Thientiths
Shadows stretched in the dank gloom of the laboratory. The only light came flickeringly from the great, looming computer screen that took up a large part of the wall space. The monitor gave an eerie luminescence to the lab. Wherever the light touched, it glinted off of metal, wires, and glass.
On the floor, a wizened old man was writhing. His voice rose and fell with shrieking peals of shrill, unnerving laughter. This continued for quite some time.
Meanwhile, in the corner, was something that… well, looked vaguely human. It was what a human might look like if it got hit by a bus, or was squished, for example, by the underside of an elephant. The thing that was-not-quite-human looked at the laughing man on the floor. It did this with some concern.
“Mathter?” It said. The old man’s laughter redoubled, his wrinkled face turning the color of a candied apple.
“Mathter?” The almost-human repeated.
The ‘Mathter’, after several moments of choking and hacking, managed to spit out a cracked “What is it, Igor, you lisping worm?” He wiped away a tear. “I was just reading Dr. Mad Scallop’s new post – What is it now?”
The almost-but-not-quite-human thing, Igor, nodded in understanding. Ah. So Dr. Mad Scallop was behind this sudden fit of giggles that had taken hold of his Master. Dr. Mad Scallop was famous for his awful jokes. The Master couldn’t get enough of them. But then a thought crossed Igor’s mind.
“But thur,” Igor said, “I thought the Triangle blocked our acceth to the Evil Thientith’s Web.”
The Master picked himself off the floor, still chuckling at whatever Dr. Mad Scallop had written. “Ah, Igor, stupid, stupid, Igor. Don’t you remember what we did last Thursday?”
Igor thought about it, his good eye scanning the room for any hint. Thursday, Thursday… What did he do Thursday? He had polished the vats of acid sometime in the morning, and scrubbed the blood off of the thumbscrews sometime later that day. But there was something else, too. Didn’t he do something involving satellite dishes? And surgical equipment?
“Didn’t we – ”
“We bargained with B-TETC for the internet connection, you absent-minded fool.” The Master was back behind the large, rather ominously designed computer monitor. He cracked his knuckles, and started typing.
“B-TETC, thur?” Igor asked, quite puzzled.
The Master sighed. “Yes, you great camel, B-TETC.”
There was silence from a rather confused Igor. To him, the Master’s answer didn’t seem like much an answer at all.
“The Bermuda Triangle Extra Terrestrial Committee?” prompted the Scientist, not even looking around.
Igor clapped a hand to his forehead. “Of courthe, Mathter! The Bermuda Triangle Extra Terrethtrial Committee! How thtupid of me to forget. Er…” Igor hesitated. He still felt like he was missing something. “How, exactly, did we manage to get the help of B-TETC, thur?”
The mad scientist still tapped away at the keyboard. He was hatching a scheme with his fellow Mad Scientists of the Bermuda Triangle at the moment, and did not appreciate Igor’s questions.
“Igor, I don’t pay you to ask questions!” He snapped.
Igor blinked in surprise. “You pay me, thur?”
“Never mind,” snapped the Scientist. “We arranged to use one of their satellites in exchange for the unused parts of your brain.”
“… Come again, thur?”
“That’s right. Humans only use about 95% of their brains anyway. What did you need all that extra grey matter for? I figured it’d be a load off of your shoulders... so to speak.” The Master grinned up at the screen. It was not a particularly nice grin.
“My brain, thur? For Thatellite TV and the Evil Thientiths Web?” The panicked Igor clutched at his head, which, now he thought about it, did feel suspiciously light. “Thur!”
There was a ping from the computer, and the Master waved an irritated hand at Igor.
“Shut up, you great lump!” He hissed. “Dr. Mad Scallop just posted another joke.” The scientist leaned forward eagerly, adjusting his thick-lensed goggles.
“Thure,” muttered Igor in the back of the room. “Thure, trade away my brain tho you can read Dr. Mad Thcallopth’s bad joketh. I won’t mind a bit, obviouthly.” He sullenly kicked an old specimen jar into the corner of the room, where it smashed with a tinkle.
“Quiet!” snapped the Scientist from his position at the computer. He was already trying to hold back the laughter. “Listen to this one:
“What happened to the Mad Scientist who fell into a vat of Acid?”
Igor stared blankly. “I don’t know, thur. What did happen to the Mad Thientist who fell into a vat of acid?”
The Scientist could barely contain his glee. “He… Got absorbed in his work!” And with that, the Scientist burst out once more into peals of insane hilarity.
Igor was not quite so impressed. “Oh. Ha, ha. How very funny, Mathter. Quite witty.”
Igor’s Master was back on the ground again, holding his sides and howling. “Absorbed in his work!” he crowed. “BWAHAHAHA! I don’t think I’ve…” he panted, forcing back chuckles, “ever laughed this hard in my life! A vat of acid!” He cracked up with fresh giggles.
Igor stared hopelessly at his master. “Very good, thur. Now about my brain…?”
“Acid!” Shrieked the Mad Scientist, and Igor began to wonder if there weren’t better opportunities elsewhere in the Evil Henchmen job market, like, for example, babysitting a mutant, radioactive, albino crocodile. Sure, there might be many, many, pointy teeth involved, but a crocodile wouldn’t let Aliens have his brain.
“I’ve got to call my agent,” Igor said, limping away from where his master, whose face was now a rather unpleasant plum color, was still rocking back and forth with mirth. “Thet up thome interviewth, maybe thome plathtic thurgery, a partial brain tranthplant or two…” He stumped down the long, damp tunnel that led to outside the Laboratory.
Within the hour, Igor was boarding the ferry to the mainland.
“Tho long, thuckerth!” He said, waving goodbye to the Bermuda Triangle Islands. From one of them, it was just possible to make out a high, hysterical laughter. Igor just rolled his eyes.
“Thientists,” he said.
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(I used the prompt 'Your story is about a Mad Scientist in the Bermuda Triangle laughing at Evil jokes.' This is for the Big Random Contest thingymajigger. Critique appriciated.)
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