SEASON THREE, EPISODE EIGHT
ONE NATION UNDER BITCH-FACE
(The Bridge. Anastasia is sitting in Fuzzy’s chair. On either side of her are Westminster and Rabbo, fanning her with enormous carrots. Abbie is massaging her feet. Several gun-bunnies are scattered around the room, looking grim and Move-And-I’ll-Shoot-You-ish.)
ANASTASIA: A little to the left, Abbigail.
ABBIE: Yes, Mistress.
ANASTASIA:And not too hard - be gentle. I have very sensitive feet.
ABBIE: Yes, Mistress.
ANASTASIA: I’m glad you’ve got the hang of the new hierarchy around here. If you continue to serve me well, you might score a promotion sometime in the next six to eight years.
ABBIE: Yes, Mistress.
(Suddenly Earless bursts in. He is pursued by the Stab-Stabs and four more gun-bunnies.)
EARLESS: That’s it! I’ve had it! I refuse to put up with this one second longer!
ANASTASIA: What is the meaning of this outrage? Pommel! Contain him!
ABBIE: Dad!
(The Stab-Stabs manage to get hold of Earless and keep him still. He continues to struggle, but to no avail.)
EARLESS: I will not suffer the rule of this tyrant! These mad-fool ninja freaks tried to clap me in irons simply because I neglected to say “Golly, We’re Lucky Mistress Anastasia Is Letting Us Eat This” when I had breakfast this morning!
ANASTASIA: Were you not aware that the laws of the Sea Kidney clearly state that anyone failing to recite the Pax Anastasius before a mean would be imprisoned? You are my subjects now, and you will heed my commands. You people are the first generation of a new race: you are the first of my Anastasians.
EARLESS: Ooh, you are a stuck-up old bitch!
ANASTASIA: Pommel, take this aged troublemaker away and execute him immediately. It is obvious that he is incapable of contributing to our new society.
ABBIE: No way!
(Abbie produces a nail file and stabs Anastasia in the foot. Anastasia screams and bleeds.)
ANASTASIA: You’ll pay for that, witch! Guards! This one shall experience the same fate as her father.
(Two gun-bunnies grab Abbie. They cart her out, followed by the Stab-Stabs, who are still holding Earless.)
WESTMINSTER: I don’t like you, bitch.
(He begins to walk towards the door.)
ANASTASIA: Where do you think you’re going?
WESTMINSTER: To be executed, with my wife and father-in-law.
ANASTASIA:Please yourself, maggot.
(Westminster exits angrily.)
RABBO: You and I need to have a little chat, Anna.
ANASTASIA:You will address me as Mistress.
RABBO: I will not.
ANASTASIA: You will!
RABBO: Will not.
ANASTASIA:Will too!
RABBO: Will not!
ANASTASIA: Will too!
RABBO: Will not!
ANASTASIA: Oh, shut up.
(Cut to Gumman’s surgery. His suitcase is on the desk and he is talking to it.)
GUMMAN: ... Luckily Anastasia seems to think that I’m on her side, and I’m not followed by armed guards, like Uulamets and Bunniquette are. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to be careful what I do.
FEMALE VOICE:What you have to do, is get me out of this stupid suitcase!
GUMMAN: But I can’t find the—
FEMALE VOICE: I don’t care! Just get me out! Break the lock! Shoot it off! I don’t care how!
GUMMAN: But you might get hurt!
FEMALE VOICE: Oh, yeah, great. I’ll spend the rest of my life starving to death locked inside a stinky little box, but at least I won’t get hurt. Thanks.
GUMMAN: Okay, okay, okay. Point taken, Little Miss Help-I’m-Going-To-Die-In-A-Suitcase. Jeez, talk about paranoia.
FEMALE VOICE: I’m going to talk about tearing your throat out, is what I’m going to talk about!
GUMMAN: All right, already! I’ll have you out in no time.
(Cut to the corridor outside Gumman’s surgery. The Stab-Stabs are dragging Earless along, followed by the gun-bunnies with Abbie. Gumman pops his head out the door and says:)
GUMMAN: Ah, Pommel and Pummel! I wonder if you could help me?
POMMEL: We’re busy, doctor-face.
GUMMAN: Well, this is important. You see, I’ve lost the key to my suitcase, and if I can’t get it open, a terrible plague will kill us all. Especially Anastasia.
PUMMEL: Well, in tat case, we’d better help. Us ninja bunnies are great at picking locks.
GUMMAN: That was what I was hoping.
(Cut to the bridge of the Insectblanket. Fuzzy and Sasha are chained to the wall.)
FUZZY: Oh, Sasha, I’m so sorry!
SASHA: This is not being your fault, Fuzzy. We all trusted Anna.
FUZZY: Oh, but you’re wrong! Remember Pirica’s many warnings! And Bunniquette never trusted her either! If only I’d listened to Ric!
SASHA: To think that my twin sister could be so mean!
FUZZY: I don’t even think she is your sister! I think she’s just a bitchy old bunny who dressed up like your mother to cause trouble!
SASHA: But she knows so much about mother, and about our home.
FUZZY: Well, so do I, but I’m not your twin sister.
SASHA: You might be.
FUZZY: I hope not. Incest isn’t my favourite game.
SASHA: It’s not as good as tennis.
(Cut to Gumman’s surgery. He is standing between Pommel and Pummel, who are working on the suitcase. In the background are Abbie and Earless, securely held by the two gun-bunnies.)
POMMEL: Right. Pass me the two-eighths lock-clocker, Pummel
(Pummel reaches into his ninja outfit and produces a small scalpel-type thing. He hands it to Pommel, who looks at it and says:)
POMMEL: No! I said two-eighths, you dummy! This is the four-thirds!
PUMMEL: Whoops.
(Pummel takes back the instrument and produces another, similar to the first. He gives it to Pommel.)
POMMEL: Idiot! This is the two-eighths key-slapper! I askedfor the lock-clocker!
PUMMEL: Sorry!
(Cut to the bridge. Anastasia, Rabbo and four gun-bunnies.)
RABBO: I’d like to lodge a formal complaint about you.
ANASTASIA: How dare you? To complain about me is to complain about your very existence!
RABBO: Well, there’s the problem. I’d sooner end my existence than spend my life serving you.
ANASTASIA: Am I really that bad? I meant it when I said I liked you, Chrissy. Perhaps if you just gave me a chance—
RABBO: Oh, no. You’re not conning me the way you did Fuzzy. I’m immune to your powers of seduction.
ANASTASIA: Oh, yeah?
(She grabs him and kisses him. He turns bright red and falls over backwards.)
RABBO: Holy cockroach soup! Woofle!
ANASTASIA: Works every time.
RABBO: ...As soon as I recover, I’m gonna fix you up for good. As soon as I recover, that is. You’ll wish you were never born, as soon as I recover. Ouch! What a kiss! If Bunniquette could do that—
ANASTASIA: Spare me. Now, do you agree to abide by me laws, or must I have your jugular turned into a camel’s swimming costume and your lungs used as water balloons at a Blind Mexican Sadists Convention?
RABBO: You don’t scare me. I’m tough.
ANASTASIA: Yeah, and I’m Sasha’s sister. Ha! You’re all a pack of brainless, gullible fools! Imagine, you all believing that I was actually Sasha’s sister!
RABBO: Oh? So who are you then? Who are you really?
ANASTASIA: Not telling.
RABBO: Go on. I promise I won’t tell.
ANASTASIA: No. You’d—Grr! You’re going it again!
RABBO: What?
ANASTASIA: Making me act like an idiot!
RABBO: Oh, yeah, blame the tailor. Just because I used to make clothes for a shop with a dumb name, everyone always assumes I’m the culprit whenever there’s trouble. Well, I’m sick of it. I demand to be treated with respect.
ANASTASIA: You’ll be treated with arsenic if you don’t shut up.
RABBO: Oh-ho! Bit of a firebug, are you? Naughty! You could start a—
ANASTASIA: Shut up! Shut up! Is there no way to silence you?
RABBO: Yes.
ANASTASIA: What?
RABBO: Yes, there is no way to silence me.
(Cut back to Gumman’s surgery. Nothing has changed since the last time we were here. Same characters in same places. Pommel is working patiently on the lock of the suitcase.)
GUMMAN: Hate to tell you how to do your job, but, uh, could you hurry it up? My suitcase is getting impatient.
POMMEL: This is a delicate job, pal. Can’t be rushed.
GUMMAN: A blind two-year-old wombat with no arms could pick a lock faster than you!
PUMMEL: Watch your mouth, buddy. My brother Pommel has a short temper.
GUMMAN: It’s a shame he doesn’t have a short lock-picking technique! If this goes on much longer—
POMMEL: Shut up! I’m trying to concentrate! I’ve almost got it!
GUMMAN: Yeah, right. Well... as long as I’m waiting, I might as well make myself useful. You say you want to execute Abbie and Jim?
PUMMEL: Yeah.
GUMMAN: I could put ‘em down for you. Right now.
POMMEL: Good idea.
GUMMAN: Fine. You two carry on with the lock.
(Westminster enters.)
GUMMAN: Good day, Mister Biggles.
WESTMINSTER:Abbie! There you are! If they kill you, they’ll have to kill me too!
GUMMAN: Okay.
(Gumman produces a large syringe.)
GUMMAN: Who’s first to die?
EARLESS: You devious traitor! How can you bow to Anastasia like this?
GUMMAN: What are you trying to say?
EARLESS: Kill me first. I’m old.
GUMMAN: We’ll see.
(He jabs the syringe into one of the gun-bunnies, who instantly collapses. The second gun-bunny is also stabbed before it has time to act. It too falls to the floor, unconscious or dead. The Stab-Stabs are concentrating on the suitcase and haven’t noticed.)
POMMEL: I’ve nearly done it.
(Cut to Fuzzy and Sasha in the Insectblanket.)
FUZZY: I’ve made up my mind, Sash.
SASHA: Oh?
FUZZY: I’m going to escape.
(He begins to pull at the chains that hang him from the wall. Cut back to Gumman and the others. Pommel grins.)
POMMEL: There!
(The suitcase springs open and Pirica leaps out, with a gun. She quickly shoots the bewildered Stab-Stabs, who collapse, stunned.)
PIRICA: Tie them up.
ABBIE: Pirica! But you stayed behind with the UBF!
PIRICA: Yeah, sure. Did you people really think I’d would leave Fuzzy alone with that Sarossy-Mammalworth bitch?
THE OTHERS: Yes.
(Credits.)

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