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Episode 01x36 - LinusIsSatan.com

Icepunk:

I close my open mouth and ask Zilly, “You’re a turncoat? Seriously? Because I find that hard to believe.” I stride over and grab Zilly by his collar. “Start talking, Dumbbutt. Who put you up to this?”

Zilly’s eyes bulge but he keeps his yap shut.

“Not talking, eh?” I ask roughly. “That’s probably best.”

“He’s not talking because you’re strangling him,” Malex says. “Put him down, Ice. I think he’s on the up-and-up.”

I drop him on the floor roughly. “No tricks.”

Zilly scrambles away from me and rubs his neck.

I turn to Malex. “Where did you find him?”

“Just down the street,” Malex explains. “MuffinsAreYummy says, ‘hi’.”

“Whatever,” I say. “It’s late, and I’m going to bed. I wanna get up early tomorrow and buy a warehouse.” I point at Zilly. “I’m sleeping with one eye open, pal.”

Malex:

“A warehouse?!” I asked. “What in the world are you going to do with a warehouse?” Unfortunately, Icepunk was already asleep.

I turned to Zilly, who was still recovering from the near-death experience that Icepunk had dealt him. “I guess you can sleep on the couch over here... Just, uh, don’t get up in the night. Give Icepunk an excuse to be startled, and he’ll turn it into an excuse to dispatch you violently.”

Zilly nervously swallowed, nodded, and curled up into a ball on the couch.

I plugged Linus in for the night, saluted Thubthub, and finally went to bed.

The unholy amount of sand coupled with the fact that a sworn enemy was mere yards away made it rather difficult to relax. However, I eventually managed it and went to sleep.

Icepunk:

My eyes snap open, and my super-keen Icepunk Sense alerts me to the fact that Zilly is no longer in our apartment. “Holy smiling emoticons, Malex! Dr. Zilly is gone!”

Malex groans and rolls over in his bed. I walk over to him and try to shake him awake, but it doesn’t work. I grab Linus, who is involved in a chat session on IRC - apparently trying to brainwash impressionable youngsters. “Linus, cuss at Malex and make him wake up.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Zilly is gone!” I respond exasperatedly. “We have to stop him!”

“I know,” Linus says, sounding as if he were about to yawn. “He said something about going to see a florist.”

“Interesting...” I put Linus on the sand-covered floor and peer at the screen. “Why are you telling these kids that you’re the Anti-Christ?”

“Dude, chill,” Linus said condescendingly. “Haven’t you seen my website, ‘LinusIsSatan.com’?”

“No, but it explains a lot.”

“Hey, was that a thinly veiled insult?”

“Perish the thought, you perfunctory, abysmal excuse for artificial intelligence.”

“Good, because - hey, wait a minute...”

Someone knocks on our door. “Thubthub, get the door.”

Thubthub groggily stumbles out of his nest of sand and chewed up bath towels and opens the door. Zilly waltzes in with some guys wearing uniforms.

“Zilly?” I ask. “What are you doing? Who are these guys?”

“Carpet cleaners. If I’m going to live here, this place needs to be clean as a whistle.” He turns and directs some women carrying armloads of bouquets. “Just put them anywhere, ladies. Anywhere there’s no sand, that is.”

“Zilly, Malex is going to have a freaking heart attack when he sees this.” I scratch myself thoughtfully. “I think I’ll wake him up right now.”

Malex:

I woke up, opened my eyes, and screamed.

“Icepunk,” I said, “am I still mostly unconscious, or did somebody actually repaint while I was asleep?”

I sat up. Zilly was arranging flowers and directing a group of people who appeared to be preparing to hang wallpaper.

“Ah!” Zilly addressed me. “You’re finally awake!” He turned to some of the other people who were running around arranging things. “Quickly take his bed away and clean the sheets! There’s too much sand!” He looked at it again. “On second thought, fling the whole shebang out the window and buy a new one.”

“Uh, Icepunk?” I queried shakily...

“Yes?” he said as he quickly prepared to leave.

“Don’t say it,” I said wearily.

“Say what?” He looked confused.

“Just don’t say ‘I told you so’.”

He looked around. “I said Zilly would kill us while we slept, not remodel the apartment. That hardly grants me an ‘I told you so’.” He looked around at the bustling crowd of people working on remodeling the apartment and shook his head in disgust. “Oh by the way,” he continued, “have you heard of LinusIsSatan.com?”

“No...” I said cautiously. “Why?”

“Maybe you ought to probe into that a little,” Icepunk said thoughtfully. “Let that go on for too long and we might have a ‘situation’ on our hands...”

Icepunk and Thubthub left to go meet with the guy who was selling the warehouse that Icepunk was apparently going to buy. Meh. Whatever.

“Dr. Zilly!” I called. “Uh, you’re not planning anything big, are you?”

“Big?” he asked innocently.

“Like, I dunno, knocking out any walls or anything... Linus and I need to go get some parts for a project.”

“Go! Shoo!” he said. “Everything will be fine! We’ll just tidy up while you’re gone.”

I gathered some stuff, including Linus, and turned to go; shaking my head as I went.

As I jogged down the stairs, I asked Linus, “What is LinusIsSatan.com?”

“Oh, it’s just philosophical propaganda - nothing to worry about.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with indoctrinating youngsters or taking over the world, would it?”

“Nah, just don’t probe too deeply and nothing bad will happen.”

“Okay,” I said warily. “Just so long as we’re all clear on that...”

“Yeah, honest ignorance is usually the best policy...”

Icepunk:

“So, are you sure you’re not interested, Mister Icepunk?” asks the slick businessman from behind his neatly organized desk. “It’s only twenty grand, and the building itself is in very good shape. Sure, there are some minor structural details-”

“Part of the roof caved when I broke in to take a look.”

“Broke in, you say? I’ll overlook your lack of ethics and drop the price to fifteen grand.”

I gesture to Thubthub. “My hamster is very concerned that your face may be a tad chewy. Er, dry. Would it be alright if he checked that for you?”

Thubthub jumps on to the table and shakes his little finger under the man’s nose - chattering reprimandingly.

“Heaven above!” the man squeals. “What do you want to pay for it?! Just don’t let the hamster hurt me!”