This man is a monster

Hmmm. Let's see what's in the fridge. ... What is that ... turkey? Sniff. Pretty slippery, but not too bad. ... Ah, cream cheese. Scrape that green crap off the outside of it and it'll be just fine. ... Beans? Eww! Those are pretty fuzzy ... better put them back. Hmmm. Is that sauerkraut? Cripes, it's moving! ... Jelly! That doesn't go bad, does it? ... Applesauce ... hmm ... oh my, not in this lifetime. ... I wonder if I shouldn't move the fridge into the temporal rift in the secret room. ... Probably no electricity in 1868, though. ... Hmmm. turkey, cream cheese and strawberry jelly. I think I have some Wonder bread left over from Christmas, or Labor Day. That doesn't ever go bad. ... Bingo! Find me one of those old Hess's bricks to put on top of the George Foreman grill and ... BAM! ... An Elena Ruz sammich! ... Whoa! What the hell! ... I think somebody's in the basement. Or something! All of Marge's crap is still down there. ...


I think I heard a voice upstairs!

What the hell! I know this place! This is Marge's crap. Those are her hyperbaric chambers. And those are her polar bear rugs ... the damn cats threw up all over them & picked out their eyes. And there's her dentist chair! Damn! This is Atown-Liker's basement.

Who the hell is down there? I've got a sword and the makings of an Elena Ruz sammich and I know how to use them!

He sounds violent.

I know how to handle this. Sir, we are not here to harm you. I just want you to put down the sword, and the jelly jar, and slowly walk down into the basement to be tortured.

Um ... no?

Hmm. He's clever. This is going to be harder than I thought. Rudolph, give me the explosives.

Explosives? You never mentioned explosives. I'm not sure we even have any in Santa's workshop.

Hang on, James Bond. I know this guy. He's my friend. I think he owes me some damn money as a matter of fact. Hey, Atown! It's the Player.

You? Get out of my basement, you self-serving bastard!

And he's your friend? ... All right, listen Mr. Liker. Here's how it's going to work. I'm going to come up the steps. You're going to put down your weapons. And I'm going to hold this screwdriver against your eye until you give me the whereabouts of Old Donovan.

Who is Old Donovan?

Wrong answer, Mr. Liker. Now I will be forced to put out your eye with the screwdriver and hold this hammer drill to your kneecap. ...

This fellow's got some nice tools down here....

Down! Down! Everyone take cover! He's attacking! ... Incoming!!

I'm hit! Oh Lord, I'm hit! Damn!


Oh good heavens! Those are the moldiest beans I have ever seen.

It stinks! It stinks! Medic!

Back off! I've got leftover fish and chips from Lord Wellington's Gate and, God help me, I'll use them! Do you know how long that place has been closed?

Oh my God. The nuclear option. We need more firepower.

Wait. Let me talk to him. ... Mr. Liker? Remember me? I'm your guardian angel.

You? I'd rather talk the psycho with the power tools!

It's true that perhaps I was not paying attention when your life took a turn for the worse. And it may have been true when St. Michael said everything I touch turns to poo, but I've turned over a new leaf. Just ask Gen. Trexler.

It's true, sir. She was my guardian angel as well. And although she was apparently preoccupied tinkering with a lute at the time of my demise -- and, really, if I might, she had plenty of time to see that truck coming -- she has recently been a positive force on my existence, such as it is.

And the Player has turned over a new leaf as well. Although he ran away when his friends turned against Marge, he did save me from being waterboarded by Ronan.

OK. You can come up to negotiate. But just you. Anybody down there moves and she gets it.

Oh my gosh. He's holding a ring bologna to her throat!

That's leftover from the 2006 primary election. This man is a monster.


I ... can't ... smell ... my ... cologne.

What ... the ... hell?

Rudolph, it's too dark in here.

Sorry. I can't make my nose any brighter.

OK, Player, put your nose back on.

Hell! First you want it off, then you want it on. Make up your damn mind. Doesn't the Man from U.N.C.L.E have a damn flashlight?

You wanted in on this mission. Light her up.

Hell! What's with all these damn bones? Jesus didn't anything about a bunch a damn bones!

These are Allentown's catacombs.

I don't recall any such catacombs in my time.

This is where your enemies are buried, General.

Ah! Well that would make some sense, then.

Quiet. Look up ahead. Is that a door?

It's a metal panel.

Pry it open, General.

Ooooh! Are those some sort of machines in there?

Look at that polar bear rug! Now that's a damn magnificent animal. I wish I could have killed it myself.

What ... the ... hell?

Donovan will eat you alive. Literally

Sir, how do we find this Old Donovan?

The crows will show you the way.

Caw! The crows have no use for Old Donovan.


Caw. Old Donovan is our enemy! Caw!

He's actually right this time. Caw. The crows and Old Donovan are ancient enemies. We will not take you to him.

Dudes, chill. Just take them back to Allentown, then.

But Allentown is fraught with danger. The city lies in smoldering ruin as angels and demons battle in its streets.


Has anyone seen "Angels and Demons" yet? I love Tom Hanks.

You know, it's not half-bad. Better than the last one. I don't know why the pope has his nose out of joint over it. ... He's been a bit of a disappointment.

Tom Hanks is our enemy! Caw!

Shush! ... The crows believe that using an anti-matter bomb as such a key element of the plot was far-fetched to say the least ...

The crows shall launch their own anti-matter bomb against the Vatican! Caw!

Shush! Why don't you go outside and play with the polar bears? Caw!

Enough. We must find this Old Donovan and torture him!

Not likely, dude. Chances are you won't even survive the encounter. ... Here's the deal. The crows will take you as far as Allentown -- and that's an order, dudes -- and you'll have to find the cavern that runs under Hamilton Street. Beneath 7th and Hamilton, you will find an abandoned comfort station. Donovan is the rest room attendant. He'll tell you what to do.

I never saw any damn tunnel under Hamilton Street. How are we supposed to find that? Hell, thanks to damn ol' Marge, Hamilton street's a damn war zone.

If I may interrupt, Oh Lord, I have some small knowledge of the underground areas around Hamilton Street. There was some talk of creating those rest stations in my time.

But how do we get access?

Well, the place was pretty torn up after the Spanish Armada attacked. There's probably some good spots to get in. The Countess of Monaco got in from under the Butz building after it was destroyed.

That old bat's still alive? She's got more lives than a damn cat. Hell, she looks like a damn cat.

Dude, you may want to lose the hat and the nose. Donovan will eat you alive. Literally.

About time!

Hell! Who wants to look like you anyway, Rufus?

Whoa! "Desperate Housewives" is coming on. I'm out, dudes. Good luck. POOF!

OK. Angel, general -- you're with me.

I could help you find your way though the tunnels.

OK, Rudolph. You're in.

Whoa! Hold it right there. I got a red nose, too. You ain't leavin me here alone with Santa. He's a damn psycho. ... Plus one of those guys in Parallel Time looks just like me, but not as handsome. I could be unobtrusive.


He's right Mr. Bauer, Parallel Atown-Liker's right-hand man looks just like the Player. Plus, Jesus poofed little Ronan over to help with Santa. He took over for me when I was promoted from wiping the Cherubim's asses. He's quite reliable. And nothing like his grownup counterpart from Parallel Time.

I agree with Bubbles. I did some time with him in Limbo. He's a good little dude. Let me come Bauer.

OK, fine. You're in. Remember our objective is to get Newman. Everything else is secondary.

Remember the Maine! Get Newman!

Get damn Newman!

Get Newman, and his little dog, too!

What's all this damn racket! Who the hell are you people? ... Don't you touch me, you little bastard!

Yes, sir.

Get me some vodka you little twerp!

Yes sir.

I think Santa's going to be just fine.

Crows, it's time.


Caw!


Who told you we had an anti-matter weapon?

Caw!