The beach (where else?). Two dirty white guys are talking to each other next to a wall that says "BEACH FUN!" in big, festive letters.
Bad Guy #1: Hey, do you have the CRACK COCAINE?
Bad Guy #2: Yeah man, I got the CRACK COCAINE! Radical!
Bad Guy #1: Okay, let's find some kids to sell it to.
Bad Guy #2: Right, dude, and then we'll go shoot some handicapped nuns. Bitchin'!
Bad Guy #1: That is a RIGHTEOUS idea, man, and then we'll knock over some gravestones and deface the WWI Veteran's cemetery.
Bad Guy #2: That's a great idea, Bad Guy #2!!!
Bad Guy #1: Wait, I thought you were Bad Guy #2.
Bad Guy #2: (frowning) Hmmmmm...
(Suddenly ISDH bursts onto the scene, with a surfboard / machinegun / radar detector of some kind.)
ISDH: Freeze, punks! You're under citizen's arrest!
Bad Guys: (In unison) DARN! (Put their hands up)
Bad Guy #2: Hey, maybe you can help. Do you know which one of us is "Bad Guy #2"?
ISDH: (Thinking) Hmmmmm...
(Camera zooms in to a little boy who had been there watching the entire scene take place. He runs away, unseen by ISDH)
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
A thousand years ago, dudes were dying from splinters, but now the wizard potion that cleans our light wounds costs less than a Dr. Pepper in 1994. I love this medicinal 7up.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
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