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
Alistar: ALISTAR DANCE!!!
Xavier: I got a neat sword
Hex: I go everywhere
Treschi: I screw people over
Daimen: And I guard with care
King: I rule the galaxy
Marcus: Get your orders in by Thursday dammit!!!
Everyone: Yes Nanny.
Everyone: Were TI, TI, TI ,TI, Bay-Bay-Bay! Doo-wah-ooooo!
The kids in the nursery sat quietly in dread. Today was the day, the day they were all going to the dentist. They'd all spent hours in the bathroom fervently brushing their teeth in preparation. Still, fear of sharp needles and drills filled them all. Then Nanny Marcus entered the room.
"Hi kids," he said.
Little Hex walked up to him with a big toothy grin. "See Nanny, my teeth are fine! We don't need to go to the dentist."
Nanny shook his head. "Oh kids, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. I couldn't get an appointment due to the holiday. We'll go to the dentist next week, okay?"
A huge sigh of relief filled the nursery. baby Spyder looked confused. "What holiday, Nanny?"
He turned to the nursery's newest addition. "Daimen, what holiday am I talking about?"
Baby Daimen processed the inquiry. Holiday's celebrated during current month of November: Remembrance Day and Thanksgiving. Remembrance Day only observed in Canada. Conclusion: Current holiday is Thanksgiving.
"Thanksgiving," Daimen's monotone voice replied.
Baby Alistar started jumping up and down, pointing. "IT TALKED, IT TALKED, IT TALKED!!!"
Nanny Marcus chuckled. "That's my little android! Yes, today is Thanksgiving. So we're going to do that today instead of visiting the dentist's office." He looked up to the ceiling. "Isn't that right?"
The nursery roof broke open to reveal a gigantic bearded man with brown hair, hovering in the clouds. "YEP, THAT'S THE PLAN. WAY TO STICK TO THE SCRIPT, MARCUS!" the floating figure said, giving a thumbs up in approval.
"Thanks, Frank. Hey, since it's a holiday, do ya think I can wear a pair of normal socks today?" Marcus pleaded.
"UH, NO, I DON'T THINK SO. BUT HAVE FUN TODAY, OKAY BUDDY?" The hovering figure waved good bye and disappeared.
Asshole! Nanny Marcus thought. A lightning bolt came down from the heavens, burning Marcus into a blackened cartoon cinder. Crap, I didn't think he'd hear that.
Duh, Marcus, a voice reported in his head, I wrote that!
The kids were all gathered round watching TV with Nanny Marcus (who was no longer charred from the lightning bolt because this is a new scene).
"Nanny, isn't there anything else on besides these boring parades?" baby Treschi asked.
"Oh, sure buddy, we can watch football."
"Yeah, let's watch football," they all said.
Marcus flipped the channel. After a few minutes, baby Erich complained, "Nanny, zhis isn't football, zhese men are just talking about football."
"Yeah, Erich, this is the pre-pre-game special."
"So, zhe game vill be on after zhis?"
"No, after this is an hour of beer commercials."
"And zhen zhe game vill be on?"
"No, after that is the pre-game special."
Erich paused. "So vhen vill zhe game start?"
Marcus took a swig of cider. "I don't know. Daimen?"
Daimen did a quick calculation. "The game will commence in approximately seven hours and forty-two minutes."
"Boo!" the rest of them replied.
"Nanny", baby Hex started, "you don't really expect us to watch this crap for seven hours, do you?"
"No, no, I was planning to watch some Babylon 5 and Blake's 7 tapes before my friends came over for the game."
Baby O'Reilly looked excited. "Ooh, Blake's 7, Blake's 7! Yeah, let's watch that, you guys!"
The rest of O'Reilly's words were muffled out by the barrage of pillows and snacks the other kids assailed him with.
Once Nanny Marcus's friends arrived, the kids were locked inside the nursery until dinner time. Little Hex was getting hostile as he watched the grownups through the keyhole.
"Look at 'em, the lazy, unawakened sucks! Scratching their big butts, gorging on our snacks, drinking their grownup drinks!" Hex looked back at the gang. "We gotta do something about this, guys!"
Baby Xavier powered up Kuar. "Let me at em' man! I'm the GREATEST F-ING KILLER..."
"Whoa, whoa, killer... settle down," O'Reilly pleaded. "We can't just barge in there and start wasting Nanny Marcus's friends. We need a plan."
"PLAN, PLAN, PLAN!" Alistar yelled pointing at Erich.
All eyes turned to Erich, the nursery's resident strategist. "Yes, a plan is called for," he said as he went over to the keyhole for a look. "But I don't have enough information on zhe situation. I need proper reconnaissance for us to achieve victory."
O'Reilly turned to Daimen. "Daimen, can you hear what's going on in there?"
"Daimen, how much data do you have on what's happening in the other room?"
Daimen processed the inquiry. "My data is extensive."
They all smiled devilishly. "He might just work out here," Treschi said.
Daimen looked over at Treschi and labeled him as a possible threat.
Spyder went into the room where Nanny Marcus and his friends were watching football.
Marcus looked down at him. "What is it, Spyder?"
"You told me to come out and set the table at 5:00 PM," Spyder reminded him.
Marcus belched before he spoke. "Yeah, remember to use the good china and silverware on the grownup table."
"Yeah, you kids will be eating on that one," he said, lazily pointing to a wobbly card table with several chairs around it. "Oh, take the turkey out of the oven now and start carving. I'll call ya in an hour so you can start serving us. Oh, and Spyder?"
"Yes, Nanny?" he said, walking back to Nanny Marcus.
"Make sure you kids wear the cute little butler's uniforms I got you."
"Okay, Nanny," he said walking off.
Marcus turned to his friends. "Don't I have them well trained?" he said, erupting into evil laughter. Thus, none of the grownups noticed Treschi sneak into the kitchen with a small bundle.
Nanny Marcus walked into the dining room amidst many wonderful aromas. He found a picturesque Thanksgiving dinner waiting for him and his friends.
"Wow, you kids really out did yourselves," he proclaimed as he and his friends sat down. As they went to sit, the kids came out in their cute little butler's uniforms to pull out the chairs.
"Well," Marcus said, "you kids have really caught the holiday spirit!"
"Oh Nanny," Treschi said, "we realized just how thankful we all our to have someone like you to take care of us. This is our way of showing our gratitude."
"Really?" Marcus said, suspicious.
All the kids nodded in unison.
"Alright then. Boy, this looks good! Now, let's all say grace." They all bowed their heads.
"This year were thankful that the good Lord kept us all healthy and free of major diseases..." He paused and looked to one of his friends. "Except for you, Frank. Dear GOD, you're a mess!"
Frank looked up and smiled, displaying several missing teeth as he took a drag from his cigarette, then went into a coughing fit.
Marcus continued. "Were also very thankful that we've been together for so long. We wish that little Miro could be here with us today, but we know he's busy defending his new empire from the uncool virus. We all wish him good luck. And of course I'm thankful for my seven little bundles of joy!" he said, looking at the kids. Seven? he thought. There should be eight. Who's missing? Oh no...
Suddenly, the large turkey on the table started to shake violently. "Al, NOW!" Treschi cried. Bursting out from the turkey's depths came baby Alistar with a large carving knife. "HAPPY TURKEY DAY!!!" he screamed.
The other kids then reached into their butler outfits and produced carving knives of their own. They all pointed at Nanny Marcus. "HAIL CAESAR!!!" they cried.
A plan instantly formed in Nanny Marcus's head as he looked at his friends. "SHIT! RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!"
The events following that went by quickly:
Marcus ran into the nearest closet and slammed the door behind him.
Several of his friends ran upstairs with Xavier hot on their heels. "That's right, RUN you fat-ass old people! I'm the GREATEST F-ING KILLER..."
The rest of his friends ran out the front door and into their cars. All except for Frank, who collapsed two feet outside the doorstep due to exhaustion. He then managed to crawl over to the bushes and hide. Unfortunately for him, Treschi heard Frank wheezing, and smelled him as well, and Treschi spent the next few minutes kicking Frank in the ribs. "You like that! You like that, baby! Make fun of my male pattern baldness, will ya! Who's your daddy now!"
Alistar ran back into the nursery, the turkey covering his body so only his little legs were visible. He bumped into a lot of walls on his way.
O'Reilly supervised the food retrieval program. "Quick, get the stuffing. Hex, grab the rolls and the mashed potatoes! Erich, you're on greens and leftover snacks! Spyder, grab the gravy and cranberry sauce; I've got the pies."
"But O'Reilly, cranberry sauce is yucky."
"You've got your orders, move it!"
As soon as everyone was back in the nursery, Daimen went off guard duty and locked the door shut. "All clear," his monotone voice announced.
Erich quickly went through an evaluation of the mission. "O'Reilly, is all zhe food accounted for?"
O'Reilly went over his count. "Check!"
"All personnel present and accounted for, sir!" Spyder proclaimed.
"Vhat about silverware and plates?"
"Got 'em," Treschi said, producing the good silverware and china.
A sly smile played on all of their faces. "VICTORY!" they cried as they tore into the food.
Daimen just stood there watching everyone eat.
"Come on, Daimen, dig in!" O'Reilly said around a mouth full of mashed potatoes.
"I do not eat human food," he replied.
"Yeah, I figured that," Treschi said. "Here, Daimen, I got ya a car battery from one of the cars outside."
Daimen licked two of his fingers and attached them to the electrodes of the car battery. "Thank you," he replied, now classifying Treschi as a major threat.
"Hey Treschi, whose car did ya swipe that from?" Hex asked.
"I don't know, somebody's black Volkswagen Jetta."
Marcus peeked out of the closet. Satisfied no one was around, he went into the open. "All clear!" he shouted. Then all of his friends came out of hiding.
"Jeez, Marcus, you weren't kidding about those kids!"
"Tell me about it! Voracious little bastards, aren't they?"
"So, where's the real diner?"
"It's in the basement. They're afraid to go down there ever since I told them that's where the Devil goes to kill little children."
They all proceeded down to the basement, which they found was empty.
"Oh, this is just great, Marcus. I ditched my parents for this?"
"Hey, Frank!" Marcus yelled to the ceiling. "Where's the food?"
"OOPS, SORRY ABOUT THAT," a booming voice answered. Seconds later, a king's banquet appeared in the now lavishly-decorated basement, complete with buxom serving wenches and violinists.
They all turned to Frank, who was wheezing, and nursing a number of broken ribs. "Hey Marcus, how can that be Frank when he's standing right here?"
"Oh," Marcus said, pointing to the man in front of him, "that's character Frank." Then he pointed up. "And that's author Frank."
"So, one has no bearing on the other?" one of them asked.
A lightning bolt came down and zapped character Frank. "NOPE," the booming voice announced.
"Come on, that doesn't bother you at all?"
Another lightning bolt smote character Frank. "NOT IN THE LEAST."
"So, it's like the holy trinity then? The Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit?"
"I REITERATE," the voice said as another lightning bolt struck the now charred and unmoving form of character Frank.
Satisfied, they all sat down to enjoy the feast of plenty before them.
"Hey, Marcus, are you sure those kids won't come down here? Even if they smell food?"
"Don't worry, man. I dosed all the food their eating with valium. With any luck, they won't wake up until New Year's."
After awhile, character Frank picked himself up and limped over to Marcus. His body was still smoldering from the previous lightning bolts. "Ah, Marcus... about my car..."
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
A few notes about this story line: All episodes of TI BabiesTM are syndicated. Thus I reserve the right to show them in any order I wish to. Also, in case you haven't noticed by now, NO ONE IS SAFE in these stories... myself included.
You the readers must realize that I am out of my tiny little mind over here. I have little-to-no conscious control over these stories, as they are really written by the thousands of evil little Homunculi inhabiting my head during their brainstorming sessions. The only real job I have is quality control, which consists of the following: If I can't picture Marcus doubled over in laughter, on the floor, gasping for air while he reads this, then it needs more work. It's as simple as that.
The only real reason I write these is in the hopes that one of these stories will eventually kill him, then I WILL BECOME THE STORYTELLER!!!
(Insert evil laughter here)
Having said that, I'd like to announce that I'm now taking any story concepts and/or orders you might have. No promises that they'll be used, but they will be taken under advisement.
Frank "I was normal...once" D'Antuono
Next Week's Episode: Sunday Mass