Dr. Chronobob prepared to turn the dial

Chuckling to himself, he knew that his evil lord would enjoy destroying Jon, especially with the gladiator's brainwaves deluded into making him believe and behave like a scared little boy.

Suddenly, the door to the lab exploded! Through the smoke I jumped, followed by Jan the Intergalactic Aviator.

"Whu -- What?" Chronobob stammered.

"Please," I answered. "Of course we knew that we were being monitored. Whatever's affecting me had to be in here. This is the machine, I assume?"

"Oh it is alright," the scientist composed himself and threw the switch. "But you're too late. My dark master will destroy you here instead! Ha ha!"

"What?" I gasped. "Nooooooooo! I-- I... Pwease nice mans, don't let him huwt me. Pwease nice Mr. Mans?"

Dr. Chronobob laughed maniacally.

"There is something we have to tell you," Jan stepped forward.

"Oh bother! What is it?"

"Your machine isn't working so well anymore!" I laughed.

In a hail of gunfire, the Galvanizing Neural Age Transducer erupted into sparks and flames.

"All of your resources, squandered," I shook my head. "Such a waste."

"I know!" Chronobob squealed. "But that's what he wanted!"

"Why not use your machine for good?" Jan asked. "Maybe develop a cure for Alzheimer’s or cancer."

"What? No no, I couldn't."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I'm an evil scientist, human," he spat. "My inventions are made to hurt people, not help them!"

"Well, where you're going, you won't be able to hurt people for a long, long time," Jan rested the butt of her rifle on her hip.

"No not space jail!" he blurbed.

"I am afraid that my favorite scientist won't be leaving any time soon," said a voice from the doorway. I looked and saw him, the dark armor of an evil lord, the long cape, the shock of unruly blond hair circling the face twisted with evil. My nemesis was none other than


"Garth Vader!" Jan and I called out together.

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" the master of darkness hissed mechanically.

"But why me?" I asked. "I've never met you before."

"Because you're good, and good is lame," Garth Vader hissed maniacally. "You're lame. You're a lameaholic, you go to bars and order lame and Cokes. If you were an ice cream, you'd be pralines and lame."

"Oh come on!" I sighed. "I'm not lame. I'm a hero to the everyman, and that will always be cool. You, on the other hand, are some sort of refugee from a Saturday Night Live skit that has long since passed it's expiration date. You, sir, are the lame one."

"No way, man," Garth Vader shook his head. "Some thing's just don't go out of style. It's like Def Leppard, man."

"OK," I replied. "Whatever."

"And I see you brought Jan with you," Garth leered. "All I have to say is schwwwwwing! You're a hottie! If you were a robot sent from the future to kill me, you'd be called the Foxinator! You're so incredible, I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Ew," Jan stepped back.

"Look this is all fun meeting you and everything, but I've got to get going," I said. "We destroyed your toy, so we'll just pick up Hudson and be on our way."

"I don't think so," Garth answered. "I'm still going to have to kill you."

"Not so fast!" hissed another mechanical voice from the door. "This man is not the real Garth Vader."

We all looked at the door and gasped.

To be continued. Duh.