The scene: A lush tropical paradise! Actually a clearing in the midst of the tropical lushness, with a corrugated steel hut, a hastily-constructed workbench, a still and The Maestro. The Maestro is currently hard at work on the still, since failure to do so might well result in an unhappy Satan. And an unhappy Satan is a threat not only to The Maestro, but to humanity in general. So, since The Maestro is a rather courteous sort and thinks of others first, he’s attempting to keep the still going and thus maintain Satan’s buzz.

The Maestro (attaching a new hose): There! Nice job, if I do say so myself! I think the still should hold together a bit longer now. I just wish I could get the radio working, so we could find out what’s going on in the world…

The Maestro picks up a radio near his work bench, then hears a noise from the nearby jungle.

The Maestro (looking up): Hello…?

The Maestro frowns, then looks at the radio again. Then comes another sound from the jungle. He puts down the radio and picks up a wrench as he peers into the dark foliage.

The Maestro (cautiously): Hey, is someone out there?

The Maestro walks over towards the edge of the clearing, holding the wrench menacingly.

Well, semi-menacingly. He’s holding it like he’d hold a conductor’s baton. Old habits die hard.

The Maestro: Hey, come on out, eh? You don’t want to be messing around our camp, eh? Just come on out of there…

A delicate hand taps The Maestro on the shoulder. He squeaks out a shriek, drops the wrench into the sand, and turns around quickly to find a very pretty, scantily-clad jungle maiden standing next to him.

The Maestro: Whoa! Gee whiz, you shouldn’t be sneaking up on a guy like that, eh? You could’ve got yourself hurt!

The jungle maiden looks down at the wrench in the sand, and back at The Maestro with some amusement.

The Maestro (embarrassed): Well, if I’d have been someone else you might’ve gotten hurt…

There’s movement in the jungle behind the maiden. The Maestro watches in amazement as another woman appears, and then a third. They all look at him with a glint in their eyes.

The Maestro (gulping): Aw, gee, I think I should tell you ladies that I’ve got a girlfriend. You probably don’t know her, though. She lives in Canada…

Cut to: The beach, where Unsurprised and Litre Cola have been surprised by the sudden appearance of…

Litre Cola and Unsurprised (in unison): FOZZ?!!

JJ Fozz: I’m glad to see you two remember me. I’ve only been out here on this island for… Say, how long has it been, anyway?

Unsurprised: Well, the last time I saw you was at that kegger in Buttzville.

JJ Fozz (remembering): Oh, yeah… That place did not live up to its name…

Flashback to: A much younger JJ Fozz and Unsurprised staggering through the small town of Buttzville, beers in hand. And in pockets. And in their beer helmets.

Younger Unsurprised (at an elderly couple passing by): Whoo! Show us your butts!

Younger JJ Fozz (crushing a beer can): Hic. I don’ wanna see their butts, dumbass!

The couple harumph and quickly move on. Younger Unsurprised stops to tap on a barber shop window with a beer can.

Younger Unsurprised: Butts! Butts! My beer for some butts!

A sheriff’s car pulls up and a large man with a badge steps out, nightstick in hand.

Sheriff (sternly): Is there a problem here, boys?

Younger JJ Fozz (hiccuping again): You bet there is, pal! This is false advertising! We haven’t seen one butt since we came into town!

The sheriff taps his name badge with the nightstick. It says “Buttz.”

Sheriff: Well you have now, boys. And just to go you one better, my brother works at the jail. So you’ll definitely be seeing a pair of Buttz while you’re here.

Younger Unsurprised (slurping the last of his beer from the helmet’s straw): Hey, do you have a sister…?

Flash-forward to: The present-day beach again.

Unsurprised: To be fair, the sheriff’s brother did have a pretty impressive butt. Dude must’ve really worked the glutes.

JJ Fozz: Yeah, but why did he have to wear those really tight shorts…?

Litre Cola: So you two go way back, eh?

Unsurprised: Oh, sure. Fozz and I met way back in elementary school. Man, did we have some good times!

JJ Fozz: You got that right! Remember that time we waxed the hallway floors and then pulled the fire alarm?

Flashback to: A Very Young Unsurprised laying down the last coat of thick wax as a Very Young JJ Fozz hovers by the alarm…

Litre Cola (interrupting the flashback): Hey, hold on there! Let’s stay in the present, eh? I think we have enough to deal with in the here and now.

JJ Fozz (sighing): You’re probably right. Look, I don’t know how you guys met…

Unsurprised: We got kidnapped by this crazy blonde chick, and then by a psycho girl scout.

JJ Fozz: Or how you got here…

Litre Cola: We made a deal with Satan.

JJ Fozz: But I think you guys should know that there are women on this island.

Unsurprised: Whoo!

JJ Fozz: No, not “whoo.” In fact, it’s pretty much the opposite of “whoo” since they’re really wer- Waitaminnit! Did you say Satan?!!

Litre Cola: Oh, yeah. Nice guy, eh? He’s out shootin’ the tubes right now.

JJ Fozz: Just how in hell did you two end up hanging out with Satan? Did you get jobs at the White House or something?

Unsurprised: Nah, I came to the DFO clubhouse looking for you, and one thing kind of led to another.

Litre Cola: And me an’ Maestro came down to watch the place when you guys were down South punchin’ clowns or whatever.

Unsurprised: You were punching clowns again, Fozz? Don’t you remember what the judge told you?

JJ Fozz (ignoring Unsurprised): The Maestro’s here, too? Damn it, we’d better find him before…

Just then Satan comes walking up, the broken halves of his surfboard in hand. He’s dripping wet and smells like a cross between smoldering brimstone and wet dog.

Satan (bummed): Looks like you were right, Unsurprised. The board fell apart as soon as I hit my first porpoise.

Litre Cola: Aw!

Satan: So why don’t you get started on making me another one. Maybe your little friend here could help.

JJ Fozz: I am no one’s “little friend,” pal. And we have better things to do than make another damn toy for you to break.

Satan (glaring): You might want to think about rephrasing that, little man. Do you know who you’re talking to?

JJ Fozz: The devil? Big deal. You think you’re scary? I’ve been to road games in Oakland!

Unsurprised (whispering): Hey, Fozz, maybe lighten up just a little bit?

Satan (eyes glowing): Yes, listen to your friend, Fozz, before I…

JJ Fozz: Before you what? I’m no porpoise, buddy, so why don’t you just run along before I get real mad.

Suddenly Satan grabs JJ Fozz around the throat and hoists him into the air with a single clawed hand. His leathery wings flare out, flames erupt from his nostrils and smoke pours out of his ears.

Litre Cola: Ah, crap! This is gonna be worse than that time Dwayne the Dozer beat up Joey Jeremiah for talking too much!

Unsurprised (glaring): I swear, if that’s another Degrassi reference…

Satan (pretty damn pissed): Pathetic human! Do you have any last words before I bring my full wrath down upon thee?!!

JJ Fozz (smiling as his eyes turn purple): Yeah. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, dumbass…

To be continued…