The scene: The Iguana Mart of the future! And not the future minus five years, but the current future, where half (or more, I’m not really counting) of the DFO are spread across the landscape in various groupings, causing all sorts of future-mischief. Those rapscallions…

Covalent Blonde is currently pushing a megacart down an aisle, as Future Clone Debbie Harry walks along and throws various items into it. Now a megacart is roughly the size of a trash dumpster, with 17-inch rims, independent rear suspension and a 25 horsepower electric motor. It’s meant for “the serious Iguana Mart shopper.” Evidently Debbie is super-serious, since the cart is past brimming with a towering supply of food, clothes, makeup, shoes and various luxuries that it’s hard to live without if you’re an Empress.

There are also two boxes of protein shakes, but those are CB’s.

Future Clone Debbie Harry (throwing an inflatable raft on the teetering pile): Hmm, do you think we need two of these?

Covalent Blonde: I’m not sure we even need one. And where do you plan on putting all this crap?

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Oh! That’s a good idea! We should get a transport of some type, shouldn’t we? Now where are the vehicles? Do you have that map I gave you?

Covalent Blonde: I gave it to WCS. He wanted to find Diggler’s Donuts. And also bourbon. And also weed.

Cut to: WCS, looking at the map (which has to be viewed in sections, since a full-size fold-out would measure about 12 feet by 20 feet). He’s wandering down an aisle the size of a two-lane road, passing by browsing insectids, mutants and anthropomorphic aliens.

WCS (stopping underneath a flashing Diggler hologram): Finally! I can’t believe the size of this place. I think I made it across Long Beach in less time. Of course I was being chased by the cops then.

WCS turns to the shelves with a smile, which turns to a disappointed frown as he sees that they are empty.

WCS: Son of a …! I walked all through this place looking for one thing… Well, OK, three things. But the one I really wanted is sold out?!!

WCS searches the shelves in desperation. He sees nothing but barren desolation and crushed hopes. Then he glances up. Way up. Like, way way up. And there he sees it. A single box of Diggler’s Donuts on a shelf some eight stories above his head. The bright yellow box mocks him with its seeming inaccessibility. But WCS is no quitter! He came for Diggler’s Donuts, and he’s going to get Diggler’s Donuts!

WCS (starting to climb the shelves): Yellow box…is that the double-cream filled, or the extra-frosty with sprinkles? Ah, What do I care? Like the motto says, For a creamy good time, down a Diggler! I mean, that’s just banner material, man!

His brow furrowed in concentration, WCS climbs up the shelves. It’s hard going, as there are no natural handholds, but WCS is a man on a mission, and that mission is a box of over-frosted cardio-killing donuts.

WCS (stopping to rest on the third story): This is some climb! I haven’t worked so hard for creamy goodness since I was a judge at Miss Whip Cream Bikini 2009!

WCS looks up at the box, then hears a voice below. He looks down at a squat green humanoid with tentacles for arms, who is calling up to him.

WCS (shouting): What? Sorry, pal, you’ll have to speak up!

Tentacled Humanoid (also shouting): I was asking, is that a box of cream-filled up there, or is it extra frosty with sprinkles?

WCS (still shouting): I have no idea, but I’m going to find out!

Tentacled Humanoid (shouting): OK, since you’re going up there anyway, can you grab it for me? I think it’s the last box!

WCS (really shouting): WHAT?!! Oh, hell no! That box is mine, pal!

The Tentacled Humanoid scowls, then grasps the shelving with his tentacles and begins to climb.

WCS (angrily): Oh, really? OK, buddy, the race is on!

WCS starts to climb again. But where it was a slow and careful climb before, now there is more than a hint of urgency to it. He risks a glance down, and sees the Tentacled Humanoid already at the second story of shelving, his tentacles pulling it up at a surprisingly rapid pace.

WCS: Crap, he’s faster than I thought!

Redoubling his efforts, WCS scales the shelving as quickly as he can. The next three stories are a blur of motion as he climbs, hops and jumps from shelf to shelf. A tug on his leg gets his attention, and he looks down to see the Tentacled Humanoid a mere few feet down, and reaching up a tentacle to interfere with his climb.

WCS (kicking the tentacle away): Hey, knock it off! Go find your own box of creamy, sprinkled, fried shortening, pal!

WCS scrabbles up another story of shelves, but the Tentacled Humanoid rapidly catches up and, holding on with one tentacle, swipes at WCS with the other.

WCS: Damn it, knock it off! You’re being a real jerk here, pal!

Tentacled Humanoid: I’ve been Jonesing for a Diggler’s fix all day!

WCS: All day? Big deal! It’s been a few hundred years since I’ve chowed down on some Diggler delicacies!

WCS knocks away the tentacle and the Tentacled Humanoid reels out and away from the shelves. He hangs on by the tip of his tentacle, then uses the other tentacle to grab the shelving. But by that time WCS has scrambled up to the eighth story. He reaches for the box but the Tentacled Humanoid reaches the shelf and grabs him.

Tentacled Humanoid: I need that frosty goodness!

WCS (grabbing the box firmly and kicking out): Back off! This box is mine!

WCS’s kick hits the Tentacled Humanoid dead-center and he falls away from the shelving out into open space.

Tentacled Humanoid (falling): AAAAHHHHHH…!!!

WCS: Oh, crap!

The Tentacled Humanoid falls several stories…and then lands in a bin of Diggler’s Donuts packages being hauled to the shelves by a massive forklift. Boxes fly, frosting squirts out and cream sprays everywhere.

Tentacled Humanoid (licking frosting off of a tentacle): Am I…in heaven…?

WCS (gripping the yellow box tightly): Huh. If I’d known they were gonna restock… Ah, who am I kidding? A Diggler’s you have to work for tastes twice as sweet. Now what kind are you…?

WCS looks down at the packaging. It reads “Double Fluffer Surprise! Now with triple the cream!”

WCS (settling down on the eighth story of shelving and opening the box): Triple the cream?!! Oh, man, it’s my lucky day!

Cut to: Future Clone Lynda Carter. She’s standing in a busy aisle, trying to see around the variety of life forms that are milling about.

Future Clone Lynda Carter: Frek! This place is busier than I remember! I know I saw Debbie and her minions go down this aisle… Or was it this one…?

She goes down an aisle, making her way through the crowds, then turns down another, and then another. She seems hopelessly lost before stopping by the giant Diggler’s Donuts hologram. An automated forklift is filling the shelves with brightly colored boxes.

Future Clone Lynda Carter: Diggler’s Donuts? I can’t believe those are still around. I told Moose that he should have outlawed them, but after the Great Twinkie Wars he didn’t want to hear about it.

A few crumbs fall down into Future Clone Lynda Carter’s hair. Absently, she brushes them out with her fingers, and then looks up to see WCS, happily munching away eight stories above.

Future Clone Lynda Carter (smiling): Well, there you are…

To be continued…