Peter Peabody paced the length of the pink, shag carpeting that covered his living room. It was a disgustingly beautiful spring day and the flowers were in full bloom, exposing their more intimate parts and offending the eyes of good Christians everywhere. Peter wore his favorite green sequined jumpsuit. Senor Dandersvitch, the local thrift store owner, had assured him that the outfit had once belonged to Elton John and had wet himself in it during a particularly stirring rendition of "Bennie and the Jets". That was neither here nor there for Peter. He only liked it because its particular shade of green reminded him of radioactivity and ever since he was a little boy it had been his dream to be radioactive.

"In all my days, through all the horror and atrocities I’ve seen, I never thought I’d see something like this." Peter lamented.

Sitting on the dark mahogany coffee table were several of the most disobedient cans of Spaghetti-Os you have and, god willing, you will ever see. The epic forty-seven minutes that was the Great Kitchen War was over, but the treason committed by these pasta filled cans still clouded the air like a great stench. Peter led the Cabinet Brigade and considered the Spaghetti-Os to be some of his most loyal soldiers. But opportunity makes monsters of men… and cans. They had sided with the evil Toaster, who promised the spoils that came from the Great Fridge Raid. Peter would have preferred the pain of having his kidney stabbed with a rusty fork then the hurt of their betrayal.

Betrayal, as it turns, that was all for naught. The battle was over, the evil Toaster now sat at the bottom of a hamper, it’s dial set at the lowest setting, and the little cans of Spaghetti-Os were left on their own.

"Just you wait till Chef Boyardee hears of this."

Zsa Zsa Fitgerald Romano von Heiden Lopez, most people know him as Hilda, sashayed down the block. Hilda payed no mind to the blatant stares at his attractive figure. They all had only one thing on their minds. Perhaps, they were never taught by their parents that it was impolite to ogle and undress a man with their eyes. No matter how scrumptious he looked.

Hilda fretted with his outfit for a moment because the gumballs were starting to stick together. Appearance was everything when you were trying to sell makeup to people in the neighborhood. Hilda went door-to-door hawking his wares. His line of Purulence at Night was unique and of high quality. No where else would you be able to purchase foundation that contained fresh whale snot. The batch he carried with care had been mixed a few hours ago.

Spying another door of opportunity, Hilda tottered over on his platform heels with flashing disco lights and rung the bell. He fluffed his fro, arranged his boa, and adjusted his straps.

"...and that's why i'm afraid of pelicans!" Peter Peabody screamed.

One impudent, little can of Spaghetti-Os thought he would be a Mr. Clever Boots by trying to work it's way into Mr. Peabody's good side, but with little affect. Peters hands shook with a rage he had never experienced before. His blood boiled, his innards steamed, his heart lightly sauteed with onions and shallots. It was an ire that burned the very fabric of his soul. Then... the doorbell rang!

:O "A guest!" Peter squealed.

Traversing the harrowing terrain of the pink, shag carpeting, he undid the seven locks on the door (cause seven keeps the devil out) and flung open the door.

"As I live and breathe!" Peter exclaimed, spying the afroed (( It's a word. >_> )) gentleman. "Father Christmas!"

He flung his arms around the man at the door. "Oh Father Christmas, I thought you were still off fighting ravenous hula dancers in Honolulu. Curse those wretches! Say, what's this?!" Spotting the gumball machine attached to "Father Christmas'" front. "A receptacle for presents. Oh you shouldn't have!"

He lifted the flap. Peered Inside. Lowered the flap. And spoke. "I do believe I have made a grievous mistake."

Hilda squawked and stumbled back a few steps in absolute horror. Regaining his balance and blushing furiously, he began to berate whoever opened the door.

"How dare you! You have no right to manhandle me in such a way! You uncouth monster! Do you know who I am! Treating me like a slab of meat to be..."

Hilda paused suddenly to look closely at his attacker.

"Ch...Charles!" Hilda suddenly became teary and returned to his previous position on the doorstep.

Hilda slowly reached out and in the blink of an eye had swallowed "Charles" up in a bone crushing embrace. "Oh Charles!", Hilda sobbed. "I have waited so patiently for you these past three years. I never gave up hope! I remember our last day together like it was yesterday. We were in the bowels of the jungle trying to find our baby. You were wrestling a level 73 Feraligatr and you told me to go long. I started running, but you know my upper body is petite and delicate. Despite all of your effort to save our child from being eaten, I couldn't catch it."

Hilda choked out the confession he had bottled up inside for so long. "You don't blame me do you Charles? You still love your Hilda, don't you?" <End Part 1 of 2>

Charles Peter Peabody (Muffy to his friends) stepped back from Hilda, trying to keep his balance. He was in shock. All the years he had tried to forget came rushing back to him. He had hoped he'd buried his past deep enough, but like a zombie with a can-do attitude, it just wouldn't stay down. And now, after so long, here again stood Hilda in front of him, looking as long, taut and tucked as he remembered.

~ ;D SCENE DISSOLVE! WHEEEE! ~

The year was 1933, Amelia Earhart had just been made president and smearing honey on your genitals was all the rage. Charles Peter Peabody was a fresh faced lad of only 11. His parents, Burlow and Formica Peabody, were wealthy socialites, owning the most lucrative soylent green production plants in the American northwest.

By nature, Charles was a timid boy who enjoyed reading, building model ships and dancing for nickels down by the docks. Having few friends and few social outlets, his parents worried for their son. So they hired a nanny. A pretty young things, straight off the boat from Swizterland. Hair the color of the autumn leaves, eyes as bright as the summer sun, teeth as white as the winter snow and skin that smelled like Irish Spring. The most beautiful creature you had ever seen. ... But unfortunately she couldn't make it, so they sent her tranny brother instead.

But Charles grew to love Hilda, despite his parents objections, despite what society said, despite all the work it took to remove all that duct tape. He loved him. And together they traveled the world. Until... until that fateful day...

~REVERSE SCENE DISSOLVE! HOT CHA!~

"Hilda, I... I don't know... What... what are you doing here?"

Hilda shuddered. "I...I don't like to talk about that portion of my life."
-Swirly Hypnotic Flashback-
"After I was rescued by Geppetto, who was looking for a real boy that would wear Gap clothing and make swordfish sandwiches, brought me back to the mainland. I didn't fit his criteria, so we parted ways.

"Shortly after, I was admitted to a psychiatric ward where they tried to make me believe that you and our child never existed. I was chained to a chair in a pool with electric eels while I watched Annie over and over again. Then they wouldn't let me shave and forced me to act 'masculine'... "
-Swirly Hypnotic End Flashback-

Meanwhile....

The boss, Whatshisname, assigned Alphonse an important task. He was to collect cans and bring them back to the hideout. A group of hobos united under the boss were going to rule the world by owning every tin can in existence. That would be their source of power and they didn't care how they got it. Alphonse was determined to prove himself worthy. The boss, a puddle of reeking goo, always hissed at him in displeasure. The boss had never gurgled in delight at anything Alphonse did. The other hobos were starting to distance themselves. Alphonse would be sure to set things right. He even had his bag of flesh eating jelly beans if anyone tried to stop him from attaining his goal.

His can senses started tingling. Apparently a motherload of cans were located in a house across the street. Some couple was canoodling in the doorway. He crept closer in order to get a better look at what was going on and think of a possible way to ambush them.

(Crummy, but it's something so we can progress. c:)

((Remember, no need to overthink, Snowberry. Anything goes. No worries. Sail those cares away. Kick it to the curb like a bad marriage. Mmm hmm, girlfriend. ... And stuff like that. >_> ))

Peter picked a fallen feather from Hilda’s boa off his sleeve. He looked at her... er uh him and sadly shook his head.

"Rescued by a desperately lonely, Italian puppet maker and then forced to watch 80's musicals in the boobie hatch, eh? Hilda, you insult me. That's the oldest story in the book. If you're going to lie to me, you at could at least try to be a little more original."

"You don't know how hard it was on me after I lost you and our little Alfredo. You don’t know how many long hours I suffered. Three... Almost four... Oh, the hours were torture. How I mourned. But a man can only mourn for so long, Hilda. There came a point where I couldn't do it anymore. Where I had to say to myself, 'Hey… that Golden Girls marathon is about to start. It's time to let go.' And I did." Peter placed a hand on Hilda's shoulder. "I did." Removing it and wiping the body glitter on the wall.

"I've built a new life for myself here in Pork Doughnut Heights. I have a new home. ... Well no, not new. I mean I didn’t build it myself and it wasn’t new when I bought it. It’s new to me. And I’m still paying off the mortgage, but with very reasonable interest. The bank people were so accommodating and the realtor is such a nice lady. It’s a shame about her lazy eye though.”

"My point is Hilda, I don’t know if I can go through it all again. I have so many good things going for me right now, in addition to ...several disobedient can of Spaghetti-Os!" Peter turned. "That's right, i'm talkin' 'bout you guys! Especially you, Doug! ... Don't you give that look! Don't you... You're gonna get it! Don't push it!" He turned back to Hilda. “Purple monkey dishwasher.”

-Meanwhile-

A dog barked.

(Aye, aye Cap'n. :D -loosens up- It is easier to just ramble. x3)

Hilda's mood deflated. The rejection stung like sitting on a patch of prickly cacti and then twisting the nettles in your rump. Hilda adjusted his strap and bit down on a highly glossed bottom lip. He should have known that he could not simply waltz back into Charles' life after an extended period of time. Perhaps, he had stretched his story just a little bit. In truth, Hilda wasn't ready to share the complete details on what happened and why he had not talked with Charles until now. Scandal did not prevent Hilda from telling the truth, it was mostly embarassment. In order to tell the story a great deal of time, patience, and peach schnapps was needed.

Hilda averted his gaze and shifted his weight on his flashing disco light platform stilettos. His next words were lost as Hilda abruptly crumbled into a heap.

------

Alphonse came into view. A dart was lodged in the back of Hilda's neck. He regretted having to hurt the broad, but he was on a job. After all of this was over, maybe she would consider being his girl. There was something unique about this broad that he just couldn't put his grubby finger on. Maybe it was the body glitter. Yeah, that must be it.

Alphonse sized the freckled man up in the doorway, while the dog barked it's head off. "Listen here. I'm on a job, see. Them cans you got. I wants 'em and I aim to take 'em, see. I went easy on the broad but, I've got flesh eating jelly beans, see." Alphonse backed up his claim by showing a bag of ferocious looking jellies. "Now step aside or the broad gets it." Alphonse took a bold step forward.

"Lands o' Goshen!" Charles screamed! "This uncouth beast wants my cans!" He clutched at his chest. "Oh, what has this world become when a man is not safe in his own home?! Oh, I lament the downfall of society, where a law abiding gentleman as myself must guard his chesticles from perversity! Take my money but..." He ran his hands in circles across the front of his green jumpsuit. "Say, I really don't have much in the way of cans."

"My good sir, i'm sure you could find someone other than myself more amply endowed in the chestal area. In fact..." Charles turned to face a back hall. "Mavis!" He called again. "Mavis! Do be a love and come out here.

The lovely young Mavis appeared from the back room, looking a vision. "Yes, a Mr. Peabody."

"Mavis, this gentleman is going door to door assaulting the jubblies of unsuspecting, god fearing citizens. I assume for the poor. But seeing as my tatas aren't much to speak of, I was wondering if you'd be a lamb and let him have his way with you."

Mavis moved forward, stepping over the snoring Hilda heap, and tore at the seam of her flimsy peasant blouse. "What I do now I do for my native land of Coo-ba and for a Mr. Peabody! Demean my fun sacks as you will, but please leave my nethers for my wedding night."

(I still get a fit of the giggles. :XD)

Alphonse shifted and glanced about to see if anyone heard the commotion. The red head had starting ranting and raving. His job required stealth and swiftness. He couldn't afford to be caught robbing this fellow. Being pinched(mob talk meaning "arrested") in broad daylight would be the ultimate humiliation.

Alphonse was suddenly distracted by the voice of an angel. He openly gaped at the soft and shapely "cans" before him. This "Mavis" was truly a sight to behold. His "can" senses began tingling again. Bringing to the forefront what his original mission was. Beady eyes moved to the red head just behind Mavis.

The red head was obscenely massaging his chest. This man had no decency and he distracted Alphonse from his quest with luscious mammaries. Only Satan himself could be capable of such evil. Those tin cans were calling out in distress and he could feel their sorrow. Satan must have thought he could deter Alphonse from achieving the fame and glory he deserved. Well, he would show him! Alphonse roughly shoved Mavis aside and strode purposefully toward the evil incarnate.

((:lol: Glad you liked it.))

"Look at them! Look at my luscious lumps of love!" Mavis exclaimed, shaking what her mama gave her. But for all her gyrating, the swarthy stranger at the door stood fast, then pushed her aside to move toward Charles. Mavis spun, a tear in her eye and fastened closed her peasant blouse. "You... you no like my cans?"

Back in Cuba, Mavis was considered a girl of unparalleled beauty. Men gawked. Women envied. Children ceased their cigar making to stare. Even Fidel Castro had commented once that she was causing a missile crisis in his pants. But now.. now...

Pushing the stranger out of the way, she ran to her employer's side. "Oh, a Mr. Peabody! The man no like my fun bags. Am I... Is Mavis getting old? Does her beauty fade?"

Charles hugged Mavis, petting the soft down of her hair. "Oh hush now. Don't be ridiculous. You're just as beautiful as the day I found you in that packing crate in Miami. Perhaps the man is a homer sexual."

Mavis' eyes brightened. "Yes! A friend of the tushy, no?"

He gently released her and addressed the stranger. "Is that correct, my good fellow? You are a practitioner of the love that dare not speak it's name. Ah, i'm flattered. I really am. And it's not to say that you're not a handsome fellow, because you certainly are. But i'm afraid that I must tell you that I really don't deal in those sort of backdoor shenanigans. Sure, I experimented once or twice in college. And band camp. And various boy scout jamborees. And there was that one family reunion. And if you take into account that I married and traveled the world with a drag queen. But aside from that," he turned, "this is not a port of entry. Exits only."

"Oh, a Mr. Peabody!" Mavis clasped her hands. "You're such a gentleman!"

"This... is true." He smiled.

Mavis and Satan were canoodling in the entrance. While they were cooing at each other, Alphonse began to envision the cans that were waiting for him inside the house. He thought of the cool metal that would tremble in his dirty hands while he stripped off the dainty paper wrapping. The soft curves and the beautiful shine of the aluminum entranced him. He would not get to partake in this activity if he could not get inside.

He had enough of the nonsense and tomfoolery! Alphonse charged and roughly knocked the couple aside in the doorway. He fumbled about and cast off a few mariachi bugs while he opened the bag of vicious jellies. Alphonse tossed the open bag of flesh eating jelly beans behind him as a distraction. Beady eyes peered about and his toes curled in the shag rug. Using his can senses, Alphonse began to hunt for their mysterious location.

((Don't know much about what the inside looks like and I didn't want to assume anything. I think it's time for a little action. >3))

(( ;D Assume all you like. This a free RP. Infringe on me. I'm begging for it! Woof! ))

The swarthy stranger, obviously disappointed by Charles declining his declaration of man love, pushed he and Mavis aside. Regaining his footing, Charles looked up to see small multi-colored projectiles being hurled into the air. "Dear god," he exclaimed, "he's sprouting! His rainbow seeds are going everywhere! The house will be filled with homer sexuals! ... And I just shampooed the rug!"

"No, a Mr. Peabody." Mavis said, bringing a hand up to halt Charles. "Don't come any closer. I've seen these before back in my native land of Coo-ba!" Pulling back the cover of her wristwatch, she spoke. "Chief, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Agent M." A small voice came from the device.

"We have a situation. Flesh eating jelly beans. I need you to analyze." Mavis extended her arm. A thin blue laser line swept along the carpet. "Did you got it?"

"Just a moment." The Chief spoke. "Aha. Fortunately they're not Mexican flesh eating jelly beans. But they are Peruvian!"

"Peruvian?! That fiend!" Mavis cursed.

"You know what to do, Agent M! Go Alpha!"

*song begins*

We fight for our future!
We fight with all our might!
We fight for tomorrow!
We fight for what's... RIIIGGHHT!

Into battle... *childrens choir* Agent M!
Show your power... *choir* Agent M!
Protector of... humaniteeeeee!

AGENT M!

*song ends*

Squatting down in sumo style, Mavis brought out her arms. A momentary stillness settled over the living room, until the noise of a low rumbling begin to sound below the house. "Aaauuuggghhhh!" Mavis began to cry, her voice growing to a cacophonous din. Then, fast as lighting, she again ripped open her blouse! Swirls of energy began to build before her, being drawn into her ample mams. Charles had to turn his gaze, as his eyes could no longer stand to stare at the intense light coming from her jubblies.

"MAVIS... BEAM!" She shouted, a powerful blast expelled from her hooters. Charles shielded himself, afraid to see the outcome. "It's over." Mavis assured him, rebuttoning the blouse.

"Good work, Agent M."

"Thanks, chief."

... "You singed the rug a little over there." Charles pointed. "That's coming out of your paycheck."

((-wiggles in singing Boogie Nights- This place was in the back of mind, sorry for late reply. I miss the madness. :XD))

Alphonse followed his can senses towards the kitchen. He halted at the bottom of a staircase. Something powerful tugged at his tattered pants leg. Alphonse peered down to find...nothing? Puzzled and temporarily abandoning his mission, Alphonse looked around the small hall. Family portraits lining the walls were the only people that could be seen.

Suddenly, Alphonse felt the overwhelming urge to dash up the winding staircase, turn to the left, walk past 3 doors and enter the fourth on the right, which was the master's study. The tug on his psyche was stronger than the time when he had to pee at the factory. Unfortunately, there were no piss breaks at the wonderful establishment. Some poor soul would be purchasing an acrid bottle of apple cider from the market, after the incident.

At present, Alphonse found himself outside of the great oak door. He turned the knob and stepped inside. Suddenly, he was pushed and the door slammed behind him. The room was dark and he needed to find a light switch. Alphonse began fumbling around for a wall. Unbeknown to him, something was slithering across the floor. (What does Charles have in his study? O: )


-----

Shortly after the jelly beans were annihilated, a robust woman by the name of Sage appeared and began repairing the damaged rug. The hustle started playing via intercom while she worked. That woman was hell with a vacuum. Once the rug was spotless and freshly vacuumed, Sage bowed to the master of the house and disappeared.

Hilda's vision was blurry as he regained consciousness. A pair of impressive mammaries with laser powers were on display. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision and began to sit up. Was this why Charles couldn't be with him? This minx had hypnotized his Charles with her bosom barrage.

Hilda was a delicate woman, but there were times when her testosterone level rose and she became ..err..unlady-like. Shaking with rage, Hilda rose and tackled Mavis down onto the freshly vacuumed rug. "You Hussy! How dare you trap Charles with your deadly and seductive wiles!", Hilda screamed while trying to choke Mavis.

Charles marveled at the speed and skill at which the rug was repaired by the robust woman. He had abso-freakin’-lutley no idea who she was, but she had done such a crackerjack job that he decided not to question it. Plus it was always a joy hearing the Hustle. It reminded him of those bygone days at Disco Camp.

Only after bending down and closely inspecting the condition of his authentic Japanese Pier 1 Hello Kitty throw rug did he notice that Hilda was once more in the land of the conscious and, oddly enough, now had Mavis in a death lock.

“Ack! Please! A Mr. Peabody! I am being attack by the man-woman!” Mavis gasped.

“Goodness, so you are. Now why on earth do you have my maid in a headlock, Hilda?”

“She… is after the ‘Power’!” Mavis flailed.

“I say, when it rains it pours. There’s an awful lot of can grabbing today. I hadn’t known that you swung that way, my dear Hilda.”

“The gumballs! The gumballs!” Mavis cried.

“I must say it’s quite a shock. To think the mother of my child is a thespian! Heavens! But I suppose it shouldn’t be so much of a surprise, you always did have such an affinity for Joan Baez. But it’s a shame, really. I always enjoyed your flamboyant way of dressing. I suppose you’ll be festooning yourself now in flannel shirts and oversized belt buckles.”

Mavis wrestled free from Hilda’s grip. “You Cuban trollup! I’ll scratch your eyes out!” Hilda growled.

“No no… Coo-ban.” Mavis corrected her.

“That’s what I said. Cuban.”

“No. Coo. Coo. Coo-ban.”

“Oh, sorry. … You Coo-ban trollup! I’ll scratch your eyes out!”

“Just you try it, Frank-N-Furter!” Mavis launched a flying tackle at Hilda, sending them both tumbling into the breakfast nook.

Charles was oblivious. “You will look fetching with short hair, though. There was that one summer you had the pageboy and it was quite attractive. And if you like we can pick out a nice tribal armband for you at the local tattoo parlor. We’ll make an outing of it. Yes. Yes, I think you will make a very successful thespian. I give you my blessing.” He smiled. “Now, where did that poor, misguided, homer sexual get to?”

…

Alphonse considered himself a man of confidence. He wasn’t one easily given to fear. But there was a certain something about this house, about this… Charles Peabody that set him ill at ease. The afternoon sun still shone bright outside but the blackness of the room swallowed him. He turned and pulled at the doorknob, but it wouldn’t give way. It was then he heard it. A rustling. A low slither that was now crossing the floor in his direction.

Alphonse frantically worked the knob [heh heh]. “Open you.” He stammered. But the door stubbornly held shut. The sound was quickly growing louder, the unseen thing coming closer and closer. Alphonse abandoned the knob and began to pound at the door. “Let me out! Open the door!”

He jumped as a hand grabbed his leg and from the darkness came a graveled whisper. “Help me.”