Scrambush!

Gawlmighty awoke one morning in May to a deserted White House.
Consequently it took him longer to get ready because he had to wipe his
own kiester. When he was ready for the day, the day wasn't there.

"HELLO!" he yelled as he was adjusting his hat.

There wasn't even an echo.

"HEY, THE SORTA PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SAID
FUCKIN' HELLO!!!"

Still no echo.

"HEYSOMEDAMNBODY!!!"

Echoless still.

"Wonder where ever'body is," Gawlmighty growled. "If they had another
evacuation and forgot to tell me, it's somebody's ass!"

Too stupid to be afraid, Gawlmighty got his bicycle and pedaled it through
the halls of his empty castle. Nobody on the first floor. It was starting to
look like it was going to be the same thing on the second floor, when a
baboon the size of a convenience store stepped into view.

There was only one baboon this big. The baboon had been bred in a
secret experiment jointly funded by the U.S. Military, Halliburden,and the Chiquita Bananas
Company. This was no accident of nature like Gawlmighty and his shinola
siblings. This was the product of twisted human minds. This mungo baboon could have slapped
the Packers and made them cry.

Gawlmighty, still too stupid to know the danger he was in, said, "You!
New here? Anyway, where the itchy blazes is ever'body?"

"Gone smash!" said the Mungo Baboon.

Gawlmighty, holding his bicycle, jawed on as if the Baboon had said
nothing at all. "I'm tired of always being the last critter to find out about
ever'thing around here. I'm the dang President of the United States! I
oughta be told at least third or fourth!"

The Mungo Baboon swung at Gawlmighty, missed, and left a suitcase-
sized hole in the wall of the hall.

Gawlmighty still misunderestimated. "Hey, be careful! Tripped over yer
own feet, huh. I done that a couple of times before. Now move so I can
get by with my bike!"

But now the Mungo Baboon reached down and grabbed Gawlmighty in
one fist—bike and all—and then walked back the way it had come. It
repeatedly punched the walls with the fist that contained the Sorta
President of the United States.

It was Gawlmighty's decided misfortune that the place that the Mungo
Baboon was taking him was outside the White House about nine and
a half miles. But Gawlmighty (clasped tightly in the big baboon's fist
which repeatedly smashed into trees and walls along the way), was
beyond thought. Usually almost so, he was now completely thus.

This went on for about an hour, during which time Gawlmighty and his
bike were hammered into one compact mess—half bike, half biker.

Finally, the oversized ape reached its home: the C.I.A. Complex in
Langley, Virginia.

With biker and bike still compressed in its fist, the awesome primate
made a beeline for one of the outbuildings behind the Complex. As the
bigboned baboon approached the huge door in the side of the orange
building, the orange door automatically raised to admit the beast and
closed behind it.

Absolutely everything inside the building was the same shade of orange.

The walls, the floors, the computers, the tables, the logbooks, the clocks,
the coffeemaker, the surveillance monitors, the Kleenex, the paper, the
pens, the printers, the keyboards, the mice, the staplers, the radios, the
handcuffs, the cattleprods, the thumbscrews, and even the ceiling—all
bright orange!

Not that Gawlmighty knew it. He and his bike were still sharing atoms
in the fist of the Mungo Baboon. Everything could have been blue for
all he knew.

There were, however, two things in the room, besides the Baboon, that
weren't orange. (I lied when I said everything in the room was orange. I
should have said almost everything but I got carried away.) The two
non-orange things were the hat and the complexion of the only other
occupant of the room.

Though Gawlmighty still had no idea of these facts (or any other), this
was the infamous Agent Orange. He was the agent that the Agency
called on when they wanted jobs done that were seriously wrong. They
called him "Agent Orange" not only because he loved the color orange
beyond way too much. They were also comparing his deadliness to
the nefarious chemical weapon

And Agent Orange never failed.

He was also seriously deranged and talked to himself.

"Fine work. Fine work," Agent Orange said from under his hat.
"Show me what you've got."

Mungo raised the fist containing Gawlmighty and his bike high and
gestured with the other toward his open mouth.

"Okay, you red-assed, blue-nosed, damn hairy ape, I'll get your damned
bananas but after I get Gawlmighty I'm gonna stick this cattleprod up
your whoop-de-doo, " mumbled Agent Orange as he walked to the
refrigerator for the fruit.

When Agent Orange returned with the bananas, Mungo opened his
fist and let the amalgamation of Gawlmighty and his bike drop to the
orange floor. There was no movement from it. Orange stood over the
tangle of tyrant and transport and continued talking to himself:

"Oh, yeah. Been a bad president. Started screwing up. Making
people mad. Powerful people. Rich people. Crazy people. Say
you gotta go. Gotta go. Too bad. I don't care. I get my orders and
I do the deed. But I got a little problem. Little problem. Now I gotta
separate Gawlmighty from that damned bike of his. What to do?"

He went on. "Okay, what's the difference between bikes and bastards?
Oh, yeah! Bikes don't jump when you zap them with a souped-up,
electric bastardzapper!" With that, Agent Orange stuck his electric
cattleprod into the tangle of gadget and midget.

Gawlmighty had never been able to yodel. He'd listened to the cowboys
yodel in the movies. He heard them on the radio. But, for all his practice,
he never got the hang of it—until just then.

"Yodeeoyodeeoyodeoodoodleedoodleehaw!!" screeched Gawlmighty.

As he stood, smouldering and stretching out of bike-shape, poor
Gawlmighty looked around. "What the hell did you hit me with you
orange idjit!"

"I just did that to get your attention, " said Agent Orange. Then he shocked
Gawlmighty again.

Gawlmighty yelped and then shouted, "Get him monkey! I'll buy ya a whole
truckload of bananas!"

Unfortunately for Agent Orange, the Mungo Baboon understood just enough
English to be deceived.