone who looks after me.  But he's not in town.  I'm visiting on my own.  I help people out here, and they help me out. 1934 Hitler attacks the POWER Federation, but they stop him.  Hoover visits the Middle East for peace talks.

Winfield: In any case, when Mr. Romney learned that my father had recklessly tested the UGrow on my brother, and that it worked too well, that there was apparently no way to reverse the process......he shut down the program.

Seamus: Yes, I was successful in undermining the program.  Romney was embarrassed by the setback, and just wanted to move on to other things.  He remained in contact with Muon, but no longer requested him to produce more UGrow.

Winfield: That is.....UNTIL THE YEAR 1995.

Gov. George Romney had just passed away, and it was the day that his son, Mitt Romney, returned to Boston from his father's funeral in Michigan.

[Mr. Morden]

Summer 1995, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

[We see a teenage Winfield in the living room, going over his homework from his summer school, as we pan over to an open door, and push through the door, finding a study where Mitt Romney and his associate, Winfield's father, discuss the tragedy of Gov. Romney's passing.]

Father Winfield: I hope I'm not speaking out of turn here, sir, but I don't think I've ever seen you like this.

Mitt Romney: I can't argue with you there.  It's just that.....

I believed my father was a great man.  The Republican Party may not have had the wisdom to nominate him for president, but he otherwise achieved everything he could have wanted in life.

Father Winfield: You believeed, past tense?

Mitt Romney: Gosh darnit to heck, I'm just not sure anymore.  At one point, he seemed invincible to me.  But to see him whither away and die.....

Father Winfield: It's a fact of life, sir.  It'll happen to all of us....eventually.  If we're lucky enough to live that long.

Mitt Romney: No.....(as Romney begins to have a realization)....no, it doesn't have to happen to all of us.  I've been a fool.  My father may have been defeated by death, but I never will be!  I'm going to restart the UGrow project.

Father Winfield: So that you can put the drug into mass production?

Mitt Romney: No, at least not yet.  No, my father may have been defeated by death, and he may have been defeated by the Republican Party establishment in his quest for the presidency......

But I will be defeated by neither.  We're going to put UGrow back into production, and continue to research it, to make it safer.  But we're not going to sell it on a mass scale.  I'm going to take it myself.

Father Winfield: Sir?

Mitt Romney: That's right.  I may not have been elected to statewide office yet, but I can devise a strategy to put myself in the White House by the end of next decade.  And if I'm taking the UGrow, then I'll continue to be as energetic and vital as I am today, well into my 60s.

Father Winfield: Are you sure about this sir?

Mitt Romney: As sure as I am of the fact that I'd be better for gay rights than Ted Kennedy.

Muon2: After years in which the project lay dormant, I was contacted again by Mr. Romney about supplying more UGrow.

Seamus: Romney took the UGrow himself, but also restarted the experiments on dogs, much to my horror.  He wanted to perfect the drug, and continued to believe that canine experimentation was the only path forward towards refining it for safe use in humans.

I couldn't allow that.  But I was limited in terms of the amount of sabotage I could maintain.  It took me years to devise a plan, but I eventually managed to find the source of the UGrow....

Muon2: It happened when I was visiting the Illinois state legislature, getting some tips from legislators about running for office.

2002, Illinois state capitol building

[Illinois state Sen. Barack Obama is walking down the hall with Muon2, giving him advice on the political game in the state of Illinois.]

Obama: Aaaaaand so, you're going to want to live in the district that you represent.  Uhhh.....you should talk to my good friend Tony Rezko, he can set you up with some good real estate deals.  You'll also want to join aaaaaaa local church.  Uhhhhh.........perhaps the church that I attend, featuring Rev. Jeremiah Wright.

[Muon shakes Obama's hand, as he prepares to move on to his next appointment.]

Muon2: Thank you senator.  You've been a big help.

[As Obama leaves him, Muon knocks on the office door of another state legislator.]

Seamus: (voiceover, coming from inside the office) Come in!

[Muon enters the room, but is shocked to see a dog--Seamus--sitting at the desk in front of him, rather than the state senator he was expecting.]

Seamus: Dr. Muon, please don't be alarmed.  Yes, I am a dog, and yes, I am talking to you.  No, you are no hallucinating.

Now, I've taken a big risk by coming here today.  I've been living in Canada for nearly two decades now.

Muon2: You don't look that old.....for a dog.

Seamus: I've been aging slowly because I still have a large residual supply of the UGrow that you supplied to Mr. Romney.

Muon2: What?  How do you know about that?

Seamus: I'll explain.  I'll explain everything to you.  And if you're the kind of man that I think you are, then you'll agree to help me put an end to Mr. Romney's animal abuse.

Seamus: I explained everything to Muon, and tried to talk him into turning against Romney.

Muon2: I sympathized with Seamus's concerns, but I had a longstanding relationship with Romney, and couldn't end it immediately.  So I continued to supply Mr. Romney--who became Governor Romney later that year--with UGrow, albeit in smaller quantities than what he was accustomed to.  I made up some excuses about hiccups in my research.

Winfield: Mr. Romney continued to take the UGrow himself, and aged at a slower rate than normal for humans.  When he was elected governor in 2002, he was 55 years old, but had the appearance of a man in his mid 40s.

Seamus: Meanwhile, while Muon kept up the front that he was still an ally of Gov. Romney, we also set up a series of secret labs run by Xerox, dispersed across North America.  As "The Irishman", I still had connections to various multinational corporations, which I had built using the contacts I'd stolen from Bain.

Muon2: Using the lab space that Seamus provided to me, I was able to accelerate my time travel research.  Seamus wanted me to complete the device as soon as possible, as he intended to use it to bring down Gov. Romney's entire operation.

Winfield: Muon actually wasn't very good at hiding the fact that he was up to something.  Gov. Romney suspected that something was wrong fairly early on.  In February 2004, a member of the governor's staff alerted him that Muon had registered on an online political forum known as the US Election Atlas forum.  Suspicious, he asked me to register on the same forum, and keep tabs on Muon for him.  I was happy to oblige.  By this time, I was living on my own in Rhode Island, spearheading the governor's attempts at outreach to out of state businesses.  He'd hoped that I would have moved further out of state, but Rhode Island is as far away from the governor as I could bear to be.

At the same time, my brother Hugo, or "Yougo" as he was now called, moved out to the Chicago area with a phony foster family.  He was tasked with spying on Dr. Muon in person.

Seamus: By 2007, Romney was already running for president.  Continuing to take the UGrow, and looking as young as he had in many years.  The canine experiments continued.  And again, they largely succeeded in slowing the aging in the dogs, but there were too many unpredictable mutations.  The dogs did increase their intelligence.  But as far as I know, none of the others had the gift of speech, as I did.

But it was in late 2007 that Muon's work was finally complete.  He had completed a working version of the device.

Blondie: I see.  So you had a time machine, and you could use that to go back in time, and stop the experiments before they ever started?

Muon2: No, I'm afraid that wouldn't work.  Time travel doesn't work that way.  I mean.....have you seen the movie "12 Monkeys"?

Blondie: I'm just a dog, and am only a few weeks old.  Of course I haven't.

Muon2: Well, there are two different sets of rules used in popular fiction to depict time travel.  One is the "12 Monkeys" rules, and the other is the "Back to the Future" rules.  In the latter case, it's possible to change the timeline.  But that's not how time travel really works.  It actually follows what's called the Novikov self-consistency principle, as portrayed in the science fiction film "12 Monkeys".  It means that you can't actually change history.  If you go back in time, whatever you did back in the past was always part of history.  There's no way to change it.

The problem is that Winfield doesn't actually believe that this is true, and he's convinced that he can actually change history.....but I'm getting ahead of myself now.

Seamus: Yes, you are.  Let's get back to the story.  We had a working time machine at last.  But it's not just a time machine.  It's a spacetime machine, and can transport anyone to any place or time in the universe.  By this time, Muon was working with me, and from this very lab, we did the first tests of the device on human subjects.  Unfortunately, our first subject didn't survive the test.  Subsequent subjects did survive, but we soon discovered that the device causes memory loss in humans.

[Mr. Morden]

Winfield: Hog, you were the first test subject that they experimented on.  You were an employee of Xerox here in Salt Lake City, recruited to work on this project.  They put you in the device, tried to send you across the room, but you actually ended up in Oklahoma.  Because of the memory problems created by the use of the device on humans, you found that you couldn't remember who you were.  You wandered the streets of Oklahoma City, becoming a hobo, and apparently, according to my records, engaging in numerous orgies with your fellow hobos, eventually using the abandoned property owned by Bushie.  Eventually being intimidated by his frequent, once a week visits to the property, each of which lasted for a few minutes, you abandoned the use of the property, but swore vengeance against Bushie.

[Hog reacts in disbelief, as his entire life seems to make sense now.]

Winfield: At least, that's what my research team has been able to piece together.  I'm not sure that Seamus realizes that that test subject survived, or that he is you, but I believe that is your identity.

Seamus: In any case, while the use of the spacetime device created memory problems for humans, it had no known side effects on dogs.  So I had to act alone.

Blondie: Act alone?

Seamus: I had no need to use the time travel aspects of the device.  But like we said, it was a spacetime machine.  With stolen blueprints of the animal experimentation labs for Bain's affiliate companies, I singlehandedly broke into each of the labs, and freed all of the dogs.  Bain's canine experimentation days were done.

Winfield: Governor Romney was incensed.  By this time, it was January 2008.  He was campaigning in Jacksonville, Florida, and he said on camera "Who let the dogs out?  Who?  Who?":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDwwAaVmnf4

It was actually a coded message to his operatives at Bain to communicate his displeasure at the turn of events.

But despite the setback, he continued on with his campaign.  Though it wasn't quite the same after that.  He was distracted by the sabotage of the canine UGrow experiments, and botched a meeting with Florida Gov. Charlie Crist later in the week.  Crist then endorsed rival candidate John McCain, McCain won the primary, and the rest is history.  The governor's 2008 presidential hopes were dashed.

Muon was still nominally working with Gov. Romney.  Still supplying him with UGrow.  But with no canine research.....the tests of the drug as a means of slowing the aging process were dead in the water.

Nonetheless, the Governor continued to use it on himself, and it did allow him to keep his youthful appearance for yet another presidential run in 2012.....which unfortunately ended in defeat as well.

Seamus: And that's where things stood until June 2013, when I discovered that there was still one rogue Bain laboratory still in operation, in the state of Oklahoma.  I used the spacetime device to break into the lab, and free all of the dogs.  One of those dogs was *you*, Blondie.  You and the other dogs escaped into the Oklahoma wilderness and scattered.....but you were eventually found by Bushie, who decided to adopt you, after making only the most minimal attempt to look for your owner.

[Blondie's eyes go wide.]

Blondie: What?!?  They ran those experiments on me?

Seamus: Of course.  Haven't you ever wondered why you have human-level intelligence?  Haven't you ever noticed that you're a dog and yet you can somehow *talk*?

Blondie: I wondered, yes....but how am I supposed to know how these things work?  I'm just a dog.

Seamus: It doesn't work like this on all dogs.  But for the rare cases, like you and me, it not only slows our aging process, but increases our intelligence, well beyond the normal canine baseline.  I've been taking the UGrow for many decades now, and am now about 50 years old, give or take.  Yes, the aging process is finally catching up on me, as I can only cheat death for so long.  You'd cheat it too, Blondie, if you continued to take the UGrow, but it's surely been at least a few weeks since you took it last, so I don't know how long it'll last before it wears off on you, and you revert to normal canine aging and intelligence.

In any case, I destroyed that one final Bain lab, but security camera footage of the attack managed to make its way to Gov. Romney.  His investigators pieced together everything.  My work as the "Irishman" was uncovered, Dr. Bieber was interrogated, and they discovered my work with Muon.

Muon2: I was engaged in more time travel research with my summer student, PiT here, at that time.  But when Gov. Romney figured out what we had done, I cut off his supply of UGrow.  And then PiT, Seamus, and I all went into hiding from Gov. Romney.  And then later, after Mr. Romney's heart attack, from Winfield.

Blondie: His heart attack?

Winfield: By this time, my father was running the black ops programs within Bain.  One of the projects involved the genetic engineering of male/male hybrid babies.

Hog: Male/male hybrid babies?  I feel like I've heard this story before.

Winfield: You see, the governor and his lovely wife Ann were blessed by fate in that they produced five male heirs to carry on the family name.  Five sons and no daughters, such remarkable luck!

Hog: If you say so.

Winfield: However, not every wealthy family in this fair land is so fortunate.  Especially since smaller family sizes are now more common among the nation's elite.  What is one to do in the absence of a male heir to carry on the family line?

And so, in the early 2000s, the same Bain-funded company researching UGrow decided to invest in the creation of drugs for men that would selectively cause them to produce sperm with Y chromosomes exclusively, to insure that they had male heirs.  

This drug was successfully produced, using stem cells from aborted fetuses.  Which wasn't a problem for Bain, since Gov. Romney was staunchly pro-choice at the time.

However, this drug never went to market because of a logic problem.

Hog: A logic problem?

Winfield: Yes.  If every wealthy man produced only male heirs with his wife, then who would those sons marry?  Upper class men would be forced to either marry someone beneath their status, or go extinct within one generation.

The solution was simple.  We must invent the technology for male/male genetic hybrids.  And so, it was invented, by that same Bain-funded biotech firm.  The breakthrough was made in 2013, just after the Supreme Court mandated male/male gay marriages in the state of Oklahoma.

We created male/male genetic combo children just in time for that mandatory Oklahoma gay marriage ruling.

Hog: OK, but what does this have to do with anything?  You started on this tangent after saying that Mitt Romney had a heart attack?

Winfield: It was because of what happened afterwards.  The male/male hybrids grew to adulthood very fast.  They reached maturity within just a couple of years after birth.  The first such hybrid was Fredward.  He was our prototype, so we programmed a "back door" into his brain, so as to control him, if necessary.  That was in fact proved necessary, when I decided that I needed him as a figurehead to lead the Islamist insurrection.

Hog: Yeah, this is what I don't get.  If you're not an Islamist yourself, why are you helping them?

Winfield: To help create a crisis for this great country so extreme that only a President Romney could possibly resolve it.  I first started feeding the Islamists premium data from Dave Leip's US Election Atlas in the mid-2010s, just as their movement was gathering steam.  I hoped to create a groundswell of support for a 2016 Romney presidential campaign.

But Gov. Romney was too weak.

Without the UGrow, his aging resumed, at a very rapid clip.  He grew sickly.  And in fact.....once he realized how grim the situation was in America......he had a heart attack.  His heart ached for America, and America was in deep trouble.  We had him put into suspended animation, with the hope that, once Muon was found, we could secure more UGrow, and revive him.

I had to continue on.

I installed Fredward as leader of the Islamists, helping them to organize, using all of the demographic data that I had taken from the Atlas website.  I even kidnapped Dave Leip himself right out of his Massachusetts home, and have continued to use his expertise, long after the Atlas website itself was shut down.

I knew that Muon and Seamus were hiding somewhere in the western United States, and I wanted to lock down Islamist control of this region, in order to find them, even sending my brother Yougo out on expeditions to go looking for them, whenever I stumbled upon a lead.

Unfortunately, Fredward turned out to have a genetic defect, and he passed away within a few years.  However, it was at this time that Bushie was trying to make a move back to the United States.  He'd grown tired of exile in Kenya, but could not legally return.  But federal law doesn't mean much in contested areas like Salt Lake City.  The holographic projection system I had built, in order to replicate the image of Fredward, and make the rest of the world believe that he was still alive......it was designed by Rainbow Play Systems, and Bushie had a good deal of experience with their computer systems.  He's also been able to keep up with the maintenance on my robot servants.  His work ethic has actually improved quite a bit from the old days.  He was a promising hire, as he'd even helped us organize politically in Kenya.



In any case, I've been running the insurgency from various underground bunkers, scattered throughout the Rockies.  But this......this is the largest of them, by far.  This facility is actually an extension of the underground security headquarters built by Gov. Romney for the 2002 Winter Olympic Games.

[Mr. Morden]

Seamus: And that's the situation we've found ourselves in, these past many years.  We're stuck here, in this bunker.  In this bunker, we have the only working time machine that Muon has been able to construct.  But unfortunately, it isn't mobile.  We could use the device to escape, but we couldn't take it with us.  It would be left behind, vulnerable for Winfield to ultimately find it, and misuse it.

I foolishly tried to use the device on my own initiative, for my own selfish reasons, years ago, and it backfired.  In the hands of Winfield, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Muon2: But I'm afraid we're trapped here.  We dare not even attempt to power up the device anymore, as we believe that Winfield is close to tracking us down, and the radiation signature from the device could attract his attention.

Ideally, we'd like to dismantle it, and make our way to the Idaho border....eventually getting it to Canada, where custody of the device can be transferred to a group of international scientists.  But that now seems fanciful, given the military situation in this vicinity.....especially now that the US military appears to be making a large scale assault on the city.

Winfield: And that brings us to this week.  After all this time, investigating various leads on the location of Seamus, Muon, and the time machine, we finally chased down a most promising lead.  I believe they're hiding in a secret Xerox lab here in the Salt Lake City area.  But yes, as I said earlier, I needed two former Xerox employees in order to unlock the exact location of the laboratory.  I already had one on my payroll, Bushie.  But I needed another.  Yougo, who happened to be trading with the Space Bikers in Oklahoma, was investigating leads on other Xerox employees who might be living there, when something remarkable happened.

In the early hours of yesterday morning, I was awakened by Bushie, who had been secretly keeping his remaining Oklahoma friends updated about the weather there via his NSAbook weather app.  He identified a very curious weather pattern forming, which appeared to be a tornado traveling through time from the year 2013.  It didn't take him long to realize that, somehow, you and your canine friend were being transported through time to the present day from 16 years in the past.

In any case, NSAbook identified you as a former Xerox employee.  At that point, we knew that we had to get you here.  So Bushie concocted a story about communicating with you from the year 2035, guiding you to the time machine here.

Unfortunately, he also set up a parallel search effort for the device, enlisting the help of President Naso.  But Naso got impatient.  Rather than giving the effort the requested 48 hours, Naso gave up after 24 hours, and has now sent in "commandos" to take the city, who're now doing combat with the local crime lords, Mormon militias, Islamists, etc.  It's a real mess out there right now, and we're going to have to wait it out, before we try to move you and Bushie to locate the Xerox lab.

But the point is that I was always skeptical of the idea that the time machine might be real.  The reason I wanted it was to produce more UGrow, to make Gov. Romney younger again.  But now that I've seen that you and your canine friend are capable of traveling through time, well......

Maybe time travel is real after all.  Maybe that thing does work.  If it does, then forget about making Gov. Romney younger.  We can just go back in time, and alter the timeline so as to install him as president.

Hog: So you want to go back in time to....when?  Some point in the 2008 or 2012 campaigns?

Winfield: I haven't yet decided on the exact destination.  I did mention how Gov. Romney's distraction in January 2008 caused him to lose out on Gov. Crist's endorsement.  That is one possibility.  However, I'm not sure that 2008 would have been winnable for him.  I was actually hoping that Sen. McCain would pick Gov. Romney as his running mate that year, but he ended up choosing an Alaskan airhead.  I do think that the timeline could be altered to prevent that, allowing Gov. Romney to serve on the 2008 GOP ticket, setting up his own presidential campaign down the road.  This should be easily fixable, as Sen. McCain's oversight was precipitated by your own traveling companion, Mr. Twister, who was once known on the Atlas forum as "Aizen".

Hog: What?

Winfield: It was the evening of July 16, 2008.  Gov. Romney was on Sen. McCain's running mate short list.  I was visiting the Governor's Massachusetts residence, going over some preparations he was to make for his interview with Sen. McCain the following day.  During some down time, I browsed the Atlas forum, and found this thread, which had been started by Aizen:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=79279.0

Gov. Romney wanted to see what I was looking at on my laptop.

July 2008, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

Mitt Romney: What's this?  What are you looking at, Winfield?

Winfield: Oh.....uh.....nothing sir.  Hey, Governor.......perhaps we should think of some contingency plans in case Sen. McCain picks someone else.   Do you think the President can constitutionally drop the Vice President from the administration part way through the term if the Vice President has never been found guilty of breaking any law or done anything that would otherwise prevent the Vice President from carrying out his or her responsibilities, and is completely physically, emotionally, and mentally capable of carrying out the duties of Vice President?

In other words, can the President constitutionally drop the Vice President part way through the term simply because the President wants to or simply because the President wants a new Vice President?

Assuming all the above conditions in paragraph one are met by the Vice President, under what grounds can the President drop the Vice President part way through the term, if any?

Please discuss.

Mitt Romney: Don't be so evasive Winfield, I'm really interested in what you might be looking at.  It looks like some kind of internet forum, to discuss elections and campaigns and whatnot.

Winfield: (having now been caught out, and forced to tell the truth) Yes sir.  But don't worry yourself over this.  It's just some know-nothing from Colorado besmirching your good name.

Mitt Romney: Nonsense, Winfield.  You shouldn't be an elitist by calling such a person a "know-nothing".  Internet messageboard posters are people, my friend.  This gentleman has taken the time to register on a free website, and typed out an opinion that will be viewed by dozens of individuals around the world.  Surely, his take on the day's goings on is worthy of our respect.

[Romney points at the screen.]

Mitt Romney: Now look here.  This fellow has titled this message "Aizen's unbiased analysis of Mitt Romney".  Hear that?  That's exactly the kind of feedback from the common man that I'm looking for.  With such constructive criticism of my political skills, I can make a more effective pitch to Sen. McCain.

Now look, this fellow writes "bad".  OK, well, not what I was hoping for, but we'll see how he justifies this opinion.

The next word is "bad" as well.  And then "bad bad bad bad bad bad....".

What's this down here?  "LOL"?

Winfield: Governor, I'm afraid that stands for "laugh out loud".

[Romney's face is now ashen.]

Winfield: I'm sorry for showing you this, Governor.  I can't believe that there are such fools out there, who don't appreciate your greatness.  Speaking of that, I've always wanted to ask you: Were you born great, did you have greatness thrust upon you, or did you achieve greatness?

Mitt Romney: Oh.....well.....that's nice of you Winfield, but maybe we should move on.

Winfield: Reading that trolling post from Aizen sparked self-doubt within Gov. Romney, and he couldn't handle the interview with Sen. McCain the following day.

July 2008, McCain campaign headquarters, Arlington, VA

John McCain: Governor, I'm going to be honest with you.  I don't have much respect for you, my friend.  Your positions on issues seem to depend on what office you're running for, and whether it's an even numbered year or not.  If I don't like your opinion, I suppose I can just wait a couple of weeks, and see if it changes.  Perhaps your solution to the immigration issue will be to get out your small-varmint gun and drive those Guatemalans off your lawn.

But I may need you, nonetheless.  You can land a good punch in a debate against whoever that underqualified celebrity from Hawaii will choose as his #2 man, and I can use that.  I may hate you more than I did my Vietnamese torturers, but you might just be the right person to be my #2.  In fact, I realize that I can't look at you without thinking about #2, my friend.

Mitt Romney: Gosh Senator, you don't know how grateful I am to hear those words.  I mean, there are so many people out there who don't believe in me, and I....

[Romney begins to tear up.  He then grabs McCain's arm, as his emotions overcome him.]

Mitt Romney: There are a lot of people out there who hate me, John.  I just don't know if I can handle it.

[McCain looks back at him with a mix of confusion and disgust.  He can't believe the sorry emotional state that Romney appears to be in.]

Winfield: His emotional breakdown doomed his vice presidential hopes.  But if that time machine is real, we can fix his mistakes.  America will be a much better place than the hell that it has become.

So what do you think, Mr. Hog?  Will you help me find that time machine, and restore America to its greatness, by fixing the mistakes of either 2008 or 2012?  We can even fix the mistakes of your own life, and prevent you from becoming a hobo.

Hog: But....wait a minute!  The "hell that America has become"?  You created that hell.  You fuelled this insurgency and tore this country apart....for what?  Just to advance the political interests of a multimillionaire politician?  How many thousands?  millions? died because of you?  You're a madman.

Winfield: And what kind of lives would those people have had under Barack Obama, and all of the worthless presidents we've had since him?  You have to believe that American can do better.  Follow me to the better America that Gov. Romney….that President Romney will build.

Believe in America.

Win with Winfield.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[True Federalist (진정한 연방 주의자)]

GENIUS!

[World politics is up Schmitt creek]

HBO series when?

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 26 (2x06) "Sometimes It Is A Matter Of Picking Your Battles"

Winfield's bunker, interior holding cell

[Dave and Hog are in the cell, as Hog wraps up telling Dave the story of his conversation with Winfield.]

Dave: So you didn't agree to help him?

Thanks,
Dave

[Hog is agitated, and pacing across the room as he speaks.]

Hog: No, of course not.  I'm not going to agree to help that lunatic.  Not that that'll stop him.  He'll drag me at gunpoint to that Xerox building, and force cooperation out of me.

Dave: I see.  You won't willingly cooperate with User Number 287 because of the innocent lives involved?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: No!  That's not it.  Look, Winfield's a lunatic, and he's responsible for many deaths, but.....

....I'm not a hero.  I don't care about saving anybody.  I'm no Jack Ryan, Han Solo, Indiana Jones, Rick Deckard, or even Bob Falfa. I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas, and I just want to go get Toto and go home.

I don't really care who that nut installs as president, or how many people he massacres this year or the next or the next.  I just want to get back to 2013, live my life as a hobo, and maybe see if I can find a way to improve my lot in life.  You know, maybe I did have a life as a Xerox employee that I can get back to, if that is my real identity.  If I can't?  Well, then at least I can enjoy the simple pleasures of life.....like participating in orgies.  Heck, as a hobo, I probably wouldn't even live to see the year 2029, so what do I care?

No, the reason I won't agree to help Winfield is because he's a liar.  He's not going to help me get back to my time, I know that.  He'll use me, and then get rid of me, so as not to risk his plans to change history.

So yes, I have selfish reasons here.  What's your excuse?

Dave: What do you mean?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: You're up to your neck in Winfield's bloody war, from what he says.  He uses your demographic knowledge to fight off the US military.

Dave: Well, yes, I provide all of the data I have to anyone willing to pay the fee for a premium membership.  Now, as I am a prisoner here, User Number 287 doesn't actually let me access the money he claims to be paying me, but he has promised to do so whenever I'm released.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: And it doesn't bother you, what he's using that data for?

Dave: It's not my place to be partisan.  If someone wants to use my data to advance their political cause, whether that be conservative, liberal, libertarian, communitarian, or Islamist.....it wouldn't be proper for me to object.  I am just a neutral provider of information.  I provide data on American elections, and if I were to inject myself into the political process, or express my own partisan preferences, I would be compromising my own neutrality.

Thanks,
Dave

[Hog pauses and thinks for a minute, then retorts:]

Hog: OK.....fine.  You want to be a neutral provider of election information, I get it.  But what if someone was threatening the integrity of the elections?  What if you had the power to stop them from gaining a completely unfair political advantage, that subverted the will of the electorate?

Dave: Under those conditions, yes, I believe I would act.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Well then, listen to me, Dave.  Winfield wants to use that time machine to change history.  Why?  Because he wants to undo past elections.  He doesn't like the choices that the voters made, so he's just going to go back and change everything on his own.  How is that fair?

Dave: Hmmmm....a fair point.  I agree that his actions would undermine the democratic process.  I could be persuaded to act against him.  But what do you suggest?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: [his voice now low, so that the robot guards don't hear him] We escape.

You've been here a long time.  How can we get out of here, before Winfield comes back here, to take me to that Xerox building?  Any ideas?

Dave: Even if we made it out of this cell, I'm afraid I don't even know how to find the exit to this facility.  The facility is vast, and we could be lost for hours.  I have maps of every county in the country, but none of this building.

However, I do know that the holographic imaging chamber is three floors up.  Like I said earlier, User Number 1387, or "Bushie" as you call him, he comes to talk to me from time to time, and he's mentioned the location of that room.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Actually, that's not bad.  If we could make it to that room, we could send a hologram out somewhere, to get help.  It's worth a shot.  Plus, if we run into Bushie up there, I could finally hit him with a rock.

Dave: I still don't understand why you dislike User Number 1387 so much.  He's always been nice to me.  And he's had a hard life.  Multiple broken engagements, unemployed for many years, scratched by a cat which brought him to tears, forced into exile in Kenya where Kenyan children pointed at him and called him "Piggy"....

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Yes, OK, he's had some tough breaks.  And maybe he's had some real hardships since 2013.  But I listened to that "Update on tape" on the drive here, and I'm telling you.....he brings all his problems on himself.  He takes these absurd jobs, vacuum cleaner salesman, call center.....uh, what's the title for someone who works at a call center?  Call center phone answerer?  Anyway, he takes these jobs and learns useless skills that will never have any use later in his life, and then ends up getting fired, or quits over nothing, or.....I just can't respect someone who's thrown away so many opportunities.  He keeps failing, and his parents keep bailing him out.  If his parents hadn't been there, he would have had nothing to fall back on.  He'd be a hobo, like me.

But hey, at least he likes the Dallas Cowboys.  I'll give him that.

But other than that, I don't see any redeeming qualities in him.

Dave: Excessive hyperbole.  I would infract you now, if I could.

Thanks,
Dave

[Mr. Morden]

Hog: Actually, wait, infract me?  That's a good idea.  If you're the Atlas administrator, does that mean that you have the same powers that we saw in Nym?  Could you use those powers to get us out of here?

Dave: No, I'm afraid not.  User Number 11 (or as you call him, Nym) and the other moderators unlocked those powers from some obscure part of the forum software more than a decade ago.  I guess the powers remained with them, even after the website shut down.  But I can't unlock it within myself, without accessing the code from the Atlas.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Well, our traveling companion, Mr. Twister, showed us what he said was the last copy of Atlas.  But we have no way to reach him......

[Hog leans back against the cell wall in frustration, not able to think of a way out of this.  He puts his hands in his pockets, and then gets excited when he realizes what he still has in his pocket.  He pulls out a piece of paper.  We flash back to:]

[Twister pulls out a piece of paper and writes something on it, then hands the paper to Hog.]

Twister: This is the contact info for one of our agents.  She's one of the best of us.  If you get into trouble there, use this to call on her, and maybe she'll be able to help you out.

Hog: That's it!  Twister said that we should call on this young woman if we get into trouble, and I think this qualifies.

[Hog looks carefully at the piece of paper, ready to read off what it says.]

Hog: I feel a little silly saying this.  But I guess if those Moderate Heroes can do amazing things with these stupid chants, maybe I can too.

[Hog clears his throat, and then recites the text written on the piece of paper he got from Twister:]

Hog: By the power of "Shutter Island" and "Last House on the Left", I summon BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter, who's watched too many violent movies!

[And with that, the lights in the room are shot out.  We hear gunfire, and see three of the four nkpatel robots guarding Dave and Hog get shot, and fall to the ground.  In short, something like this scene from Kick-@$$ plays out, with BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter in the place of Hit Girl:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-SbnqIIkXQc

[The final nkpatel unit is much better at dodging bullets, and manages to survive BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter using up all of her ammo.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter then approaches nkpatel, and attempts to confront him with her wit.  The robot tries to reason with her:]

nkpatel1279: Looking at the Hispanic Southwest region.(AZ-11,CO-9,NV-6,and NM-5).  All of these are now Islamist, but if they returned to the United States, then NM-5 is Likely/Safe Democratic, NV-6 is Lean/Likely Democratic, CO-9 is Tossup/Lean Democratic. and AZ-11 is Lean Republican/Tossup.  However, this is using 2010 census numbers, because of absence of census in Western states in 2020.  Would require new census, which brings number of Arizona districts below 11....

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Lol!  You're actually predicting elections in states that have seceded?  Do you know how pointless that is, given that we know nothing of the demographics in those states now?

Here, I'll start a poll that you can answer:

What would you rather do on a Sunday?  Predict elections in imaginary districts, or go to a church that provides pot for first time visitors?

- predict elections in imaginary districts
- go to a church that provides pot for first time visitors (normal)

nkpatel1279: I......want to discuss elections......but I.......want to be normal..............CANNOT COMPUTE..........

[Smoke starts coming out of nkpatel's robot ears, and then BRTD's imaginary daughter knocks him over with a roundhouse kick, as his lifeless body collapses onto the ground.

The keys to the cell door are on nkpatel's body, and BRTD's imaginary daughter picks them up, and frees Dave and Hog.]

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: You called?

Hog: Wow, that was incredible.  I don't suppose you'd now be willing to help us get out of here, so I can find my dog Blondie, and we can locate the time machine that'll take us back to 2013?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Blondie?  You mean Bushie's dog from all those years ago, also named J.J.?

Hog: That's right.

[BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter sighs in disgust, and then turns around and walks away.]

Hog: What's wrong?  Where are you going?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Sorry, but I can't help you anymore.  

Hog: What?  Why not?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: My Dad showed me some of the arguments made on the Atlas forum by J.J.  Not the dog, but the poster.  I'm sorry, but I just can't respect anyone with that name anymore.  If you want to succeed on your quest, you'll have to find some other deus ex machina to help you do it.

[And with that, BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter walks out the door.]

Dave: OK, well, I don't think we need her anyway.  We should be able to make our way to that holographic chamber on our own, right?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Hold on a minute.

[Hog walks over to Dave's map table.  It was knocked over by all the gunfire, and a 3D map, with a large rock to represent one of the mountain peaks of the Rockies, has fallen to the ground, with the rock broken off from the map.  Hog picks up the rock, and takes a good look at it.]

Hog: If Bushie is in that chamber, I want to be ready for him.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 27 (2x07) "I Have An Interesting Development That Is Trying To Brew"

Salt Lake City city streets, exterior

[We see a raging battle going on on the streets....a multi-sided battle between US military commandos, Mormon militias, Islamists, and organized crime.  Then a fifth army sweeps in.....the Atlas moderators, newly arrived from Cheyenne Mountain.  Each of them displays considerable moderation powers, which makes them the most powerful fighting force on the battlefield.

Nym directs his fellow moderators, as they advance:]

Nym90: Try not to create any fatalities!  We want to get as many of them on mod review as we can, so we can question them, and locate that missing copy of the Atlas!

Secret underground Xerox lab, interior

[Muon and Seamus have just recently finished explaining their backstory to Blondie, when PiT calls them over to a TV monitor, where he's tracking the battle outside.

PiT (The Physicist) Look at *this*.

[The others crowd around the monitor, and Blondie immediately recognizes the moderators.

Blondie: I know them!  I just saw those guys last night, when they saved me from the Space Bikers!  Those are the Atlas moderators.

PiT (The Physicist) Their power seems to be considerable, and they're taking many prisoners from all of the opposing forces.

Blondie: Can't we use this to our advantage?  Isn't this the perfect distraction that would allow us to go rescue Hog?

Seamus: Rescue Hog?  No, don't be absurd.  We can't get into Winfield's bunker.

Blondie: Well, you said that you have a spacetime machine here, right?  It's not just time you can travel through, but it can take you to any location you want as well, right?  Why not use it to get over there?

Seamus: That facility is vast, and we don't have the blueprints.  How would we prevent ourselves from transporting ourselves right into a wall, and suffocating?

Unless......

Blondie: Unless?

Seamus: The bunker is a heavily guarded fortress.  However, there is a small thermal exhaust port, right below the main port.  The shaft leads directly to the reactor system.  A precise hit will start a chain reaction, which should destroy the station.  Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction.

Sorry, Star Wars reference.

Blondie: I don't know what that is.  I'm only a--

Seamus: Yes, yes.  You're only a dog, and you've never seen Star Wars.

Look, the point is, yes, there is a ventilation shaft that we know the location of.  Though to get from there to any kind of real access to the bunker would require you to dig your way through at least 30 feet of Earth.

Blondie: I'm a dog.  Digging through the ground is my specialty.

Seamus: But we can't let you do that, because powering up the spacetime device to get you there would attract Winfield's attention.  He could very well track us down here very quickly.

Blondie: But he'll eventually find you anyway, right?

Look, I'm just a dog.  I can't pretend to understand the risks you might face.  Though it seems to me that if we just sit here, then Winfield is probably going to end up finding you eventually.

What I do know is that I began this adventure with Hog, and we were soon joined by RickRoll.  And those two risked their lives to save me from those Space Bikers.  RickRoll paid for it with his own life, and it tears me up to know that there's no way for me to repay him.

But I *can* repay Hog.  This time, he's the one being held prisoner, and it's up to me to rescue him.  I hope you'll help me to rescue him.  We probably won't make it back here alive, but if we do......If we do, then I hope you're also willing to send us back to our own time.  You say that there's nothing that can be done to change history--that whatever we do in the past has always happened.  Well maybe that's so, but at least let us go back there.  Let us go back and live out our own lives in our own time, so that this machine can be used for some good.  And then, if it's too dangerous for it to fall into Winfield's hands, you can destroy it for all I care.  Maybe you can make your way to Canada on your own, and meet up with those international scientists, so you can rebuild it there?  I don't know if that's feasible, but you can try.

[Seamus takes a minute to absorb Blondie's heartfelt words.  And then…]

Seamus: Digging through 30 feet of earth isn't easy.  If you're going to try to break into Winfield's bunker, I'll go with you, at least until you make it through the entrance.

Muon, how soon can you have the spacetime device powered up, and ready to transport us over there?

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave and Hog are making their way down the hallway that leads towards the holographic imaging chamber.  They've been lucky so far, in not running into any more of Winfield's robots, but they now face a very long corridor, at the end of which is the imaging chamber.]

Hog: What's that ahead?  Not a robot, but a....person?

[We see someone stepping out of the imaging chamber, but the lighting is poor and he's cloaked in shadow.  But then he steps into the light, and we see that it's.......

....Bushie?

But that's him in the flesh, not the holographic version that we've seen before.  It's now clear that the hologram was masking his true appearance, as this Bushie has lost a good deal of weight, doesn't have glasses, has a very different haircut, no moustache, but instead a bunch of stubble so that he looks like......

he looks like......

but it can't be......

Hog falls to his knees as he comes to the realization, and screams:]

Hog: NO!  That's impossible!  It can't be!  I can't be!

[And we now get a series of flashbacks that foreshadowed Hog's true identity:]

Dave: Do I know you sir?  You look familiar.

Hog: It's not much, though I don't really like driving in snow...

Hog: But hey, at least he likes the Dallas Cowboys.  I'll give him that.

Hog: If he hadn't had his parents bailing him out all the time, he would have ended up like me, a hobo.

Seamus: Subsequent subjects did survive, but we soon discovered that the device causes memory loss in humans.

Hobo: I don't actually know my real name.  I have amnesia.  That is, everything before about 2008 is kind of a fog.

Dave: I still don't understand why you dislike User Number 1387 so much.  He's always been nice to me.  And he's had a hard life.  Multiple broken engagements, unemployed for many years, scratched by a cat which brought him to tears, forced into exile in Kenya where Kenyan children pointed at him and called him "Piggy"....

Hobo: Anyway, the only name I know is the one I've taken on for myself, Hog.

Hog: (to Bushie) Why you vile piece of.......you've been lying to us all along.  About everything!

[Hog stops in the doorway, to hear what Sam has to say.]

Sam: You'll believe anything, won't you?  You came in here, expecting me to tell you your future, because some idiot told you that I would?  There are many liars out there, and you'd better learn to recognize them, if you're going to survive.

Hog: And who are you suggesting is lying to me?

Sam: The biggest liar is yourself.

[Hog is now lying on the floor, rocking back and forth in disbelief.]

BushOK: I know you don't want to face reality, Hog, but it's true.  Winfield lied to you about your identity.  The truth is....I'm you.  You're me.  Or should I say....you're the me that I will become once I go back in time to 2008 and lose my memory.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 28 (2x08) "You Can't Give A Man Advice If You Render Him Unconscious"

[NOTE: At the end of the previous episode, we learned that Hog is actually Bushie, but displaced in time.  However, I'll continue to refer to "Bushie" and "Hog" as separate characters, to make things less confusing.]

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave and Hog are standing near the holographic imaging chamber with Bushie, who's just revealed to them that Hog is a future version of himself.  Hog is still in disbelief, rocking on the floor and muttering to himself.]

Dave: I knew Hog looked familiar to me.  Hard to believe I didn't figure it out earlier.  I guess my vision must be fading in my old age!

Thanks,
Dave

BushOK: Yes, he is me.  I know I appeared to him as a hologram these past two days, but that image was doctored to make me look more like my old self.

Let me explain.....

As you know, I was in Kenya when the gay marriage ruling came down, way back in 2013.  I fought extradition back to the US, but my legal fight was ultimately overshadowed by two events: First, the Islamist insurgency that swept the western US, and second, the increased popularity of Update, and the negative publicity this generated for me.

My father brought worldwide attention to Update, after he discovered that I had been posting every detail of my life online.  While Update had many fans, the majority disapproved of my life choices, and particularly blamed me for my treatment of my dog J.J., which apparently led to him running away.....though I now realize that his disappearance can be explained by the fact that he was sucked into a tornado that brought him here, to the year 2029.

Anyway, the negative publicity I brought to Kenya impacted my job prospects there, though I did eventually score a big payday when Dr. Pepper hired me to sing the promo song for their Kenyan ad campaign for Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, modeled after Tay Zonday's Cherry Chocolate Rain:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x2W12A8Qow

I was a celebrity in Kenya, but one with a very negative image.....like a Paris Hilton, or a Charlie Sheen, or a Walt Disney.  I did eventually find myself into something of a celebrity arranged marriage.  The Oscar-winning Kenyan actress Lupita Nyong'o had been working in Hollywood, but moved back to Kenya when Hollywood was taken over by Islamists.  We married, and we had......we had......

I had.....a daughter.  My wife, Lupita, was pregnant.  And we were to have a baby, and I'd never been so happy in my life.  But I took her to an Ameriplan hospital in Nairobi to deliver the baby, and the medical care there was subpar.  Not up to the high standards set by the Ameriplan facilities in the US.

My dear Lupita, and my little girl, both died during the childbirth.  I was so devastated that I couldn't even look at their corpses.

By this time, I was of course no longer writing Update, but Update's most ardent fans had become so starved for information from me that they took to following me around like groupies wherever I went, shouting Update catch phrases.

Nairobi, Kenya, 2018

[Bushie, more depressed than at any time in his life, leaves the hospital following the death of his beloved wife and stillborn daughter.

A pack of "Update" groupies surrounds him, and begs him for information.]

BushOK: (wiping away tears) I'm sorry my friends, but I don't feel like providing any updates today.

[The crowd boos Bushie for not giving them what they want.]

Random Update Groupie: Come on Bushie!  We're here to help you!  You owe us every scrap of information you can provide!  What were you doing in that hospital?  Brief relaxations?  CLeaning up the meat?

BushOK: My friends, it's really none of your business!  But if you must know, my wife and daughter just died.  The Lord has taken them away from me.

Update Groupies in unison: RIP Lupita.  RIP baby.

BushOK: You people are sick!  I pour out my heart to you day after day, and when I need help and encouragement, you just spout stupid slogans from Update?  I've had it!

[Bushie pushes his way through the crowd and runs off into the distance, as the crowd boos him for abandoning them.

Later that night, Bushie is alone, sitting on a hillside, looking up at the stars.]

BushOK: (in prayer) Father, I know that you have a plan for me, just like you have a plan for everyone, and it was your will that I move to Kenya.  You spoke to me, and I heard your voice, even though Inks never believed me.

But I feel like I've made a wrong turn somewhere.  This is the worst day of my life, and I have no one to turn to.  Because of Update, everyone either hates me, or they're just pretending to be my friend.  But they don't really care about me.  What can I do to escape this misery?

[Mr. Morden]

Back in 2029, Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

BushOK: After that, I tried to make a fresh start for myself.  I shaved my moustache, got that stomach surgery to lose weight, and got contact lenses, so I wouldn't have to wear glasses anymore.  I was basically unrecognizable to everyone, and the Update groupies were never able to locate me again.

I actually felt like I was making some slow progress with my life as the years went on.  OK, so I still don't know how to swim, but I don't think I'm as gullible as I once was, and I do have more dedication to my work.

Unfortunately, while I'm more dedicated to my job now, my new career may not be the greatest.

After some time, I felt like I had done everything that I could in Kenya, and I was itching to return to the USA.  Unfortunately, the legal situation made my return difficult, but I did manage to swing something.

Nairobi, Kenya, 2022, Bushie's bible study group

[Bushie is explaining his new career to his fellow bible studiers:]

BushOK: I have a new job!!!  For a while now, I have been corresponding with a website design and development firm who saw my resume on Career Builder about an opening for an Assistant Manager position.  The headquarters for this company is actually in Auckland, New Zealand, but I would actually be able to work at their branch in Salt Lake City, UT, which would allow me to return to the United States, since Salt Lake is no longer under the control of the US government.  It would offer much higher pay and pretty darn good benefits, including health and disability, vacation pay, sick pay, social security, and even workman's compensation, as well.  Right now, at Maisha, I am pulling in a measley $26,000 a year which may increase to $27,500 in 2023, but with this new company, I would be pulling in $54,000 a year, which is $4500 a month payable semi-monthly.  The hours would even be much, much better as well such as 9 am - 3 pm Monday-Friday.  They have already told me they want me and I'm now waiting on them to answer my specific questions.  They have already sent me the contract which I need to print out, sign, scan, and send back to them in an e-mail along with my ID.  They way it's looking now, I could be starting no later than August 31, which is only 6 weeks from this Wednesday.

Back in 2029, Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

BushOK: Unfortunately, I didn't think to check Hoover's or linkedin, and soon found that the company hiring me was something of a fraud.  It turned out to be Winfield, who tricked me into signing a contract that forced me to live here in this bunker, maintaining this computer systems relating to this bunker's holographic projection systems, and maintaining Winfield's robot servants, while having no contact with the outside world.  I am forced into staying here until such time as Mitt Romney is inaugurated as president of the United States, as per the terms of my contract.

However.........

In the very early morning hours of yesterday morning, I was awakened by an NSAbook weather alert, which alerted me to the tornado forming in Oklahoma, which I quickly recognized as being a time vortex connected to the same storm system in June 2013.  Our computer systems managed to identify two occupants of the storm system: One, my dog J.J., and the other......me.

[Bushie points to Hog.]

BushOK: Yes, I quickly recognized that one of the time travellers was a future version of myself.  And so, Winfield and I concocted this story that led me into manipulating the two time travellers to come here to Salt Lake City, since Winfield needed the future me to unlock the location of that Xerox lab.  Of course, I also had to disguise my appearance, appearing fatter, moustached, and glassesed, in order that they not realize that I was Hog and Hog was me.

But it was clear that Hog was in fact me.  So what does that mean?

Well, between the existence of this time travelling tornado, and "Hog's" appearance here, it means that time travel does exist, and so I'm assuming that Muon's time machine is real.  And apparently, at some point in the near future, I will travel back in time to 2008, lose my memory, become a hobo, etc., etc.  I'll become "Hog".  I have to assume that what happens is that Winfield and I try to send me back to that year to fix things up for Gov. Romney's presidential hopes, and something goes wrong, so that I get amnesia, and end up on the street.

But here's the thing.  Now that we know that's what happens, why can't we change it?  Why can't we be more careful this time, and prevent me from losing my memory?  Maybe we can send some of these robots with me or something, I don't know.

Because if time travel exists.....well, I just can't believe that God would make it so that you can't change anything, like in 12 Monkeys.  That would be a cruel joke.  Because if I *do* get a chance to travel through time, then the first thing I want to do in the past (after I fulfill my contractual obligation by getting Mitt Romney elected president) is to shake some sense into my younger self so that I don't end up failing at so many things over and over and over like I did the first time around.

And actually, the biggest thing I want to tell my younger self to do is to never start the Update thread.  That thread caused me so much pain, misery, embarrassment.......

I mean, I want to make sure that that thread is never created--and that the gay marriage Supreme Court decision never happens, which shouldn't be a problem, since Winfield promised that a President Romney elected in 2008 would appoint strict constructionist judges.

I just have to believe that even though everything that happens is part of God's plan, that sometimes God decides to change his mind, and lets you go back to make your life better.  That's what's kept me going these past few years, and that's what---

[**THWACK**

Bushie is struck in the head by a rock, and his bloody body falls to the ground.  He's still breathing, but rather seriously injured.

Dave looks back at Hog, who apparently threw the rock at Bushie.

Dave shoots Hog a dirty look, but Hog just shrugs it off.]

Hog: I'm sorry.  Yes, I know he's "me", but I just couldn't listen to him talk any longer.  I've been waiting for so long to hit him with a rock, and I don't regret it.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[True Federalist (진정한 연방 주의자)]

Looks like it wasn't the time travel that did the brain damage.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 29 (2x09) "The Day Always Begins At Midnight"

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Nym and Inks are looking over a map of the city in the middle of the room, plotting their next move.  Nym points to various locations on the map, as he opines:]

Nym90: I want Master Jedi and Mr. Moderate to push forward from this location.  We have to sweep out the remaining enemy forces in the inner suburbs--

[Nym is interrupted by Beet, who now enters the room, gripping Twister by the arm.]

Beet: I have a new prisoner for you here, sir.  Someone who I thought you might know.

Nym90: Well, well, well.  Mr. Twister!  Or should I say....Aizen?

[Twister morphs into his alter ego, Aizen.]

Aizen: Yes, yes, you caught me.  What do you want, a cookie?

Inks: What are you doing here?  I don't remember any of your sock accounts ever coming from Salt Lake City.

Aizen: I came for the skiing.

No, seriously, whatever I tell you, you're not going to believe me anyway, are you?  You're just going to hound me to try to find any inconsistencies in my story, just like you did with my sock accounts, aren't you?

Inks: I was only ever interested in uncovering the truth.

[And we flash back to:]

IIRC, Inks spent the first month of The Professor's tenure here hounding him for information on his academic credentials.

I enjoy trying to catch people in a mistake that gives them away.  At least now the case is settled, even if I wasn't the one to crack it.

Aizen: Well look, we can sit here all day and debate who's telling the truth and who's lying, or who lies about lying, or who eats grapefruit for breakfast, or who ran over whose dog back in high school....but that's not what I want to tell you about.

I allowed myself to be taken as your prisoner, because I think there's something that you should know, that I think only you have the power to act on: The leader of the Islamist insurgency isn't Fredward, as you've been led to believe.  It's actually someone who was a frequent poster on the Atlas forum many years ago: Winfield.  And he's right here, in Salt Lake City.  He's holed up in large underground base, which you can find underneath the Olympic Park, constructed for the 2002 winter games.

Nym90: Winfield?  Can this be true?  If he's the leader of the Islamist insurgency, then he's one of the biggest perpetrators of personal attacks in modern history!  And we didn't infract him for all those posts in which his gushing Mitt Romney fandom constituted excessive hyperbole when we had the chance.

Beet: Sir?  Isn't this a bit of a distraction?  We came here to find the last copy of the Atlas, didn't we?

Nym90: Yes, of course we did, Beet.  And that's still the priority.  You should continue to guard the prisoners, while the rest of the moderators work on clearing the city, hunting down and capturing anyone who might have an idea as to where that copy of the Atlas might be, so that we can interrogate them.  Inks, I want you in charge of interrogations, beginning with Aizen here.

But as for me.....I'm going to find Winfield.  If he became a terrorist leader because we let him get by with minimal punishment for his transgressions on Atlas.......well then, this is on my head.  It's my responsibility to deal with him.

Inks: But you're going after him by yourself, sir?  That fortress must be heavily guarded.  It sounds dangerous.

Nym90: No, I won't go alone.  I'll take one other.

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter is searching through the bunker, looking for a way out, when she stumbles upon Yougo1000, who was on his way to pick up some new crayons for map coloring.]

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Excuse me kid, I was summoned by two hapless fools to help them with a jail break, but now I'm just trying to find my way out of here.  Can you show me where the exit is?

Yougo1000: How did you get here?  They don't allow kids in here.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: They don't allow kids here?  What about *you*?

Yougo1000: I'm special.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Oh yeah?  Well I'm "special" too.  I'm imaginary.  Eternally trapped in the form of a 10 year old girl, waiting to be summoned to help the helpless by inflicting R-rated violence on their tormentors.

Yougo1000: You've been 10 for a long time?  Me too!  We should be friends.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Ugh.  Please no.  Just tell me how to get out of here.

Yougo1000: OK, well, I only know the long way.  So it could take us a couple of hours to reach the exit from here.  That would be past my bed time, but I'll walk you there, because I'm so excited to have a new friend.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Ugh.  I'm going to regret this.

[Yougo starts walking down the hall, and BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter begins to follow him.....reluctantly.]

Yougo1000: In honor of our new friendship, I'll write a timeline about a president who doesn't age.  1960 A young George Romney is elected president and uses Albert Einstein's relativity theory to run really fast and slow down his ageing.

[And we fade to….]

underground passageway, 10 feet above a ventilation shaft to Winfield's bunker

[Blondie and Seamus are furiously digging away, trying to reach the ventilation shaft, to give them access to the bunker.  Seamus suddenly receives a call on his cell phone.]

Seamus: (to Blondie, before answering the call) It's Muon.

[Seamus presses a button to receive the call.]

Muon2: (voiceover) Seamus, can you hear me?  The EMP is preventing us from communicating with the outside world, but cell towers within the city itself seem to be functioning at some level.

Seamus: What EMP?  What are you talking about?

Muon2: (voiceover) The US military.  Just after you and Blondie transported over there, I managed to decode the military transmissions that we were intercepting.  The commandos had come in, and were making a big push against the Islamists, the Mormon militias, and the crime syndicates, but then when the Atlas moderators swooped into town, their powers were too great for the commandos to counter.

Now the Pentagon apparently thinks that there must be some kind of new superweapon at work here, given how powerful these Atlas mods have become.

Their commandos are seriously outclassed, so they've ordered a withdrawal of their forces from the city.

Seamus: But that's good, isn't it?  If they were losing to the moderators, then their withdrawal will mean less bloodshed.

Muon2: (voiceover) It isn't good, Seamus.  They're withdrawing, but they're also blanketing the city with an EMP attack.  I can apparently communicate with you within the city itself, but all lines out of the city are dead, the internet is down, and I can't power up the spacetime device anymore.  We're isolated here, with no way of communicating out of the city to ask for help.

Seamus: Why do we need to ask for help?

Muon2: (voiceover) The order for the EMP is a prelude to a new attack.  Given the apparent high level of resistance the commandos ran into here, and the new technology they were up against, President Naso has ordered a nuclear strike against the city.


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

This seems as good a time as any to give an update (ha!) on the status of this story, in terms of how far along we are.  When I posted Episode 20, I said that I was splitting the story up into two "seasons" of 20 episodes each.  I figured the second season would also have about 20 episodes, which would mean 40 episodes total.  But I was unsure about the exact number.

Well, now we're 9 episodes into the second season, so 29 overall so far.  I do have notes in bulletpoint form which tell me what each scene is from now until the end of the story.  I don't know what the exact number of remaining episodes is, but if the episode breaks line up where I have them preliminarily slotted, then there are 11 episodes left (so we would indeed go to 40 episodes), however I also have an epilogue planned, which will probably be long enough to count as an extra episode.  But that's very preliminary, and I've underestimated how long things would go before.

You could also think of the story as a 3 act play, in which case we're surely getting into Act 3 now.  Maybe we already did after the big exposition episode (25), or maybe after Bushie's exposition episode (28), but if not, then surely the reveal of an imminent nuclear attack sends us into the third act.  From here, we build up to the climax, which will take place around ep # 34-36 or so, and then the remaining episodes are dénouement.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 30 (2x10) "I'm Pretty Excited About The Interview"

underground passageway, 10 feet above a ventilation shaft to Winfield's bunker

[Blondie and Seamus have taken a break from digging, as Seamus has taken a phone call from Muon.  Muon has just informed Seamus that the US military is preparing a nuclear strike on the city.]

Seamus: Why would they do that?

Muon2: (voiceover) Like I said, after the commandos ran into those Atlas moderators, they got spooked by the superpowers the mods were showing off.  Naso's now convinced that the city must have some high value targets, but doesn't think that conventional weapons will be enough.  So he's turning to nuclear weapons.

Seamus: How much time do we have?

Muon2: (voiceover) You know in the movies, how they often have a ticking clock, where they know exactly how many seconds are left until disaster?

Seamus: I don't really watch movies, but yes, I understand the concept.

Muon2: (voiceover) Well this isn't like that.  We presumably have a few hours, but I don't have an exact number to give you.

Seamus: What about evacuating the city, or contacting Naso, to plead with him to spare the city?

Muon2: (voiceover) All communication outside of the metro area is blocked by the EMP.  We can't reach the president.  The EMP also prevents me from powering up the spacetime device.  We could drive away, and hope we can get far enough away before the bombs hit, but there are hundreds of thousands of people here, all in different factions who want to kill each other.  And the Atlas moderators control the streets.  How do we even convince them that there is a danger, let alone organize an evacuation?

[Seamus thinks for a few seconds.]

Seamus: OK, here's what we'll do.  You keep monitoring the situation from there.  See if you can figure out any way to get the time machine working.  Blondie and I will keep digging, and we'll make our way into Winfield's bunker.  I'm going to pray that Winfield has the technology somewhere to be able to contact the outside world, even with the EMP.

Muon2: (voiceover) And what are you going to do with it?

Seamus: I'm going to have to convince Winfield to surrender to US authorities.  If we can convince Naso that it's really Winfield who's been running the Islamist insurgency, then, well....he's got himself the highest value target imaginable, if Winfield surrenders.

Muon2: (voiceover) You actually expect Winfield to surrender?

Seamus: I'll have to convince him to do so.  There's no other way.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[The room is enormous, with a giant TV screen at the top of one of the walls.  We see Nym blast his way through the front entrance using his mod powers.  He slowly walks into the room, and we see that he's wearing a backpack.

He makes his way to the center of the room, and spins around slowly, looking for any sign of activity.  He then shouts out into the air....]

Nym90: Your fortress was easy for me to find, Winfield!  Don't know why no one's ever found it before.  Now come out here, so I can issue your infractions!

[The TV screen turns on, and Winfield's face is projected from above.]

Winfield: (on screen) My dear friend,

Lest any be misled, please allow me to clear up any misconceptions you may have about your situation.

With the aid of my spy network, I have managed to observe your exploits throughout this fair city.  I note that you and your moderation team have demonstrated tremendous prowess on the battlefield.

However, in this fortress, I am the "modadmin", as you might say.  I maintain control over a potent fighting force, and I have every intention of defending myself.

Nym90: So it is true?  You're leading the Islamist insurgency from this bunker, eh?

Well then, surrender Winfield, and I may allow you a five day stint on mod review before grounding your body into dust.

Winfield: (on screen) All this fuss over yours truly?  Why, what have I ever done to deserve your scorn?

However, if you insist on engaging in vigilanteism, and attempting to "bring me to justice", or whatever euphemism you desire, then as I say, I must defend myself.

[The TV screen turns off, and the room goes dark......but then we see it start to light up again as Nym finds himself surrounded, with pbrower2a robots slowly closing in on him from all sides.  They begin to speak.]

pbrower2a(#1) Interesting point, but if you think about it, these five opinion polls only indicate that since 1900, no Presidential nominee has won between 57.1% (Truman 1948) and 66.5% of the electoral vote (Taft 1908). That is 34 elections, with major changes in the ethnic composition of the electorate, population shifts between the states. the presence or non-presence of women in the electorate, five states being added to the Union, and the electoral representation of the District of Columbia, as well as the secession of states from the Union due to the ongoing Islamist insurgency in the west. Add war and peace, the business cycle, polling, and new technologies associated with campaigning, and the gap remains.

The gap of 49 electoral votes is huge; it's bigger than the number of electoral votes of any state except California. California hasn't been the winning margin in any Presidential election since at least 1900, and is unlikely to play a major role in presidential politics for some time, due to the Islamist takeover.

pbrower2a(#2) An explanation: campaigning politicians close to winning seem to play it safe even if they are behind. They do more advertising, make more campaign appearances, and push GOTV drives in states on the margin of victory. They don't dare risk losing any votes that they already have, as that could put the election out of reach. With a little luck and some shrewd electioneering a candidate slightly behind his opponent in early October might pull off a seeming miracle.  A candidate barely winning might simply play it safe. A candidate who thinks that he has 280 electoral votes lined up isn't going to take undue chances and try for 320 or 330 at the risk of losing such a state as Michigan.

pbrower2a(#3) Not so fast. Republicans have different priorities in spending; they heavily support business subsidies and war profiteering. Low taxes? They simply don't raise taxes on the rich, but they usually find ways to shift taxes onto the non-rich. Waterboarding is torture, and when we torture we lose our moral credibility. People who ordered, authorized, or covered up waterboarding belong in a federal prison, ideally with fellow terrorists such as those that we have arrested for involvement in terrorist acts against the United States and its citizens.

pbrower2a(#4) Moral values? Like crony capitalism, Jack Abramoff's rip-offs of Indiana tribes, lying about weapons of mass destruction to start a war (a war crime in itself!). Of course I already mentioned waterboarding. There have been some credible reports that some of the so-called suicidal hangings at  Guantanamo were in fact manual strangulation -- hangings don't break the hyoid bone, but strangulation invariably does, which is one way in which some murderers are proved.  The outing of Valerie Plame Wilson after her husband contradicted the President's lie that Iraq under Saddam Hussein had prohibited weapons and weapons programs in 2003. Aldrich Ames and Robert Hanssen rightly rot in a federal prison  for betraying American intelligence agents to the USSR and Russia for personal gain -- shouldn't people rot in prison  for betraying American intelligence agents so that they can corrupt the political process?

[Nym looks around him, and now sees no fewer than 20 pbrower units moving in on him, all spouting such inanities as those transcribed above.  But he doesn't panic.  He takes off his backpack, opens it up, and pulls out a contraption inside.  Pressing a button on the device, it unfolds into Iron Man-like battle armor, which Nym becomes encased in.]

Nym90: Time to infract some spammers.

Winfield's bunker, holographic imaging chamber, interior

[Dave and Hog are furiously flipping through manuals, trying to work out how to activate the holograms.  Bushie's limp body is slumped on the floor.  They apparently dragged it into the room from the hallway, where Hog had pelted Bushie with a rock, and knocked him cold.

Dave gestures over at Hog, as if he's about to say something.]

Hog: Don't.  Don't start with me again.

Dave: I would just like to point out that User Number 1387 knew how to use this machine.  And if he were conscious, he might be able to assist us.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: And what makes you think he would have helped us?

Dave: So you don't believe that he's really you?

Thanks,
Dave

[Mr. Morden]

Hog: Oh no, I believe it.  I mean, I don't want it to be true, but look at him.  He is me.  Can't deny that.

But I would still never trust him.

No, we ask him to help us, and he'll betray us, just like he did before.  Maybe that is my past self.  Maybe I once was Bushie, as terrible as that may be to imagine.  But if so, then that part of me is dead.  There's just Hog now, and there's no going back.

[Dave has already tuned out Hog's words, as he seems to have stumbled across something in his reading of the technical manuals about how to operate the holograms.]

Dave: Ah ha!  This should do it.

Thanks,
Dave

[And with that, Blondie enter the room.]

Hog: Blondie?!?  I can't believe it's you!

[Hog rushes over to hug Blondie.....or, hug?  pet?  whatever is the normal way for a man to show affection for a dog.]

Blondie: And I can't believe I actually found you.

Hog: How did you get here?  What are you doing here?

Blondie: I was brought here by, well, the "Irishman".  It's a long story.  We snuck in here together, and split up.  He went off looking for Winfield, going to try to convince him to surrender to US authorities.

[Blondie pauses, and then points over to Dave.]

Blondie: Who's your friend here?

Hog: Oh, that's Dave.  And this--

[Hog points down at the unconscious Bushie.  Blondie reacts in shock when he sees that the Bushie of 2029 actually looks remarkably like Hog.]

Blondie: Wait, what?  Ummm....you do realize that that's.....

Hog: Yes, he's me.  I'm Bushie.  It's probably as long a story as your "Irishman" story.

Dave: Listen.  I don't mean to interrupt, but I believe I now understand this manual well enough to operate this device. I think I can get this holographic system working now, though it looks like it'll only be able to transmit within a fairly local radius within the city.

Thanks,
Dave

Blondie: Yes, apparently the US military is jamming any signals outside the metro area.

[Dave now brings up a holographic display of the city streets outside, which features several shots of his former moderators engaged in battle with local militias.  Dave frowns at the sight of it.]

Dave: I can't believe this.  I gave them those moderation powers to safeguard the Atlas forum.  I never intended for them to use them in such a manner.  I guess I'm going to have to put a stop to this.

Thanks,
Dave

[Dave punchs a few buttons at the controls of the holographic imaging chamber, then steps into the interior of the chamber, and begins recording a message to the moderators, which is then transmitted to their cell phones.  The message is composed in Leip-style, as a letter to his moderators.  We flash to several moderators around the city.....Master Jedi, Joe Republic, Badger, AndrewCT, etc., stop what they're doing when they hear their phones ring, pick up the phones, and then view Dave's message, which is as follows:]

Dave:

Hi,
It's come to my attention that many of you have been using your moderation abilities in a manner that is not wholly consistent with their intended usage.  The purpose of the moderation powers that have been granted to you is to moderate the Atlas forum.  As the Atlas forum no longer exists, my preference would be for you to desist from using these abilities immediately.

A few potential abuses of said powers seem particularly egregious.  For example, I do not think it is appropriate for any of you to place anyone on moderator review who has not signed up for the forum nor agreed to the Terms of Service.  More importantly, I do not think it appropriate for any of you to use your powers to execute another human being for any reason whatsoever.  There are plenty of other places on the web where this is allowed, but it is not consistent with the vision I have for Atlas and its moderation team.

At this time, I would like for all of you to meet me in Winfield's bunker as soon as possible.  I will text you the coordinates in a followup message.  When we're all here, we can discuss the future of Atlas moderation in a post-Atlas world in greater detail.  In the meantime, if any of you have any questions, the easiest way to contact me is by email.

Thanks,
Dave

[And the message ends.]

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Inks has been interrogating Aizen, now in the guise of "The Professor" for some time now.  He is currently questioning The Professor's academic credentials.]

Inks: And where did you do your graduate studies?

The Professor: You're still very young, and I don't think the youth of today should be spoon fed such answers.  You'll get farther in my class if you work these things out on your own.

Inks: And what class is--

[Inks is cut off by his phone ringing.]

The Professor: I never allow such disruptions in my classroom.  I know how to create an environment conducive to successful instruction, which is why I am a professor.

[Inks mutes the phone without looking to see who is calling him.  Then places the phone on the chair next to him.]

Inks: No distractions here.  Now, let me ask you a few more questions.  I know you're going to slip up soon and reveal the truth, as I don't buy for a minute that you're actually telling the truth about this "classroom".

[And we pan down to Inks's phone, which shows "Dave Leip" on caller ID.  It rings away on vibrate, as Inks ignores it.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 31 (2x11) "I Can't Really Stand Up For That Long"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[The robot corpses of all the pbrower units are strewn across the room as Nym is triumphant.  Only one of them remains (barely) active, struggling to its feet, as it continues to offer non sequiturs to Nym.]

pbrower2a: Modern campaigns are now done by air, so being near a major air hub (O'Hare International Airport is about as big as there is) is a huge advantage for the President and his staff -- and the efficiency and co-ordination of staff are both essential to an effective campaign. Such may matter less for a VP candidate who doesn't have much control of the logistics of campaigning for anyone but himself.  The state now matters less than does proximity to an air hub.  Thus, I believe that a small state senator is at a distinct disadvantage in the so-call "veepstakes".

Nym90: That's preposterous.  No sentient being could believe that.

5 points for trolling.

[Nym lets out a burst of red electricity, which envelops the pbrower unit, and causes it to crash to the ground, shattering into many pieces.

Nym now looks up at the TV screen at the top of the wall in front of him, and yells out....]

Nym90: Is that all you have to throw at me Winfield?

[Winfield's face reappears on the screen.]

Winfield: (on screen) Not at all, my dear friend.

I will say that your fighting prowess is formidable for a Democrat.

But alas, I cannot imagine a scenario in which you achieve victory today.

Not when you have yet to fight the greatest champion of all.......pbrower2b!

[A giant robot....a much larger version of the pbrower2a models, who towers over Nym at about 15 feet tall.....approaches Nym from out of the darkness in front of him.  This robot, apparently named pbrower2b, has a D-MI avatar on his torso, matching that of Nym himself.]

Winfield: (on screen) You see, after years of examining tissue samples from the good Mr. Leip, not to mention by loyal employee BushOklahoma (who was himself once an Atlas moderator), my robot design team has managed to harness the power of Atlas moderation to create this, a worthy cybernetic opponent for the Atlas modadmin!

He can match you infraction point for infraction point, anticipating your moderation decisions before you even realize you've made them!

Farewell, dear Mr. Nym90.  Just remember these words when my cybernetic servant infracts you into oblivion: The Winfield legacy lives on!

[The TV screen again shuts off, and Nym is left to face pbrower2b without any further taunts from Winfield.  The two combatants circle each other uneasily, until pbrower2b breaks the silence:]

pbrower2b: I have seen the GOP do it so often in recent times -- find a stealth candidate and have him affect a populist veneer while concealing his loyalty to people who would turn America into the sort of country in which 90% of the people suffer for 5% and the other 5% are the enforcers of the will of the ruling elite. That's the sort of country many of us had ancestors who fled from -- like Imperial Russia or the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Sicily, feudal principalities in Germany, or Ireland during the potato famine.

[Nym90 desperately searches his memory for any sign of an infractable offense.  Until he finally stumbles upon...]

Nym90: You took most of that from a Lunar post from 2010, who was in turn impersonating you!  3 points for copyright infringement!

[Red electricity flows forth from Nym's hands and encircles pbrower2b, but pbrower2b gives him feedback, and the damage is redirected onto Nym, who winces in pain.]

pbrower2b Abuse of moderator authority for a board that you did not moderate in 2010, 3 death points are redirected.

Now, I will provide three possible maps for the 2032 presidential election, and you will correctly identify which contains excessive hyperbole, lest you be entrapped into hitting me with a personal attack.....

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Winfield is pressing at some buttons in this control room, giving remote instructions to pbrower2b as he battles Nym.  He then hears a familiar voice behind him....]

Seamus's voice: Winfield!

[Winfield turns around to see his old nemesis, Seamus.]

Winfield: Incredible!  I have spent many years searching for you, my dear canine companion.  Never did I imagine that you would surrender yourself to me in this fashion.

Seamus: I'm not surrendering, Winfield.  I'm here to get you to surrender yourself.

Winfield: I'm sorry, but for some unfathomable reason it sounded to me as though you thought that you were the one with leverage in this conversation.  Here, in my own domain?  Why would you expect me to surrender to you?

Seamus: Not to me, Winfield.  To the US government.

This looks like a pretty sophisticated base you have here Winfield.  I imagine that you've intercepted the same transmissions we have.  You must know about the impending nuclear attack.

Winfield: My loyal robotic servants have in fact informed me of this, yes.

Seamus: Well you are smart enough to realize that this fortress isn't strong enough to survive such an attack, aren't you?  We need to get them to call it off.  And the only way I can think of to do that is for you to surrender.  If we can convince President Naso that you really are the leader of the insurgency, then maybe your surrender will be enough to get his forces to stand down.

Winfield: My surrender?  The humble administrator of this facility that you see before you?

Well, isn't it masterful to see that you view me as holding such importance?

Imagine, that my decision to surrender might determine the life or death of the people of this fair city!

What have I done to have such an honor (or curse) bestowed upon me?

Seamus: I'm serious Winfield.  Now come on.  I know the EMP has knocked out communications with the outside world, but you must have some kind of gadget here that'll help us contact the Pentagon.

Winfield: My dear friend, as I have already suggested, I have no intention of giving myself up to an illegitimate government, led by such a red-headed airhead as the one who currently occupies the oval office.

Seamus: Illegitimate government?  What is wrong with you?  Look, Winfield, I understand that you think this is all for a noble cause.  But everything you're doing here is insane.  You think you're doing this for Gov. Romney?  I may not think much of my former master, but he would never approve of your actions over the past 15 years.  All these deaths that you're already responsible for, not to mention the thousands more that you're going to be responsible for, if you don't do everything possible to get the Pentagon to call off this nuclear strike.

Winfield: No, you don't think much of the former Governor of the great state of Massachusetts, do you?  That is your supreme failing.  You were his dog.  Adopted by the Romney family, and taken in, as one of the family.  An amazing gift that I can only dream of.  Yes, I lived in the Romney household for some time.  But to be a true member of the family as you were, and then to betray that gift, to spend the rest of your life trying to undermine the Governor?

I can never understand that.

[Seamus sighs.]

Seamus: Look, how did you expect me to react?  He fed me that experimental drug and kept me locked in a cage most of the time.  And then......he put me on the roof of his car, and drove hundreds of miles into a foreign country.  I'm sorry Winfield, but what did you expect me to do?  There's nothing you can say to convince me.  That man should not be wielding political power, let alone as president of the United States.  That's why I spent all those years doing whatever the hell I could to stop him.

[Winfield covers his ears and winces in pain.]

Winfield: Please, don't use the h-word like that.  I don't handle profanity very well.

Seamus: OK, fine.  But that's not important now.

I reiterate.  Surrender.  Or else we'll all be dead very soon.

Winfield: I very much doubt that.

Seamus: Why?  What kind of trick do you have up your sleeve this time?

Winfield: No matter what the American armed forces manages to throw at us, I am confident that we will survive.  At least while we're here, in this room.

Governor Romney will protect us.

Seamus: What?  What is he going to do?  Isn't he in a coma or something?

Winfield: He is incapacitated at the moment, yes.  But I have Him here, in this very room, and He will keep us safe.

[Winfield presses a button on the nearby control panel, and we see a ~7 foot long tube retract from the wall.  Seamus peers over to see a corpse inside, encased in glass.  It looks a bit like Mitt Romney, but the body has decayed severely, as it looks like he's been dead for many years.  Starting to look a bit like this Nazi:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DGFuHC75aY ]

Seamus: What is this?  This can't be Gov. Romney, can it?

Winfield: Of course it is!  If your time machine works, then we can make sure that history is changed so that he never makes it into this state.  But even if it doesn't work, with a little UGrow, we can wake him up, and he'll be good as new!

[Seamus now realizes just how far off the deep end Winfield has gone.  It's clear now that whatever "suspended animation" Winfield thought he was storing Romney in did nothing at all.  Romney has obviously been dead for many years, and Winfield is so far gone that he can't recognize that he's simply storing a corpse, not someone "in suspended animation".

Winfield's eyes now look glassy, and he strokes the tube containing Gov. Romney's corpse affectionately.]

Winfield: We will survive this crisis.  I don't care how many nuclear weapons they throw at us.  Nothing can harm you Governor!  You are truly a God amongst men!  Whatever weapons are aimed at this room will simply bounce off, owing to the GREATNESS of the future (or past?) President of the United States of America!


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 32 (2x12) "When You Point The Finger At Someone, There Are 3 Fingers Pointing Back At You"

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave, Blondie, and Hog have left the holographic imaging chamber, along with Bushie's unconscious body, who they're carting around on a gurney.  Blondie has just finished filling in Dave and Hog about his encounter with Seamus, the impending nuclear attack, etc.  Dave and Hog have likewise finished filling Blondie in about their experiences with Winfield and Bushie, Hog's true identity as Bushie, etc.  They're trying to make their way to the entrance/exit of the bunker, in an attempt to meet up with the Atlas moderators, who should be descending on the facility shortly, provided that they obey Dave's request.

As they make their way down the hall, the group unexpectedly runs into none other than two Atlas moderators, Badger and Mr. Moderate.]

Badger: Dave?  I'm sorry, Dave Leip, is that really you?

Dave: It is indeed, User Number 3488.  I trust that you received my message?

Thanks,
Dave

Mr. Moderate: Of course.  Why else would we be here?  It's good to see you Dave, after all these years.

Dave: I don't know if we have time for sentimentality just yet.  Listen, are the other moderators here yet?

Thanks,
Dave

Mr. Moderate: That I don't know.  All of us were scattered around the city when we received your message, and I think we all independently decided to heed your call and meet you here, making our way on our own.  I just happened to run into Badger on the way, and we made our way into the bunker, and have been searching for you here for the past half hour or so.  The bunker is apparently unguarded now, as all of Winfield's robot servants were deployed to defend him against Nym.

Dave: User Number 11?  I don't understand.

Thanks,
Dave

Badger: When Nym found out that Winfield was the true mastermind behind the Islamist insurgency, he apparently decided that it would be his personal mission to hold Winfield accountable for his sins.  He's definitely got it in his head that he's now world policeman, and that it's his responsibility to "infract" Winfield to death for his crimes.

Mr. Moderate: I'm sorry that we all got so carried away, Dave.  We've misused these moderator powers that you've given us horribly.  But, well, all those years living in exile in Oklahoma, and then, suddenly, Nym offers us what seems like a realistic chance to rejoin society.  We were all too tempted by it, and too timid to stand up to him when he got out of control.

But he *is* out of control now.  And you may be the only person who can talk him out of it.

Dave: I see.  Well, you don't need to apologize, User Number 2080.  I guess I just didn't give you all sufficiently clear Atlas moderation guidelines when I granted you those powers.  I see now how things might have gotten out of hand.

Thanks,
Dave

Blondie: Look guys, this is all well and good, but if Nym is going to kill Winfield, then we have to stop him.  Seamus said that Winfield surrendering to the authorities might be the only thing that could stop the military from launching their nukes.

Mr. Moderate: Nukes?!?  I'm sorry, what is this about?

[Moderate also just now catches a glimpse of Bushie's unconscious body on the gurney, then looks at Hog, then looks back at Bushie.]

Mr. Moderate: And, um....aren't you....?

Blondie: Yes, he is.  We'll explain everything, but first let's go find Nym.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[Nym and pbrower2b are engaged in battle.  Nym continues to find minor infractions in pbrower2b's actions, and attempts to infract him, but pbrower manages to come up with excuses for redirecting the damage onto Nym.  Nym is slowly being worn down.

pbrower's latest tactic is to disorient Nym with an array of highly complex maps with a large number of seemingly nonsensical shadings.]

pbrower2b: This map shows how states have voted from 1992-2008. Ignore letters.

pbrower2b: Key: Democratic wins 1992-2008

Clinton twice, Gore, Kerry, and Obama
Clinton twice, Gore or Kerry (but not both), and Obama or Obama by >10% (Nevada)
Clinton twice, Obama <10%
Ohio -- Clinton once, Obama
Clinton once, no other Democratic wins
Missouri (Clinton twice, Republicans other times, but Obama very close in 2008)
Clinton twice, Obama losing by more than 10%
Obama only

NO DEMOCRATIC WINS:

Obama within 10% in 2008
Obama defeated by more than 10% in 2008

Nym90: But what is the purpose of of the "L" in Alabama while there are "Z"'s in--

pbrower2b: I said to ignore letters!  5 points for trolling.

[pbrower emits red electricity in the direction of Nym, which knocks him over.

Nym does manage to get up, but now sounds resigned to his fate.]

Nym90: I guess you've got the better of me today, and so I'll die not having punished Winfield for his crimes.

But just one question that I must know the answer to before you finish me off.  You're a Democratic hack, if you don't mind my crude characterization.  Why are you working for Winfield, who is working to deliver the presidency to Mitt Romney?

pbrower2b: I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Nym90: Winfield, his goal is to deliver the presidency to Mitt Romney.  You're a Democrat, so why do you help him?

pbrower2b: I.....he never told me that that was his plan.

[pbrower, devastated, sits on the ground and contemplates his choices.]

pbrower2b: I would never knowingly do such a thing, to enrich the fortunes of the nation's economic elites, at the expense of the poorest of us.  Those corporate fatcats would rip the food right out of the mouths of--

Nym90: Excessive hyperbole!  10 points!

[Nym now looks reenergized, and it appears that he may have simply been playing possum.  He advances on pbrower2b, shouting:]

Nym90: Trolling!  Personal attack!  Excessive hyperbole!  10 points, 10 points, 10 points, 10 points!

Pbrower2b, you are in violation of the Terms of Service.  You are PERMABANNED!

[As a flood of red lightning pours out of Nym's hands and envelops pbrower, his robotic body is reduced to dust.

Nym then shouts out:]

Nym90: You're next, Winfield!  No one to protect you now!

[Mr. Morden]

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Winfield is still acting rather loopy after slobbering over Romney's lifeless body.  He's very much out of it, but Seamus tries to snap him back to reality, as he realizes that Nym has defeated pbrower2b, and is now coming for them.]

Seamus: Winfield?  Stay with me pal, I need you to come back to Earth.

Winfield: Earth?  Yes, in an ideal world, the Governor might rule over the entire planet, but we may have to settle for just this continent.  I suppose one can't have everything one desires.

Seamus: Look, we've got to get out of this room, and find safety somewhere.  Otherwise, Nym is going to kill you.

[The whole room now shakes, as Nym is attacking the room with infraction attacks.  As red electricity pulses through the walls, the back exit from the room collapses in on itself, leaving the exit to the large storage bay, where Nym waits, as the only way out.]

Seamus: OK, new plan.

We hide.

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Inks has been interrogating Aizen/Twister/The Professor for several hours now, but not getting anything out of him.]

Inks: OK professor, if that is your real name, we're going to go through this one more time: Where did you get your degree, and who was your PhD thesis advisor?

["The Professor" morphs back into Twister, having now tired of his attempts to troll Inks about his supposed academic career.]

Twister: Is this really all you care about Inks?  Being a lackey for Nym?  Interrogating his prisoners while he's out there doing unspeakable evil?

Inks: Unspeakable evil?  I don't know what you're talking about.

Twister: Don't you?  Tell me something Inks, how many people has he killed in the last 48 hours alone?

Inks: And just how would you know about that?  And why do you suddenly care about Nym?  You're just trying to distract me from my interrogation of you, as I'm just about to get you to crack!

Twister: Don't change the subject!  You know what he's done.  And you don't agree with it, do you?  Executing people over the smallest of infractions?  Is that the kind of Modadmin you want?  Is that why Leip gave you those moderation powers?  Moderation powers!  It's right there in the title!  Don't you think Nym himself could use some moderation right now, since he's taken "moderation" from moderation to extremism?  Surely, in this case, extremism in moderation is a vice?

Inks: I don't think it would be appropriate for me to act unilaterally like that.  Not unless there was consensus among the other mods.

Twister: Lol.  We're talking about the life and death of countless innocent people, and you're worried about consensus?

Inks, I understand that you've always been very lawyerly in your moderation duties, but step back and look at the big picture here.  OK, so today he's going to summarily execute Winfield, judge, jury, and executioner, right?  Maybe it's justified in this case, but what about tomorrow?

You can't blindly follow that man forever, just because Dave put him in charge nearly 20 years ago.  You need to stop and think about what you're doing for a second, rather than just follow orders.

Inks: Even if I wanted to do anything, he's so powerful now that--

Twister: Ah, but is he?  All it would take is two 50 point infractions in rapid succession, and he's done for.  You have to do it quickly so he doesn't reverse the infraction, so you'll need to catch him by surprise.

[Inks shakes his head.]

Inks: Dave specifically gave us that 50 point infraction ability for disposing of sock accounts.  It would be highly inappropriate for me to use that in order to kill another moderator.

Twister: For the love of Dave, Inks, what else are you going to do?  Watch Nym ramp up his abuse of moderation powers until he brings the entire world to heel?  You're just going to sit quietly by his side, because of what Leip said you were allowed to do with your abilities?

[Inks now has a pained expression on his face, as he mulls Twister's words.  He's clearly facing a crisis of conscience, and doesn't know what to do.  Finally, we cut back to the chair at the end of the table, where Inks left his phone at the end of Episode 30.  "Message from Dave Leip" continues to flash on its screen as we fade out.]


TO BE CONTINUED….

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 33 (2x13) "I Cannot Do Anything Good Under My Own Power"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[Nym had blasted open a passageway into the control room where Winfield and Seamus had been hiding, but the two of them seem to have escaped into the larger storage bay, where Nym is now searching for them.

Nym yells out to his unseen prey, in an effort to get Winfield to reveal his location:]

Nym90: You cannot hide forever, Winfield!

I thought I'd reached the limit of my moderation powers, but I feel myself achieving new heights as I speak.  I can even look into your mind, and sense your infractable thoughts, ready to personally attack or excessively hyperbolate at any time.

Give yourself up to the judgment of Atlas moderation.  It is the only way you can save your candidate's supporters.

Yes.....your thoughts betray you.  Your feelings for them are strong.  Especially for.....BROTHER!  So....you have a brother!  Your feelings have now betrayed him too.  If you will not submit to my moderation, then perhaps he will.

[We now cut to Winfield and Seamus, hiding behind a storage crate in the dark, cavernous storage bay, unseen by Nym.  At the mention of his brother, Winfield tries to cry out, but Seamus's paw covers his mouth, squelching any noise Winfield might make.

And then back to Nym, who will now have to take a different tack:]

Nym90: Very well, Winfield.  If you will not reveal yourself voluntarily, then I am forced to resort to other means.  My memory of moderation reports is excellent, and there is one weakness which you once possessed, which may yet be your undoing.  Torie?

[Nym turns around to face the back of the room, where we now see Torie entering, looking as disheveled and confused as he appeared to be way back in Episode 9.]

Torie: What the f**$ is this place?  Have we landed on Earth?  Looks like a $@$$ took a ^^^$$ in its own $$$$.  I can't even see my $$## in front of my $$$$ in this $$$$-hole.

[The bad language is enough for Winfield to reach his breaking point.  Defying Seamus, who's trying to hold him back, Winfield leaps out from his hiding place, and yells out to Nym and Torie:]

Winfield: Moderators, please!  These profanities cannot be allowed here!  I demand that the offending posts be removed!

Please discuss.

Nym90: (apparently pleasantly surprised that his plan to draw out Winfield worked) Glad to see that you've seen fit to join us.

Now, I believe we have some business.

It's my birthday, Winfield, and we're going to--

[At that, Seamus emerges from hiding as well.]

Seamus: Hold on a minute, Nym.

Nym90: What's this?  Another talking dog, like the one who managed to get himself kidnapped by Space Bikers at my bar last night?

Seamus: Yes, yes.  Let's skip past the plot exposition, shall we?

I'd rather talk about something else.  Namely, are you aware that the US military is preparing an imminent nuclear attack on our location?  You shouldn't be wasting your time on Winfield.  You should be working with him, to find a way to contact the Pentagon, and convince them to call it off.

Nym90: I'm way ahead of you, my canine friend.  During my many years of exile in Oklahoma, I was forced to rely on a variety of untraceable means of communication, to maintain contact with sources around the world.

[Nym presses a button on his sleeve, and his battle armor then retracts, putting him back in his street clothes.  He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, and holds it up to Seamus.]

Nym90: I have here.....a satellite phone!  It's capable of cutting through whatever interference the US government might throw up at us.  Once I've disposed of Winfield, I'll call Naso myself, and inform him of my triumph.

Seamus: And you actually think that's going to work?

Nym90: My powers are growing more rapidly than you can imagine.  If I can't convince Naso, then I'm sure I'll be able to deflect any nuclear attack on my own.

Seamus: For the love of Dog, you're more delusional than Winfield.

Nym90: Fortunately, I don't require your endorsement.

[With that, Nym raises his arms as he prepares to strike.  Red electricity begins to build up in his hands.  Winfield still looks somewhat disoriented, but realizes that Nym is about to strike him, and cowers in defense.

But then we hear a voice from offscreen.]

Yougo1000: Leave my brother alone!

[The camera reverses to the other side of the room, where we now see Yougo1000 and BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter.  Yougo runs over to the rest of the group, and jumps in front of Nym's line of sight to Winfield.

Yougo1000: Please don't hurt him.  1961 President George Romney appoints Albert Einstein as Secretary of Science.

Nym90: You?  So you're the brother?  Aren't you the kid who ruined my party in Arkansas City last night as well?

Yougo1000: I just think you should give my brother another chance.  He's not as terrible as he seems on first impression.  1962 The USSR moves nuclear missiles to Cuba, and Einstein uses them to predict the anomalous perihelion shift of the planet Mercury.

(offscreen voice) Nym90!...

[We again reverse angle on the camera, as we see Dave enter the room, along with Badger, Mr. Moderate, Hog, Blondie, and the still unconscious Bushie.  We see that the offscreen voice who called out Nym's name was in fact Dave.]

Dave: ....or should I say, User Number 11?

thanks,
Dave

Seamus: (in reaction to the sight of Dave) This changes everything.

Nym90: (to Dave) What?  Who are you?

Dave: Can it be that you don't recognize the man who entrusted you with these powers?  The powers that you're now misusing so terribly?

thanks,
Dave

[With this, a flash of recognition appears on Nym's face.]

Nym90: Dave....?  So, years of pleading for guidance from you were answered with silence....but now that I'm finally realizing my full potential as Modadmin, you dare to judge the administration of my powers?

Well, I no longer accept your authority.  For that matter, your appearance before me now is perhaps the greatest act of trolling I've ever seen.  In fact, in my capacity as Atlas forum Modadmin, I sentence you to die by your own weapon!