Fritters Freakazoid Gallery
Special thanks to our FreakFriend Jillian
at jupingraphics@home.com
for the following fan fic......
ET TU, LOBEY?
A totally stupid, whacked-up satire of Republican Rome, with Freakazoid, The Tick, Arthur,
and The Lobe all in it.
If you don't enjoy it, all I can say is that your mother is probably a cow.
* * * *
LOBE: I don't see why I always have to be the villain.
FREAKAZOID: It's a law of nature, Lobe. You've got a huge head, sharp teeth, and you
wear white all the time. Besides, you're an Evil GeniusÆ.
LOBE: (sulking) But it's not fair. I want some character development. WHERE HAVE THE
DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES GONE?! (he begins to cry)
FREAKAZOID: (pats him on the back, awkwardly) There, there. Why don't you go and
invent something evil? That always makes you feel better.
(still crying, the Lobe trudges away to go invent something evil)
* * * *
TICK: Arthur! I can sense crime somewhere!
ARTHUR: (warily) Are you sure?
TICK: As sure as Justice has cataracts, friend! Let's galumph off into the skyline, combating
evil and aiding good until the cows come home! SPOON! (races off up to the roof)
ARTHUR: Tick? Tick? Oh, no.... (flies off after him)
* * * *
MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO: Pompey the Great is so mean to me these days!
MARCUS PORCIUS CATO: (Loudly and nasally) Can you blame him, honestly? You're a
vainglorious windbag, Marcus Tullius!
CICERO: (stiffens up and glares) Is that SO, Cato. Well, I've got news for you. You have a
BIG NOSE!
CATO: Rather have a nose like mine than a big mouth like yours.
(CICERO vaguely contemplates jumping CATO and beating on him, but rejects the idea, since
no matter how big a nose CATO has, CATO is big, tall, strong, and generally buffer than
CICERO, who is small, scrawny, and has a really big head.)
CICERO: (weakly) Well, Cato, you drink too much.
(Blank stare from everyone; it's been common knowledge in Rome for years that CATO drinks
too much.)
(Suddenly, thunder and lightning flare; a screaming LOBE falls out of the sky over the Forum
Romanum, and lands right smack on top of MARCUS CALPURNIUS BIBULUS.)
APPIUS CLAUDIUS PULCHER: My God! It's a proof that Jupiter has deserted us! The
spirits of the ether hate us! Monsters from the sky!
(No one pays attention to him; no one ever pays attention to APPIUS CLAUDIUS.)
CICERO: (rushing to the LOBE'S assistance and helping him up off BIBULUS) Are you all
right, my dear sir?
LOBE: (weakly) I think so, yes. I say, is this Rome, circa 50 B.C.?
(Blank stares all around; plus, the LOBE's twentieth-century duds are getting some curious
looks. Particularly the trousers. Only Germans and barbarians wear trousers around Rome.)
CATO: (tactlessly and loudly, as usual for him) You've got a whopping big head and some
mighty strange-looking clothes to be asking US questions, sirrah.
LOBE: (eyes practically tearing up in awe) You must be Marcus Porcius Cato Unicensis, father
of Porcia and father-in-law of Brutus.
CATO: (taking this in stride, since nothing really stuns him) No, my son-in-law is Bibulus,
whom you just fell on. Shame, really. Bibulus doesn't like Caesar. Good man, that Bibulus. A
REAL Roman. (directs hard glare at CICERO and at MARK ANTONY, who has just
walked up.)
LOBE: (practically babbling now, such is his frenzy of awe and reverence) And you must be
Marcus Tullius Cicero, the Savior of the Republic!
CICERO: (puffing up from vanity) Yes, that's me. Good friend of Pompey the Great, defender
of the Republican way, and the FINEST LEGAL MIND IN ALL OF ROMAN HISTORY.
JOE THE ANNOUNCER: Sadly, this is an untrue claim, since there are at least three greater
legal minds than Cicero's, namely: MARCUS LIVIUS DRUSUS, who got stabbed to death in
his own house; QUINTUS HORTENSIUS ORATOR, who really likes to breed ornamental
fish (this is really true); and GAIUS JULIUS CAESAR, whom nobody likes, especially not
Cato, Cicero, or Pompey the Great.
ROMANS: What in the name of Jupiter was that?
LOBE: (shakes his fist at sky) Get out of here, Joe! You're scaring them!
JOE: (meekly) But Freakazoid said I had to be here! I have to give a play-by-play of his
hilarious hijinks trying to capture you!
LOBE: (hands on hips) Get out of here. Shoo. Shoo. Get lost.
JOE: Fine. Be a selfish meanie. I should think that you'd sympathize with me.....
CATO: (recovering quicker than anyone else, since he's CATO) Was that the voice of Jupiter?
LOBE: No, just some noodle-noggin - (an Evil Smileô lights up his face as he gets an Evil
IdeaÆ) Why, yes, that was the voice of Jupiter. I talk with him all the time.
CATO: (looks skeptical, but before he can say anything rude or tactless, MARK ANTONY
jumps in)
ANTONY: Wow! Really? No foolin'? Gee! Will you ask him if I get to be consul when
Caesar conquers Rome?
ALL: Caesar's going to conquer Rome?
ANTONY: Aw, nuts. I wasn't supposed to tell.
LOBE: Don't be ridiculous. Obvoiusly Julius Caesar is not going to conquer Rome.
CATO: (gets tight-lipped and looks annoyed) I knew it. He's not a REAL Roman. No REAL
Roman would wear outlandish clothes like that. He's got a big head like yours, Cicero, but at
least you don't spout pro-Caesar nonsense.
BIBULUS: (finally gets off the ground, where everyone has been ignoring him in favor of the
LOBE) He's obviously a traitor and a doink. Let's throw him off the Tarpeian Rock.
FREAKAZOID: (pops out of nowhere) Just a minute, all you - (he pauses, and looks around
at all the Romans in togas. CATO especially seems to fascinate him, which isn't suprising;
CATO is as beautiful as he is ugly, with a very handsome face and flaming red hair, but a beak
of a nose that spoils it all, since it draw all the attention to itself.)
FREAKAZOID: (stagily) Well, well WELL! A bunch of men in white dresses, a guy with a big
nose, and the Lobe - I'VE STUMBLED INTO A TRANSVESTITE SHRINER MEETING!
CATO: What?
CICERO: What?
BIBULUS, ANTONY, and in fact most of the rest of the senators: What?
APPIUS CLAUDIUS: Another vision from Jupiter!
LOBE: (irritably) No he's not, he's just a doink.
FREAKAZOID: Am not.
LOBE: Are so.
FREAKAZOID: Am not!
LOBE: Are so!
(As it becomes obvious that they could keep it up for hours, CATO takes matters into his own
hands. He grips FREAKAZOID and the LOBE by their respective collars, and knocks their
skulls together. Stars fly about; CATO drops them.)
CATO: Are you ready to talk sense now, barbarians?
ANTONY: Shee, where's Caesar when you need him?
CATO: Shut up.
ANTONY: (grinning hugely) No, YOU shut up.
CATO: I don't see why I should have to shut up; I'm the grandson of Cato the Censor, greatest
Roman of them all.
BIBULUS: Now wait just a MINUTE, Cato....
CICERO: All of you shut up!
(Everyone turns to him, stunned.)
CICERO: (self-consciously) That is, er -
CATO: Antony, you fool, while you were being an idiot the two barbarians got away!
* * * *
TICK: See! See! Evil is afoot, Arthur! And probably ahand too!
ARTHUR: I don't know about this, Tick...
TICK: Nonsense, chum! Big glowy-things like that just are unusual for citizens whose zip code
is GOOD.
ARTHUR: I think it's a Time Portalô, Tick.
TICK: Keen!!!!! (dives into the Portalô)
ARTHUR: Wait! Wait! Oh, brother.... (dives through Time Portalô too)
* * * *
FREAKAZOID: Well, we've ditched the guys in dresses. Really, Lobe, is this supposed to be
your evil plot? Because, frankly, I think it's lame.
LOBE: (getting annoyed) No it's not, it's BRILLIANT. I went back in time so I could prevent
the Roman Senate from being mean to Julius Caesar. Since Caesar would then have no reason
to cross the Rubicon with all of his troops, he wouldn't commit treason, and he wouldn't be
made Dictator, and the Roman Republic would last longer, and the Roman Empire won't exist,
and therefore the world will have no strong dominating forces until the Huns come, and then
everyone back in the 1990s will be ready for me to take over. (Evil Laughterô)
FREAKAZOID: I still think it's lame.
LOBE: You would, wouldn't you. You kids! You think that Life is handed to you on a platter,
that you don't need to work for anything really worthwhile...
CICERO: (who has sneaked up behind them, which isn't difficult since they have stopped in
front of his house) You're telling me. All those younger Romans, like Mark Antony and Publius
Clodius (shudders; CLODIUS is an old enemy of CICERO'S.) and not to mention that
perfectly ghastly wife of Clodius', Fulvia.
LOBE: (emotionally) Yes! That's exactly what I'm talking about. Publius Clodius sends you
into exile for a year, Fulvia swears to tear out your tongue and use it as a pincushion, and
Freakazoid here is mean to me and foils all of my evil plots. (begins to weep)
CICERO: (begins to cry, too) Yes, I know, the youth of today. Can't imagine what it's coming
to! (They fall into each other's arms, boo-hooing like great big babies)
FREAKAZOID: Shee, I didn't know he was going to take it so hard. It's still a lame plan,
though.
(Suddenly, three things happen at once: The TICK and ARTHUR fall screaming out of the sky
and land on BIBULUS, who has just rounded the corner; CATO and ANTONY and
POMPEY THE GREAT round the corner after BIBULUS and see FREAKAZOID and the
LOBE in front of CICERO'S house; and THE AUTHOR has a knock-down, drag-out fight
with JOE THE ANNOUNCER over who gets to do the play-by-play for the next scene. THE
AUTHOR, as talented as she is, wins the fight and the story resumes.)
CATO: (really blaring it out) Cicero! You bloody loon! What are you doing?
ANTONY: Should think it's obvious, old man. He's crying in the arms of that barbarian with a
big head and funny duds.
CATO: Shut up.
ANTONY: No, you shut up.
POMPEY THE GREAT: Will you two knock it off! Jupiter! Do I have to do EVERYTHING
around here? (lumbers over to BIBULUS and drags him out from under the blue bulk of the
TICK.)
TICK: Keen!
BIBULUS: Oh, my HEAD.
ARTHUR: Wow. Looks like Republican Rome. (he is flying around over CATO'S head;
CATO is getting mightily annoyed by it)
CICERO: (still crying) And then after I had saved the Republic from Catalina's plots, Caesar
had the GALL to say that I was just a self-important little man-
LOBE: (sniffling in sympathy) There, there. At least Pompey still appreciates you, hmm?
POMPEY: I heard that! You're still trying to use my name to impress people, eh, Cicero?
CICERO: (drying his tears) Am not!
POMPEY: Are so!
CICERO: Am not!
POMPEY: Are so!
ANTONY: Uh -
CATO: What about the three barbarians?
TICK: Barbarians? Are those like the Deertown Aztecs?
ARTHUR: I think he means us, Tick.
TICK: Keen! Can I have a mustache? I think that barbarians have really boss mustaches!
FREAKAZOID: (to Arthur) Gee. This is getting pretty wild for a crossover, huh?
ARTHUR: You said it. Best of all, no one's referred to me as a bunny yet.
ANTONY: Ha ha ha! Look! One of the barbarians is dressed up like a RABBIT!
(The whole load of senators falls about laughing and pointing at Arthur in hilarity, even
CICERO)
ARTHUR: Dammit.
TICK: Look! Look! I have a mustache! Ay cahn talk wiv a British ahk-sent!
ANTONY: That ain't British. I should know, I helped Caesar invade Britannia. I think they
start everything with a Mc.
TICK: Really?
ANTONY: Oh, sure. McCaesar, McAntony, McRome. You name it.
TICK: (by now really interested, cuz ANTONY is built a lot like the TICK himself, and
besides ANTONY is darn cool, for a Roman) Neat! Can they do this? (TICK whips a spoon
out of nowhere and balances it on the end of his nose)
ANTONY: Ha ha ha! That's great! No, they can't do that, but can you stand on your head?
(ANTONY proceeds to do so; his toga falls around his knees)
CATO: What is the meaning of all this disgusting silliness? This - this - THIS IS
UNROMAN!!!
POMPEY: Oh, bugger off, you grandson of a slave.
CATO: Well, at least it was a ROMAN slave, unlike you, you GAUL!
POMPEY: I'm not a Gaul!
CATO: Oh, yeah? Prove it, Gaul!
POMPEY: (begins to cry from sheer frustration)
LOBE: Come on, Cicero, let's go down to the Forum and pass a law saying that Caesar can
do WHATEVER HE WANTS!
CICERO: Well, I don't know...
LOBE: (persuasively) Oh, where's your sense of adventure? Besides, think how much it will
annoy Cato!
CICERO: (brightening) Well, that IS a plus....
(The two head off, arm-in-arm, to the Forum, where they will try to get a Tribune of the
Plebeians to pass a law allowing CAESAR to do whatever he wants)
TICK: (continuing his weird little contest with MARK ANTONY) Well, I can't sing "I'm a
Rhinocerous Backwards," but can YOU swing around the Basilica like THIS?
(TICK proceeds to run around the Basilica Porcia, ARTHUR vainly trying to stop him, and the
TICK eventually knocks down the entire Basilica)
ANTONY: (looks impressed) Nope, can't say that I can do THAT, but I can hop on my left
foot for an hour! (proceeds to hop up and down on his left foot, TICK watching in polite
interest)
POMPEY: Hey, where'd Cicero go?
FREAKAZOID: Yeah, and where'd the Lobe go?
POMPEY: Ah - I'm Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, Pompey the Great, and the First Man in
Rome. Pleased to meet you.
FREAKAZOID: I'm Freakazoid, the coolest teenage superhero ever. And this is my
underwear!
(They shake hands)
POMPEY: Charmed, I'm sure. Rather spiffy underwear, at that. So, that runty little barbarian
with the big head is a friend of yours?
FREAKAZOID: I guess so. He gets me pretty good Christmas presents, and all.
POMPEY: Well. Yes, I suppose that's friendship of a sort. So where do you think he ran off
to?
CATO: He went with that little prawn Cicero, wherever he went. Shouldn't wonder if they're
burning down the Curia.
FREAKAZOID: The what?
CATO: (irritably) The Curia. The Senate House.
POMPEY: Well, the Senate House looks damn ugly, anyway. And if they do burn it down,
then I can make a lot of money building a new one. The Curia Pompeia, they'll call it.
CATO: Over my dead body, they'll call it that.
POMPEY: Lighten up, Nose-boy.
CATO: Make me, Gaul.
(The two get ready for a rumble: CATO is taller and stronger, but POMPEY was a
professional soldier for a long time. Off to the side, some Roman ruffians make bets on who
would win.)
FREAKAZOID: Oh, nutbunnies. Hey, you, break it up.
UNIDENTIFIED ROMAN: Hey. Knock it off. (FREAKAZOID takes a good look; it looks
a lot like COSGROVE in a toga, sans policeman's hat)
FREAKAZOID: Hey! Who are you?
UNIDENTIFIED ROMAN: I'm an unidentified Roman, kid. Now beat it.
FREAKAZOID: Gee. Sure LOOKS like Cosgrove... (he grabs CATO and POMPEY by
the scruffs of their necks, and they run off to find CICERO and the LOBE)
* * * *
JOE THE ANNOUNCER: Since I'm cooler than the Author is, and besides, Freakazoid likes
me better, I'm announcing this next bit.
AUTHOR: Jerk. This is a violation of union rules.
JOE: Yes, well, whatever.
* * * *
JOE: Freakazoid, Cato, Pompey, and Arthur have reached the Forum, where they're listening
in horror to Cicero and the Lobe getting a gullible young Tribune of the Plebs to make a law to
let Julius Caesar do whatever he wants.
CICERO: After all, you've all got to admit that Caesar is basically an ace, am I right? (cheers
from crowd; your average Roman tends to think that Caesar is God)
LOBE: Besides, if Caesar does get to do whatever he wants, all he'll want is to be allowed to
be elected consul! And then, if he's elected consul, he won't invade Rome!
JOE: Which was a dumb thing to say, because if Caesar was elected consul, he wouldn't
invade Rome!
LOBE: That's what I just said.
JOE: Oh, right. Sorry. Won't happen again.
LOBE: Well, see that it doesn't. (to the Tribune) Here, just sign here, here, and here, and let
the People vote on it, and Caesar can do WHATEVER HE WANTS! (Evil Laughterô)
CICERO: Plus, I'll go down in History again as the Savior of the Republic!
CATO: I've had just about enough of this.
POMPEY: (practically wailing) This isn't fair! Why didn't Cicero do this for ME?
FREAKAZOID: Well, my guess would be that it's cuz Caesar is cooler than you are, cuz he's a
REAL Roman, and not a Gaul.
POMPEY begins to cry.
ARTHUR: This is a really evil plot that the Lobe has cooked up. Once Julius Caesar doesn't
cross the Rubicon, history is changed!
FREAKAZOID: Don't I know it. I expect that when we get back, white mice will be in charge
of America, or something.
ARTHUR: Yeah. Or squirrels will have taken over the Earth.
CATO: Stop talking nonsense, you barbarians, and help me catch that barbarian with the big
head, before he can take that Tribune before the People!
JOE: And Cato, Arthur, and Freakazoid tried to catch Cicero, the Lobe, and the Tribune of the
Plebs. But they didn't catch him, and history was changed, and when the Tick, Arhtur,
Freakazoid, and the Lobe got pulled back into their own times, the Lobe took over the Earth.
AUTHOR: Are you sure you read that right?
JOE: I'm a professional, madam. Of course that's right.
AUTHOR: Bull. (goes for Joe's throat)
JOE: Help! Help! Help!!!!!!
THE END.
Now where to?