TI Babies XII

by Frank D'Antuono


Everyone: TI Babies, we'll make our dreams come true...


TI Babies we'll do the same for you...


Spyder: I just defected

O'Reilly: I do the math

Erich: I blow up ships


Xavier: I got a neat sword

Hex: I go everywhere

Treschi: I screw people over

Daimen: And I guard with care

Herb: I'm the head villain now

NPCs: beep-beep-beep-BEEP!

Marcus: Get your orders in by Thursday dammit!!!

Everyone: Yes Nanny.

Everyone: Were TI, TI, TI ,TI, Bay-Bay-Bay! Doo-wah-ooooo!

This Week's Episode:  2001: A Suck Odyssey

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!" the gang in the nursery shouted.  It was a brand new year and a new millennium that held the promise of everything from cybernetic implants to flying cars.  But some people were impatient for new technology to be released.

"Hey, where are the flying cars?" baby Hex whined.  He was slurring his speech and making exaggerated movements due to the champagne Nanny Marcus had given the kids.  It was non-alcoholic, but baby Treschi had convinced Hex otherwise.  Thus the gang in the nursery got to find out the hard way that in the future, Hex would be a really mean drunk.

"Relax, Hex, the flying cars might take a few years," Marcus said.  "Besides, you wouldn't want them to come out before you were old enough to drive, would you?"

"You don't know me!" Hex accused.

Baby Xavier clumsily walked over to Hex and draped his arm over his shoulder.  "This guy here (hiccup)... this is the guy..." he said drunkenly.

Over in the corner, little Treschi smiled.  In another corner, baby Daimen nodded.

Just as baby Alistar was about to vomit all over the nursery rug due to too much sparkling white grape juice, the roof was torn off of the nursery.  A large bearded man appeared, hovering in the clouds.

"Stop, stop, stop.  Alistar, don't vomit!  Everyone stop what you're doing!  There's been a change of plans," the Author announced.

"Vishnu on a fucking stick!" Marcus cursed.  "What is it now?"

"Look, guys, doing a New Year's Special seemed like a good idea at the time, but I'm just not feeling it."

Alistar threw down his bottle of champagne in disgust.  "Oh, you're not feeling it?  Well let me tell ya something, buddy!  I don't feel like getting up every day and being the hackneyed comic relief in this series, but I do!  So here's a nickel's worth of free advice, 'Mr. All Powerful, has a messianic complex, couldn't write a greeting card without his spell checker, Author'!  Start feeling it!"

The rest of the toddlers gaped at baby Alistar with open mouths.  "Uh, I mean... ME NO FEEL SO GOOD!" Alistar said.  He could tell they weren't buying it.  "Ah, fuck it!  I'll be in my trailer."

Once he left the room, the Author continued.  "As I was saying... look, it's not you.  You guys are doing great.  It's the script this week, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Maybe you need some time off?" baby Spyder suggested.

"Yeah, you have been burning the candle at both ends recently," baby O'Reilly seconded.

"If you don't have your health, you haven't got anything," Treschi added.

"Why don't you just go home and relax, and we'll finish the story this week?" Marcus suggested.

"Yeah, right.  I had something else in mind," the Author announced.  "We're going to salvage this episode by combining it with another story idea I have.  I'm granting each of you one wish."

"Huh?" many of them asked.

"That's right, one wish.  I can be absolutely anything you want except for two conditions: One, none of your wishes can involve me in any way, shape, or form.  So no wishing to be the Author, or for any bad things to happen to the Author.  Ya got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Good.  Oh, and Marcus?"

"Yes, Lord?"

"Your wish can't have anything to do with the Hot Babes Empire."

Marcus started to turn red with anger.  "Sure... whatever you say, boss," he said through gritted teeth.

"Okay, I think this will work out!  With any luck, none of our readers will notice this transition period," the Author said, as Marcus and the kids started to look towards the screen suspiciously.

"Oh, Frank?"

"Yes, Marcus?"

"Can I wish for a pair of normal socks?"

"Sure, buddy, if ya wanna waste your wish like that."  He waved his hands as pixie dust appeared over Marcus's feet.

"No!  That wasn't a wish, that was just an example!" Marcus wailed.

"Too late," said the Author as he disappeared.

Marcus sadly looked down at his feet to his new pair of socks.  They were pink, several sizes too small, and had lacey ruffles on the ends.  That son of a bitch... he thought.  These are normal socks?  Maybe for a four year old girl!

They match, don't they? the Author's voice spoke to his mind.


The kids were all gathered round in a circle.  They were discussing the best ways to use their wishes.

"Now, is everybody ready?" Erich asked.

"Yes," they all replied.

"Remember, the more specific your wish, the less room there is for it to go wrong," Erich added.  "And when in doubt, end your wish with the phrase 'In perpetuity, throughout the universe.'  Got it?"

"Yes!" they told the nursery's resident AD&D guru.

"Okay then, Treschi, you go first."

"Why me?"

" 'Cause if something bad happens to you, no one will care."

"Oh yeah, right."  Little Treschi closed his eyes and started whispering to himself.  A second later, he disappeared.

"Uh, Erich, is this good or bad?"

"I don't know?" he replied, uncertain.  A moment later, the roof was peeled off the nursery again as Treschi came hurtling down from the clouds.

"And no wishing for other people's wishes!!!" the Author bellowed.

Treschi picked himself up off the floor and shrugged.  "I took a shot."

"Excuse me, mighty Author, I have a question," Erich asked.

"The answer is no, Erich, you can't wish for more wishes!  If you must, treat them like Dungeons & Dragons wish spells."

"Then... we'll each be drained of one constitution point?" O'Reilly asked.

The Author looked at them all menacingly.

"I think you're safe," Xavier assured him.

"Alright, you little bastards, quit trying to find loopholes and power playing!  This is supposed to be a humorous insight into your character's psyches.  And if you don't play along, so help me God, we'll do the episode where everyone gets Typhoid!"


The kids had gathered in a circle again to conference on their wishes a second time.

"Okay, is everyone ready?" Erich asked them.

"Yes," they all replied.

"Okay, I'll go first."  Erich closed his tiny little eyes and carefully made his wish.  I wish for command of an Ares-class Star Control Ship, in which I defeat my enemy in a glorious battle that saves all of mankind despite impossible odds.  He waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened.  He looked up to the sky for guidance.  "Can you hear me up there?"

Go to your computer, a voice in his head commanded.

He sat up and walked over to his computer.  He noticed that the screen was prompted for a game he's never seen before: Von Shrakenberg's Conquest.

"This sucks!  I was robbed!"

Quit complaining!  The game is state of the art, and you can play any scenario you want over and over again without any danger of dying.

"Yes... but..."

No buts!  Your wish has been granted!!!


Xavier closed his little eyes and muttered his wish.  "I wish I had an equal in fighting ability to spar with."

Someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder.  He spun around quickly to see himself standing there.  "Who the hell are you?!"

His clone smiled.  "I'm bad Xavier... and you're good Xavier!"

"Huh?  I thought I was bad Xavier."

His clone kicked him in the family jewels, sending him to his knees.  "Not by a long shot, pal!" he said, dragging him by the hair.  "Come on, lets go practice our sword technique in the basement."

"No, not the basement!" he yelled, kicking and screaming.  "That's where the devil goes to murder little children!"

His clone smiled at him.  "Even better..."


The other kids were in the nursery talking about their recent boons.  Daimen was admiring his new chrome plating in the mirror while Treschi buffed it for him.

"You look great, Daimen!" Treschi exclaimed.

A small smile came to Daimen's face as he nodded.

"So," Erich asked, playing yet another round of his new favorite computer game.  "What did everyone wish for?"

"I lost mine," Treschi said.  One day, Author, I will rise up against you! he thought.

"Chrome plating," Daimen said redundantly.

"ME NO GET ONE!" Alistar said.  That omnipotent mother fucker! he thought.

"I have total Treschi immunity!" Spyder said.

Treschi bolted towards him.  "We'll see about that!"  As he was about to lay the smack down on Spyder, he was launched backwards by an invisible force field.

"How about you, O'Reilly?  Get out of that corner and tell us your wish," Erich demanded.

O'Reilly turned around to face them.  The smile on his face was visible even through his dental headgear.

"Oh, man!  You should of used your wish to get rid of your headgear," Erich proclaimed.  "Why in the world did you wish for a third leg, O'Reilly?"

O'Reilly's face kept beaming.

"Okay, who does that leave?  Who didn't wish yet?"

"I haven't!" Hex whined.  "I'm still thinking!"

"Well, you better hurry up then, the episode is ending in... how long, Daimen?"

"Three paragraphs." Daimen answered.

Hex thought about it for awhile, then a light bulb appeared above his head.  "I got it!  I know what to wish for!  I wish to be the all-powerful master of all time, space, and dimension!"

The roof was suddenly ripped off of the nursery again.  "That's it!  I warned all of you!"


The kids in the nursery were all sick in bed with Typhoid...


Next Week's Episode: How I Spent My Hiatus Vacation


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