A Day in the Life of Forrester - Pt. 6
Payback's a... well, you know.
By: Karen Walker (Serris)
Co-Author: Stephanie Watson (SLWatson)

Disclaimer:  They all belong to BBI!
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Anticipation nipped eagerly at Clayton Forrester's heels as he sat at a large metal table, deep in the bowels of the Gizmonic Institute.  Since the loss of their satellite, the company had tightened security, and upon realizing that Forrester and his gooney sidekick were responsible for the "accidental" launching, they had threatened to fire both of the men, but instead of actually doing so, the company curtailed funds the two men were allowed.  The evil scientist had prevailed, however, by moving his entire lab down to the thirteenth subbasement of the complex, which require no money for rent due to a toxic spill that had occurred there before.  If only Gizmonics knew that he wouldn't really using the area for storage when he applied for it, then Clayton wouldn't be sitting there at that very moment.

With the money saved from not having to pay any rent, Clayton and Larry were able to buy enough computer equipment that they could easily communicate with the Satellite, along with a sufficient amount of chemicals to experiment with, a small wooden chair, a sofa, and a metal-framed bed.  Among the "borrowed" equipment, was an electric cooler that doubled for cold chemical storage and a refrigerator, a toaster that perpetually smoked on one side when in use (due to an old piece of bread that had been trapped inside), a coffeepot that only managed to brew weak coffee with a green tint to it, and a radio that only picked up a polka channel out of the desert somewhere in Australia.  Needless to say, most of the borrowing had been done by Larry, who held a certain unearthly attachment to the latter three of the items, and only managed to bring the first because it had been used to haul the other three.

Looking at all the objects around him that bore the Gizmonic's label, Forrester shook his head.  If he were ever able to afford his own lab again, he would certain be taking most of the company's things with him.  It was hard enough to struggle through rent without having to actually buy certain things like pens, beakers, toilet tissue, and labcoats.  

Picking up a syringe from on the table, the scientist flicked at it for what seemed like the fifteenth time, and sprayed a small amount of liquid into the air.  Despite this nearly continuous act, he didn't seem worried about running out of his home-brewed concoction as he waited for his so-called faithful sidekick to return.  It was bad enough that people knew that floor of the building was being used, but if someone were to find out that Forrester was actually running a lab out of the room, he would probably be arrested, and then someone would find out about Joel.

Ah, yes... Joel.  Quite an intelligent mind, which is why Clayton hated him so much.  In no less than a few days, the little twit had found enough spare bits and bobs to build himself a few robots, but why?  The evil scientist could only guess that boredom had driven the janitor to tinker, but he knew better, honestly knowing in the back of his mind that Joel wasn't really suffering when he was allowed to work with mechanical things.  Inadvertently, Clayton had given his victim everything he need to keep himself alive and in good mental health.  Of course, everything was working according to plan in the mind of the of the scientist, and he knew that as soon as Robinson was forced to watch that first horrible movie, he would crack like the rotten egg that he was.

Once again testing the needle, he frowned lightly when he found it to be empty, but shrugging lightly, he just stuck the needle end into a nearby beaker and slowly pulled more liquid into the semi-dangerous container.  It was only semi-dangerous, because it wasn't meant for him, but his unknowing sidekick.  Surely, the scientist would explain when the pudgy man finally returned.  Where was he?

Had he felt like a motivated man, Clayton might have done some cleaning or maybe even would have taken a nap, but the man didn't even have the willpower to more from his chair to the bed or the couch.  He merely rolled himself the two feet to the crude computer system, and began pressing buttons.  The scientist was the biggest fan of computers, so it took him a while to learn how to work the system, and had a pretty good grasp of what he was doing.  From what he could remember, he was either calling up to Joel and his 'bots on the Satellite, or sending a small nuclear weapon at a third world country.  Either way, he got what he wanted.

Muttering quietly to himself, he pushed another few buttons and looked up to see the face of the skyward janitor and a few pieces of scrap moving beside him.  Standing, he pushed the chair aside, reminding himself that as the soon-to-be leader of the world, he should be looking down on this man.  Grinning, he was just about to speak to his captive when he heard the door close, followed by that annoying, high-pitched whine.  "Clay! Clay! I think I was spotted on the way down here!"

Mentally cursing, the doctor had to mentally force back the desire to roll his eyes.  "Did you wear your disguise?"  He won't get impatient with Larry, he won't get impatient with Larry...

"I was wearing my disguise, but I'm just not very good in heels!"  More whining.  Yes, Erhardt had a whiney way of whining.  What a horrible combination.

"No one must know we're down here doing this!"  Forrester continued, once again thinking about his precious experiment going awry because of some stupid man who couldn't even wear a disguise right.

"I'm sorry."  Sure he was.

What good did the man do?  He was like a brick beneath a meat tenderizer.  "Well, it's time to call Joel about the experiment. Come in, Joely-Poely Puddin'-n-Pie!"  And here he was, poised like he hadn't seen the young janitor's face as Dr. Erhardt had come in.  He'd better make it look natural the second time around.

From the satellite up in space came the sleepy sounding reply, "Hey, sirs, I'm ready for this week's Invention Exchange. Check this thing out! I just made it, it's the world's only electric bagpipes. All right... "

Oh good Lord... they were singing.  All three of them belting out horrible sounds from their mouths, accompanied by the screeching, howling sound of bagpipes.  The wannabe dominator made a quick mental note to ban bagpipes when he finally took over the world (in no doubt a few hours,) and smiled his falsest smile, which sadly enough, tended to be his normal smile.  "I love it! Look... Larry's corneas are bleeding."  Well, maybe the statement didn't have a steady stream of sarcasm coming off of it, but it was certainly dripping. "Oh... Well! It's time we sent you our experimental nugget this week, Joel."  Ah, now the prelude of his brilliant plan to widdle away at Robinson's mind.  "Now, human underarm perspiration is something that happens to everyone after they go through puberty... which, I assume, includes you, Joel.  When's the last time you saw a dog sweat? Larry?"  Glancing over, he waited in anticipation for the reply.

"Never!"  Ahh... perfectly simple.

"Exactly! And why is that?"  Would he get two in a row right?

"Dogs don't sweat, that's why!"

Smiling inwardly at the enthusiastic reply, the scientist then moved on to explain. "Exactly! Because of the dog's pineal gland. Nature's own canine antiperspirant. Now. You take the pineal gland, and you make a serum. You get a dog, it doesn't matter what kind of dog, and you inject that serum into a human subject. In this case, Larry..."  Turning to his assistant, he apraised the area, finding nothing wrong with the situation, despite the shocked looks from the satellite.  "Now, let's see..."  He almost winced.  "It's so hard to find a spot I haven't hit...  Uh, what's this flower? And who's Roseanne?"  God, did Forrester want to know?

Erhardt seemed to be avoiding the question with some frustration.  "Oh, just stick it, will you?"  Obviously he wanted to get the situation over with.

"Sail on, Silver Bird!"  Take that!

Visably wincing, Larry scruntched up his face and whined, "D'oh, geez!"

"Now, instantly the serum races through the bloodstream like a Porsche Targa 911," Clayton explained, "commandeering each pore, slamming it shut, like the vault at your favorite savings and loan! And, checking the wetness sensors ...we see that they are free from wetness, and/or odor."  Happy with his invention, the scientist completely ignored the gasps of Larry.

"Antidote... Antidote," the assistant pleaded.

Grinning, he then looked at Larry and blinked.  "Oh! Yes, the antidote. There you go, the antidote, and here is your treat."  He handed both over in sucession before turning back to the screen.  Instantly, Forrester's blood boiled.  Joel's stupid little creatures were making fun of his idea, but what made it worse was that Joel defended him.  The little twerp doesn't even hold a grudge?  How normal is that?

What was that?  Something about them being fired?  He snapped back a quick reply, everything seeming to move in a blur after that.  Insolent conversation, bickering, a few flashing lights, and the next thing he knew, he was watching Joel and his companions watching a movie.  People watching people watching a picture show.  How odd was that?

For the moment, he was completely furious.  Things had worked exactly how he had wanted them too, but now there was these horrible happenings going on.  Who would have thought that the man would joke about the movies, and with those nasty little robots in there with him, it was all the worse.  However, Forrester was a resourceful scientist, and if non-quality wouldn't break the man, quantity certainly would.  Yes, every week Joel and his minions would be forced to watch another horrible movie, until the only human on the ship would crumble and willingly offer himself to be placed in a straight jacket.

In all honesty, the doctor didn't even realize that the movie was over and the troop had returned to chatter at him.  As Joel and his two robots, apparently named Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot, explained that they were going to have chips and dip with a third robot (--a third one?!  Where did that pink monster come from?), and it wasn't until he was discreetly tapped by Larry that he finally looked up.  "Okay, well, that's the end of the experiment, you guys. Hope you're happy," Joel managed, looking at his former boss.

"Oh, I'm happy. Are you happy?"  Larry looked over at Clay, smiling.

Grinning, Forrester held the clipboard that he had used to make notes on the experiment with a contemptuous smile, "Oh, I'm happy."  Handing the board to Larry, he snapped slightly, "Here. File this!"  Then, looking back at the screen, he smiled sweetly at his captive.  "Well, we'll see you next time, Joelie-Poelie Pudding-n-Pie!"

Yes, he was surely a genious, and he knew it.  Who else would come up with such a brilliant idea.  So, standing there with his lab assistant, he began to cackle evilly, nearly certain that he could feel the throne he would sit on when he was finally the supreme ruler.