Let us prepare our stones

I reckon this here's the place, hmmm.

How can we be sure?

See them two fellers there with the cart? They was in onea Marge's pitchers. Mmmm hmm.

It's not a cart, it's a litter.

And you's the same feller says things is ironic when they's merely a coincidence. Reckon I'll call it a cart. Mmm hmmm.

Enough. It matters little what you call it. It seems we are at the correct location. The question is not where we are but when we are. Where are those damn crows?

The crows are everywhere, Maximillian A. Bear.

And the crows demand a sacrifice! Caw!


No we don't. Knock it off. ... You are indeed on the ridge above Marge's Turkish vacation chalet. The date is April 16, 2008, three months before Marge will come to Allentown.

So, what should we do?

You must do what you have done before.

But this time don't screw it up! Caw!

But we've never been here before. I know I've never even been to Turkey.

Here here. I have been involved in both attempts to kill Marge, once alone in 1868 in Japan and once last year with these fellows,
which of course was also in Japan in 1868, I suppose, being that they had traveled through time to ensure my success in the first attempt, which as we know also failed, the second attempt being the first attempt, as it were.

Caw!

Do you not recall when Marge wrote on her blog
that she had survived a rock slide in Turkey? ... That was you.



That's preposterous! ... First, that was never Marge's blog. She hijacked it from Atown-Liker. Second, the idea that we came to Turkey 12 months ago to kill Marge is impossible! 12 months ago most of us were in Allentown, in one form or time period or another.

Truman is right. We would remember trying to kill a demon in Turkey, I think.

You do not remember because you have not done it yet.

Hmmmm. I reckon the Green Feller figures thats ironic too. Mmm. ... Wonder if Marge got some Turkish taffee in thar .... hmm.

Or a Turkish bath!

Be on your guard and watch the chalet. Tomorrow will be your day.

No time for frivolities my good fellows. Let us prepare our stones!

It is ironic, isn't it?

Caw! The 'you have not done it yet' part was a paradox. I'm pretty sure the part about preparing the stones was a double entendre.

She loves me, she loves me not

Where are we?

This is the North Pole.

Where is Gabriel?

Gabriel is in the custody of the crows.

Let me go, you filthy creatures!

Shall I puck out his eyes?

No! ... That's my job.

Torturing people is wrong, even if they are recently fallen archangels!

It's OK, Miss; I work for the government.

It's not OK. Let me go immediately or Mr. Newman will have your head!

Newman? What does Newman have to do with this?

Newman? Um, I didn't say anything about Mr. Newman. ... I said you would be a new man.

That's it! Give me his flowers. ... Either you talk or I pluck each and every pedal! ... She loves me ... she loves me not ... She loves me ...

Stop! Stop! My beautiful flowers!

Hey! Who's makin all the damn noise out here? Mr. Claus is trying to sleep!

Santa is alive?

What kinda damn angel school did you go to, girl? Of course he's alive. I just said he was trying to sleep, didn't I?

Santa Claus is alive! I knew the old boy would pull through. Is he badly hurt?

Hurt? He's gonna be hurtin' when he wakes up. He's stone cold drunk, Mr. Talking Statue.

But we saw that angel there shoot him down with a missile of some sort.

The crows intervened, Gen. Trexler. We brought Santa and is reindeer safely home.

Not all of the reindeer.

No. Alas, Prancer could not be saved.

You're supposed to be watchin the old man, Rudolph.

... And I told you to take off that stupid nose! It's offensive.

You aint the boss of me, mutt.

Hey! That angel is the one who killed Prancer! ... Let me at him!

Easy, Rudolph. All in good time. First I want to know about Newman.

Newman? I knew he was no good. He's the reason Jesus kicked me outta heaven. I'd like to get my hands on him!

You? You aren't good enough to lick Mr. Newman's boots. None of you are. When he is through Mr. Newman will control heaven and hell.

You dirty son of a bitch!

Santa!

Watch out -- he's got a gun!

Eat lead, you bastard!

No, Santa! Not like this. We need to torture him!

Gabriel is getting away! I shall pursue him.

No, General. It's too cold for you out there! You'll shatter like glass. I'll find him. He can't get far.

Is it Christmas yet? Where are my elves? Where's my vodka?

Damn. We better get you back to bed, granpa.

Yes, old fellow, get some rest.

Mommy .... zzzzzzz.

Rudolph returns -- alone.

Rudolph, where is Gabriel? Did you torture him? What did he tell you?

Nothing. He was eaten by a polar bear.

No one to torture. We're done, then. Toast. All is lost. Zero, zilch, nada. Newman wins.

Notice how there's always a damn polar bear? ... Hey, I got a picture of Newman and some damn dog I stole from his dresser in heaven. Check it out.

Remarkable. But who is that dog?

Ponzi?