The Most Terrible Horrible No Good Uncle Pennybags And His Lust For Roseanne

By Nicole

"Jolly good, then..." Clive Anderson said briskly, rubbing his hands together with a slightly manic giggle. He was a small, balding man with bright eyes and a knowing, arrogant smirk. "Colin, are we ready?" Tall, fair-haired Colin Mochrie wandered into the room, his brown eyes vacant.

"Yes, Dr. Anderson, the subjects are prepared." he said in a soft monotone. Clive slipped into his blood stained lab coat, and walked into the next room. He smiled happily when he saw the cage set up in the middle of the room. Two small white rats were together in the close quarters, scratching and biting at each other.

"They are ill tempered, then?" he asked of Colin.

"Oh, extremely." Colin assured him, adjusting the large laser that pointed at the cage. "They're at each other's throats constantly."

"Brilliant, just brilliant." Clive's eyes flashed with sadistic glee. "Well, then, prepare to flip the leve-" The gonging of the doorbell boomed throughout the spacious mansion. " Who the hell could that be?" He glanced at Colin pointedly.

"Why don't I get it?' Colin said with a dull smile. He left the room at a steady pace, walking down the gloomy hall. He swung open the door.

Greg Proops wiped the rain off of his glasses, peering up at Colin. Water dripped from his frizzy hair, splashing his natty black shoes.

"Oh, um...Colin, is it?" he asked, not caring. "Look, where's your...partner?"

"The doctor is busy, Mr. Proops. How may I assist you?"

"Well, tell that queer Brit that he better get his mysterious lab equipment off my property!" Greg snapped. 'Where is he; I want to speak to him!"

"No, you can't-" Greg pushed past Colin, storming down the hall.

"Anderson!" he yelled. "Anderson, I want to talk to you!" He shoved his way into the laboratory.

"Proops, what are you doing in here? This is extremely delicate equipment!" Clive exclaimed, trying to get in Greg's way.

"Look, Ander- what the hell are you doing in here?" he gasped.

"Colin!" he yelled. A breathless Colin came rushing in.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Anderson, I couldn't stop him-" In his haste, he brushed against the switch to turn on the laser. There was a shudder, and then loud crackling as a laser beam shot out, catching Clive and Greg in its light. They glowed, paralyzed, and then stared at their lower halves in utter horror. Clive's gray trousers merged neatly with Greg's black ones at the hip, melding the two men together solidly.

"Oh, dear God...Colin!" Clive screamed. Greg's eyes were wide with terror.

"What kind of experiments do you do here, you freak?" he demanded. Clive shot him a withering look, and turned his attention back to Colin, who had disappeared smoothly. "Anderson, listen to me As soon as we get unhooked, or whatever, I'm getting the police and the humane society over here-"

"We won't be getting 'unhooked' any time soon, my friend." Clive mumbled. Greg's eyebrows arched sharply.

"You mean there is no reversal for this kind of thing?" he demanded.

"Of course not, you fool." Clive exclaimed. "This is the first time this experiment has ever been attempted! I'm light years ahead of anyone in the field!"

"So we're stuck together at the hip until you come up with some sort of cure?" Greg's voice had weakened.

"A simplified explanation, but essentially, yes." Clive lowered his head and sighed. "Colin! Get in here!"

***

"Stop looking over my shoulder." Clive snapped.

"Your shoulder. Clive's shoulder." Greg said dryly. "It's connected to my body, too, you know."

Colin slowly shrank away from the pair as they bickered. They had a history of violence, which was admittedly hilarious to behold, but could often put the observer in considerable peril. The doorbell rang, and he hastened to answer it. Peering out the peephole, he saw a very tall, lanky man in US Postal Service clothing. He opened the door, looking up.

"Hello, I'm Ryan Stiles, your new mail carrier for this route and-" He stared at Colin. "Excuse me, but you look very familiar." Colin shrugged.

"I don't think I know you." he said apologetically.

"Colin, who is that?" Clive called.

"Our new mailman...Ryan Stiles."

"Ryan!" Clive drew in a sharp breath. "Colin, get back insi-"

"Phil!" Ryan gasped. "That's it, you're my long-lost brother Phil!"

"What?" Colin exclaimed. Clive and Greg were attempting to make their way down the hall, cursing and quipping all the way.

"Phil, it's me, Gary. You were kidnapped by an evil scientist-yup; there's the guy- when you were about 16. He wanted a lab assistant." Clive tried to grab Colin's wrist, but Greg had become suddenly interested in a quarter on the floor, and bent to pick it up. Clive, thrown off balance, fell down on top of Greg, and they became a furious tangle of arms and legs. Colin looked at Ryan.

"But my name is Colin, and you said yours was Ryan."

"That's because mom was so devastated, she ran off with this guy Brad Sher...Sherwood, I think? Something like that. Dad was furious; he wanted nothing that reminded him of Mom. Including my name. SO he had it changed."

"And I just really think you look like a Colin." Clive explained from the ground.

"So, I was kidnapped...why didn't you tell me, Dr. Anderson?" Colin asked.

"Because I needed someone to help me, and I couldn't trust you to stay." Clive said pathetically. "I like you, Colin, and I feel bad, but I have to have help, especially with this twat being attached to me."

"Come on, Phil, let's go." Ryan/Gary said. Phil looked at Clive sympathetically.

"I wish I could find someone-" A small, energetic man with dark hair and a soft British accent bounced up to the door.

"I am your singing telegram-" Clive smiled fiendishly.

"Welcome, Tony." Clive and Greg dragged the still singing man inside, slamming the door. Phil and Gary smiled at each other, and walked off into the setting sun. Then they burned up in the corona.

THE END