"One Small Step For a Mouse", Part 1
by ((the one soon to become Apricot the Gerbil))
Characters copyrighted by WB, and all that jazz.

The NASA scientists' shifts were over, and the sun had set a while ago. As the last scientist strolled out the doors from the room, the two lab mice watched him casually walk past the lab's calendar and mark a red X over the date: July 20, 1969.

The Brain looked down at the small piece of paper he'd been scribbling calculations on a moment before and smiled. He walked over to Pinky, who was laying in their cage's exercise wheel, and remarked, "It's certainly been quite the busy day today, hasn't it?"

"Oh, boy! Can I ever agree with that! Narf!" Pinky cheered, jumping out of the wheel. "You know, they were testing some kind of new food.."

"And while you received a smorgasbord of freeze-dried ice cream for meals, I was given mouse food. I know, Pinky. You don't have to keep reminding me about that. Anyway, that's not what I meant," replied Brain, giving his friend an impatient glance. "Don't you even know what happened today?"

"Hmmm...Were the Ghost of Christmas Past and Elvis spotted at a mini-mall?" Pinky guessed.

Brain frowned at him. "If you can't say anything correct, don't say anything at all," he quoted. "On this historic date, humans walked on Earth's moon for the first time. Do you know what they did there?"

Silence.

"I suspected as much," sighed Brain.

"Weeellllll..."Pinky said, trying to think and not succeeding much, "did they fall off the moon?"

"No, Pinky," Brain groaned. "They planted a flag where they had stepped!"

"*Really?*" asked Pinky, beginning to show some real interest.

"*Yes,* Pinky. That single fact leads to the totality of tonight's plan to ta-"

"Narf! I wonder how big the flag's grown since they planted it!" Pinky interrupted, grinning as he looked at one of the windows in the lab, where the moon could clearly be seen by anyone.

Brain didn't say a word. Instead, he rolled up the paper of calculations he'd been holding and rapped Pinky sharply over the head with it. "Hence, wherever they planted... I mean, _placed_... a flag on the moon, they claimed that specific spot for the Earth. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"Mmmn..No, Brain, I don't think I do," answered Pinky.

"I know you don't, but just try to anyway, all right?" Brain huffed very slowly and firmly. "If it worked for them, it should work for us. If we can place a flag of our own on White House territory, we should be able to claim it like the astronauts did the moon. Then we shall rule on high, for whoever controls the White House, controls America the Beautiful!" he explained dramatically.

"I agree. This year's Miss America *is* beautiful, isn't she?" said Pinky. "Now what does she have to do with the plan again? I'll take notes this time if you want."

Brain simply sighed a kind of 'I give up' sigh, and simply said angrily, "I shudder to think what would happen if scientists were to use your genes to sire cloned lab mice."

His eyes scanned the outside of their cage until he spotted a paper umbrella decoration lying just inside his reach. He grabbed it and, with the air of an expert, unlocked the door to their cage.

"Now, let us leave," he said. Pinky followed him to the nearby post office. By crawling through the door's mail slots, they were inside in no time flat.

"How're we going to get all the way to the White House from here, Brain?" Pinky asked.

"Watch, Pinky. Watch and learn," replied Brain. He walked over to a wastebasket and, with a little effort, yanked out an empty box and threw it onto the floor. "One person's trash can be two mice's treasure."

"Egad Brilliant, Brain!" Pinky said, grasping Brain's hand as soon as he got down from the wastebasket and pumping it up and down. "Oh, wait, no... What kind of treasure's in it? Jewels? Money? Cheese? Ooh, maybe it's those little road maps that fold out and never fold back-"

He could have gone on guessing what was in the empty box all night if Brain had not grabbed Pinky's ears and pulled them down so that the mice were eye to eye.

"Desist from that, Pinky, or I shall be forced to hurt you," hissed Brain.

"Oh. Sorry, Brain. Narf," Pinky mumbled.

"Never mind. Just help me locate some stamps," Brain ordered, letting go of Pinky's ears. In little time, they succeeded in addressing the box to the White House, sticking several stamps onto it, and even punching air holes into it. All would have been great if Brain's tail hadn't accidentally gotten caught in the scissors Pinky was using to put in the air holes.

After the box was ready and some gauze was found to wrap around Brain's mangled tail, the mice threw the box through the out-of-town mail slot, jumped through the slot and sealed themselves in the box. All was ready. Now all they had to do was wait. And wait. And _wait_. After what seemed like hours, still no one had picked up the packages.

"We're an-i-many, totally insane-y...hee hee, oh, I just love that song!" Pinky sang. "Come on, Brain. Why don't you sing along with me?"

"Well, Pinky, after the thirtieth chorus, I had to decide to either refrain from it or lose my sanity," Brain mumbled, sighing impatiently.

"All right then, let's try *this* again," said Pinky, smiling. "This is a movie title, four words..."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Pinky? I don't feel like playing charades."

Suddenly, the box was noticeably jostled about and thrown into a mail truck. The truck started up and began bumping along the road.

"One more try, Brain," Pinky urged, and began howling like a coyote with bronchitis while spiraling around in a few polka steps.

"'Dances With Wolves,'" Brain muttered.

"Right!" Pinky cheered. "I knew you'd be good at this-"

He stopped in mid-sentence as the truck apparently hit some very rough road. The box was rattled this way and that, and neither of the mice could speak for a few seconds in their shock. Then the truck began to swerve left and right, sharply, as if trying to avoid something on the road. Pinky began to look quite pale during all this, and one point began to look quite panicked for a moment, then swallowed something rapidly.

"This is still charades, isn't it?" Brain stammered nervously at his friend's sudden behavior. "At least, I *hope* you're trying to charade something out..."

"No, Brain...it's not that..I'm starting to feel a bit queasy, I am.." He then clamped his hands over his mouth, trying to hold something back.

Brain knew what that meant. He slowly backed away from Pinky, who was turning quite green in the face, and futility pleaded, "No, Pinky! Not here! Not now!"

Then the mail truck screeched to a sharp halt for Yakko, Wakko, and Dot, who were playing tag in the crosswalk.

"Wakko's it! Wakko's it!" Yakko yelled, and ran away. Wakko followed, yelling back, "I am not, you cheater!

Dot stayed behind, saying, "Ahh...It's so quiet now," until she heard something distinctly and almost violently hacking from inside the truck behind her. With a 'speew!', she ran, disgusted, to the side of the road.

"A scene change about now could help these guys out a lot, don'cha think?" Dot questioned. She grabbed a corner of the background and pulled on it until the old scene of the truck stopped on the road was replaced by a new scene. Dot then curtsied and walked away, saying "It's just a little thing I do."

The new scene was of a building. A mail plane was flying overhead, and the mice's package was on the top of the building, along with a few others.

Pinky burst out of the box, laughing, "The Eagle has landed! Heeheenarf!"

Brain crawled out slowly. "Thank goodness," was all he said.

"Uh, Brain?" Pinky asked, looking at their new surroundings. "Where have we landed, anyway?

They walked over to the side of the building and gasped at how high it was. Jumping off was certainly not an option. Then Brain noticed a red circle painted around the area where all the boxes were dropped.

"This circle seems to have been painted here purposely. I'd assume someone's going to pick up all these packages soon, but....wait a minute! Mail planes don't drop their cargo onto rooftops, or at least I don't think they're supposed to!"

"Well, leave it up to the Warners to think up the weirdest scene changes," Pinky simply said, and looked up.

"I suppose you're right, but.. what are you staring at?" Brain asked. He looked up just as a enormous box landed on the both of them. They struggled to get out from under it and succeeded in freeing their heads only.

"I am in excruciating pain, Pinky," said Brain calmly.

"Same here, Brain! Zort!" Pinky managed through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, the larger box burst open and the Goodfeathers flew out. "Finally, we got here," Squit said.

"Budda-bing! It's da only way ta travel!" Bobby chimed in. "Stretch out yer wings, see how they work," he instructed, beating his wings as hard as possible. The empty box on the mice was quickly blown off.

"Heeey, lookie what we's got here! Rats!" Pesto exclaimed. He started walking towards Pinky and The Brain, chuckling ominously.

"Rats? Poit! We're not rats," Pinky corrected.

"Jump!" Brain yelled to Pinky.

"*Jump?!* Whaddaya mean, 'jump'? It must be ten miles down, or even three!" Pinky gulped, peering cautiously over the building.

"I mean _jump_," repeated Brain, and shoved Pinky off the edge while leaping off as well. Then, thinking better of that, Brain raised his hands and froze all action taking place. It's the kind of thing only cartoon characters can do.

"Just a reminder," he warned while suspended in midair, "We are professional cartoon actors. *Never* attempt a similar stunt at home."

So saying, he raised his hands again and, in a flash, both mice were plummeting downwards once more.

Pinky pulled out a small script and riffled through it. "Those birds weren't in the script, Brain! Don't we get paid more for surprise cameos?"

Brain just looked down with eyes wide open in fright as the ground below swirled into more detailed focus with every passing moment.

Nearing the ground, Pinky fell onto a window awning and was gently bounced back onto the sidewalk.

"Whee! Oh, that was kinda fun, wasn't it, Brain? Uh..Brain?" he asked, looking around until he spotted Brain just as he whammed directly into the sidewalk a few seconds later. He then dizzily crawled out of the shallow hole he had created in the impact during his landing.

"Wheee. Scads of fun.." he said, and fell over.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*To be continued....*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*


"One Small Step For a Mouse", Part 2

As soon as Pinky helped him up, both of the mice heard someone giggling from above them. They looked up and instantly froze.

Mindy was standing not but a few inches away.

They screamed and tried to scramble away, but Pinky and The Brain were no match of speed for the overeager three-year-old. She picked them up and promptly tried to hug them to death. "Pretty mousies!" she laughed.

"*Put us down!!*" Brain ordered Mindy as loud as he could muster for one who was being hugged so hard.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

"We're presently involved in an elaborate scheme to take over the world, and we don't need anyone stalling us. This show only lasts thirty minutes."

"Why?"

"It would seem that.. Oh, now, let's not be starting *this* little conversation again!"

"Why?"

At that moment, Buttons dashed up to Mindy and, panting hard, collapsed. With a quick "Okay I love you bye-bye!", Mindy threw the mice over her shoulder and ran to hug the tired Buttons.

Upon landing on a soft pillow in a trash can a few yards away, Pinky mumbled, "Y'know, for a three-year-old, she sure has a good throwing arm, doesn't she?" Since Brain had landed in an open, empty dumpster nearby, he couldn't answer at once.

"Come on! Just climb out!" called Pinky, scurrying to the rim of the garbage can. This time, he got a response- namely, a short cry of surprise, as Pinky heard Rita say from inside, "Ooh! Look at that, Runt. A meal on wheels! Say, mousie..let's do lunch."

Brain bolted out of Rita and Runt's domain, with the cat in hot pursuit and the dog tagging behind. Pinky leapt out and followed his friend, who motioned to a small street sign nearby on which was written: CAMEOS END HERE. The mice ran past the sign while Rita and Runt were
stopped as though they'd smashed into an invisible wall. While gasping for lost breath, Pinky and The Brain noticed a sign arrow past the first one saying: UNBELIEVABLE LUCK THIS WAY. They followed its path and came upon...

"'Galaxy O'Fabrics, Washington DC outlet. Open 24 Hours,'" read Pinky as they approached an old brick building on the corner. "Poit! What unbelievable luck, eh, Brain?"

"Only in a cartoon could this happen," Brain sighed to himself. A rare smile lit up his face. "Best to make the use of it. Come, Pinky. We must prepare a flag." With that, he made his way towards the door.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*

"Finally! It's all done!" cheered Pinky as he glued the last piece of the flag together.

"It wouldn't have taken so long if you hadn't managed to get completely entangled in the glue," Brain muttered coldly.

"But, Brain, didn't the bottle say to 'self-apply'?"

His friend merely gave a deep, tired sigh. With one eyebrow raised high, he sullenly retaliated, "Think, Pinky, _think!_.....no, wait.. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself at this late stage of the plan."

"Oh, thanks, Brain!" Pinky chirped, totally unaware he'd just been insulted. He bent over to roll up the flag, but Brain stopped him momentarily.

"Turn around, Pinky. We wouldn't want any mucilage on the surface of the flag if it's to look genuine."

"Sure thing!" nodded Pinky. He spun around in a graceful pirouette, then stumbled and fell to the ground. The Brain walked up to him and scraped a large glob of glue from Pinky's back, which he tossed onto a pile of previously removed glue nearby. He then turned to his friend and said "Proceed."

"Okay! Narf," said Pinky. He rolled up the flag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Let us make haste to the White House!" said Brain with a sweep of his hand, and started to walk down the alleyway. Pinky turned to ask Brain which way they were going. With one end of the flag, he accidentally knocked The Brain right into the small mound of glue.

With a lot of sputtering, spitting, and an agitated yell of "*Drat!*", Brain struggled out of the glue that wasn't yet stuck to him. He walked up to Pinky, who couldn't help chuckling a little, and coughed, " I failed to see any humor in that."

*%*%*%*%*%*%*Still yet to be continued....*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*

"One Small Step For a Mouse", Part 3

"There it is, Pinky. The White House. In a short while, it'll be like putty in our hands," declared Brain when the mice had reached the enormous building.

"Wow! That'd be quite a bit of putty, wouldn't it?" Pinky asked. "Mind if I get a better look of it?" Brain, apparently deep in thought, motioned to the White House fence. Pinky walked right up to the fence, shoved his face right up to the wire like a child gawking at a candy store's display, and got his nose caught in the wire. It took the efforts of both of them to finally free him from the fence, after which Pinky rubbed his nose and wondered, "Zort! Umm..Brain? How're we going to get through the fence? It's a tad too hard to get through it."

"No need to fret, my friend. I've been thinking of that problem, and I do believe I have come up with a solution," Brain assured.

"Huh? I didn't think we came here to play the guitar!" Pinky cut in.

The Brain looked at his friend with a confused look on his face for a moment, then answered, "Congratulations, Pinky. You've just broken your record of time between attention span lapses." Pinky seemed ready to give a response, but a glare from Brain silenced him. He continued, "As I was saying, if the laws of cartoon physics has been as painfully lessened as they have been for this episode..."

He cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled at the sky, "Excuse me! Could we borrow a pencil for a moment or two?"

A few seconds passed before a huge pencil, glowing with the light of an animator's imagination, landed on him. Pinky scurried over and stammered, "Are..are you all right?" while fanning him with his hand.

"That was quite unpleasant," Brain replied, rolling the pencil off himself. Picking up the animator's pencil, he proceeded to draw a door onto the chained wire fence.

"That's one weird-looking door! Are you sure it's not something by Picasso?" chuckled Pinky, pointing at the sketch of the door, which could best be described as four sloppy lines which were barely connected and a doorknob.

"I can do splendidly without your critiques at this time, Pinky," muttered Brain, and threw the pencil into the air. "Could we use the paintbrush as well? *Without* the violent sight gag?!"

A large paintbrush descended and painted the door a dull brown. It disappeared, and Brain opened the door. Pinky walked through it, into the White House garden. "Egad! You astound me, Brain!" he exclaimed.

"You see, Pinky, anything is possible in a cartoon," Brain explained, then continued in a lower tone, "Especially this one."

As they were walking along the orderly trimmed grass, Pinky slowed to a halt. "What're we going to do about those guards over there?" he asked, pointing towards the flagpole. Brain walked in front of him and took a look. There were two guards standing around the flag.

"Don't worry about those guards, Pinky. I have a solution," Brain replied, putting his hands into his pockets.

"Well?" Pinky asked. "What is it?"

In response, Brain pulled what looked like a small, blue water balloon from his left pocket. "Voila!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

Pinky blinked at it once. "That's it?" he said doubtfully. When a nod from Brain was the answer, Pinky tried to stifle a laugh. "That's sure a nice balloon, Brain, but how's _that_ going to get us past the guards?"

His partner looked from side to side and whispered to Pinky what was in the balloon. Pinky stopped laughing. He squinted at The Brain, who was idly tossing the balloon from hand to hand and smiling smugly, and sputtered, "No! You wouldn't..."

"Yes, I would, and will, Pinky. One whiff will cause them to scatter indirectly while we rush in and take over! Now, come. It's the only way," Brain ordered. He grasped the flag from Pinky and unrolled it. The silhouette of a white mouse showed up starkly against the black background of the flag. Pinky, in turn, grabbed the balloon.

"Now, Brain?" asked Pinky while putting it under his foot.

"No, Pinky! Don't smash it yet. Wait until we're nearer, and when the guards are completely off guard," said Brain. He stood stationary as the guards talked on to each others about finding two-color Life Savers.

"Hee hee! That was a funny joke, Brain!" Pinky laughed.

"I am not incapable of humor," mumbled The Brain with a frown.

"Well, no, but the last time you really laughed was in 1992, and..."

Suddenly, a circle segueway jutted out from the bottom right-hand corner of the area where the mice were standing. Skippy popped up in the circle and smiled. "For those of you out there who don't know this, allow me to explain. Don't *_EVER_* tell a cartoon character that they can't laugh or be funny or other stuff like that. It's about the worst insult someone in this business can give. The usual result is severe physical injury by one ticked-off cartoon character. In other words...I'd hate to be Pinky about now," Skippy said.

He started to leave, but stopped as if remembering something. He came back and continued, "Oh, yeah. This has been a public safety message message and a shot at a cheap laugh." He picked up a bowl of cereal from offscreen and finished, "Mmmm. How I love Branimaniacs, the healthy and kinda nutritious cereal from Smellog's."

As soon as he said that, a hand from offscreen handed him a fistful of money. With a shout of joy, Skippy grabbed it and ducked down from the segueway, which disappeared.

Pinky became visibly worried at that, and looked at Brain, who was glaring directly back at him with eyes lowered angrily. "Oh...uh oh!" Pinky stammered slowly with a gulp as Brain started to stormily march towards him closer...and closer....and..

All this time, the guards hadn't even noticed the mice. "So, I heard that that guy was just a giant chic-... Hey, what just yelped?" one of them said, turning around to see Pinky and The Brain.

"Now, Pinky! Throw it! Throw the balloon!" ordered Brain. As the guard was about to grab them and Brain got no response, he turned around in confusion, saying, "Well, what are you waiting for?". Then he remembered- he'd just socked Pinky silly a moment before. Instead, he picked up the blue balloon and lobbed it right at the feet of the nearest guard, where it exploded and sent an oily cloud of stench hurtling through the cold night air.

"Perfume rejects. If they're too strong, they never fail," Brain nodded as Pinky quickly came to.

Pinky's first reaction was to leap up as if someone had punched his face, hold his nose, and squeak out, "Speew! Aaatchk- What's that smell?"

"A failed attempt to remake 'Chanel No. 5' at a cheaper price to the buyer," muttered Brain, half to himself as he rubbed his hands together. He didn't even seem to be noticing the smell all around him yet, so immersed was he in his anticipation of what would happen next. "Prepare the flag, Pinky."

Pinky searched around the grass for a fallen branch until he came across a nearby twig that had perhaps been overlooked by anyone who trimmed the lawn. He picked it up and scampered over to Brain, who nodded in approval and stuck the twig through the flag like a pole through a pennant. Ignoring the hacking gasps of the frantic, stumbling guards, the mice sped into the stench cloud which was rising slowly, at a height enough to still pester anyone who wasn't a foot high or less.

As the mice traveled through to the flagpole, off-color mist surrounding it, the 'Twilight Zone' theme could suddenly be heard quite clearly from some place or another. Pinky and The Brain turned to each other and shrugged. Pinky, much to the surprise of his companion, looked
upwards and yelled to the animators above as loud as possible for a mouse his size, "Would you all up there be *_QUIET?!_* We're trying to take over the world down here!!"

The 'Twilight Zone' theme stopped. However, Pinky's little outburst had been heard by the guards as well. They began to stumble in Pinky's general direction.

"What exemplary knowledge you show in judging the correct time to speak in a stentorophonic style of voice," Brain said sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks, Brain!" Pinky smiled.

Brain sighed irritatedly and walked, flag in hand, right up next to the White House flagpole, where he shoved the twig end of the mice's flag into the ground. It fluttered feebly.

"Wow! This is _it_, isn't it, Brain?" Pinky half-whispered, half-cheered.

The Brain responded with a slow, exhilarated smile. "Friends, Americans, and countrymice! Lend me your ears...," but he did not finish his speech. At that moment, one of the guards came up from behind and stepped right on the mice. He fumbled around through the grass, grabbed the flag, and rubbed some of the sting out of his eyes with it. Then he put the flag in his uniform pocket and slowly walked away from the squashed mice.

As the last of the perfume faded away into the air, Pinky came to and started walking a few steps until he tripped over Brain.

"Wha-?" whined Pinky, looking around. "Where's the flag? What happened, Brain?" When no response came, Pinky looked at his partner lying flattened into the lawn, winced, and peeled him off the terra firma.

Brain spat out a few blades of particularly green grass and weakly replied, "If this lawn has been recently chemically fertilized, I shall scream." So saying, he groaned and fell face down onto the ground again.

"Ooooh..you don't look so good! Does it hurt?" frowned Pinky.

"Now, I wonder if it does.." Brain mumbled into the dirt.

Pinky blinked once and said softly, "So, what're we gonna do now?"

To his immense surprise, the Warners stepped up behind him! After shrieking in shock of this unexpected sneak greeting, Wakko grinned and answered in his cockney accent, "Glad you could ask us." They led Pinky to a blank background.

"What, did the animators run out of background money?" asked Pinky.

"Not this time, but you've got a point. Think of all the money we'd save..." said Yakko.

Dot shoved Yakko aside. "Time to get to the point. The scriptwriter apparently had to work a plot hole you could drop a cow through to get anywhere from here, so just use this to get back to the scene you started from, 'kay, kiddo?" she instructed, handing Pinky a small remote control with only one button.

"Righty-o," Pinky nodded.

"Have fun breaking the laws of normal physics! Trust me, it's almost as faboo as watching Don Knotts videos!" said Wakko.

"Gee, thanks! Narf," waved Pinky, walking back over to the White House lawn. He sat down where he'd been a moment before, and admired the remote. "I like this plot, I do!" he chirruped, turning to Brain. "What else could happen?"

Pinky's happy face fell like a rock as he noticed a growling Doberman Pinscher towering over him. Between the massive teeth in its mouth, swaying limply back and forth by his zigzag tail, hung The Brain.

"So glad you could join us. Apparently, there are guard dogs at this edifice with a craving for mouse this evening," Brain huffed.

"Yeek!" squealed Pinky, nearly dropping the remote. He grasped it, aimed it right at the dog, and pushed the button. With a yelp, the dog- and the rest of the background- was wrenched off screen by an invisible force with a 'click' sound. The mice found themselves back in their cage in the NASA lab.

Brain shook his head and looked dazedly at the starkly different surroundings. "Pinky, what just happened?" he asked.

Pinky looked at the remote still in his hand. Suddenly, it flashed with bright light and vanished back to wherever it had come from. "I'm not quite sure m'self, Brain," he remarked in astonishment.

"Well, _that_ comes as a surprise to no one," said Brain under his breath. He took one more look around the lab, tapping his finger against his chin a few times, trying to make sense of it all. With a shrug of surrender, he turned to his companion. "Turn on the television, Pinky. Perhaps our efforts made it to the evening news again."

Pinky walked over to the small TV controller for the television outside their cage and stepped on the ON button. The set flickered to life to show 'The Brady Mob.' "Oh, I love that show!" exclaimed Pinky, plunking down in front of the TV set.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear." Brain said. "The news channel, please?"

When no answer besides a bit of Pinky's laughter came, Brain walked to the TV controller and switched channels himself. After a second or two of static, the screen turned to a news correspondent in front of the White House.

"Now, is that thing on or not? Oh!....Mary Heartless here live at our nation's capitol. Now, we've all heard the saying that 'good things come in small packages'. However, tonight that saying was warped to the bad as two guards were reportedly tear-gassed while someone apparently threw a handkerchief over the White House fence. It may have been some kind of demonstration for Be Kind to Animals Week, as it seems to have a picture of Mickey Mouse on it," the newslady said, holding up the mice's flag. "Despite rumors, it was probably *not* sent here by Elvis's ghost..."

Without looking at anything but the little TV, Brain stepped on the bright orange OFF button on the controller. "Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?" he asked.

"Well, I think so, Brain, but why don't they let his basset hounds shave the porcupines with their *ears*? I mean, they're long enough.." answered Pinky.

"The flag, Pinky, the flag," Brain reminded him, with a tone of disgust in his voice. "Those cretins! They thought it was a mere _handkerchief_!"

"Oh, I don't know about that, Brain. It did kind of look like one when it was on the news...." Pinky declared with a nod of the head towards the TV screen.

Brain opened his mouth to give a contradiction, but stopped. He thought that over. His face fell, and he covered it with his hands saying, "It *did*, didn't it?"

He sighed heavily and turned to Pinky, his confidence apparently back again. "Oh, well. As they say, we must go 'back to the drawing board'. Tonight we might have been defeated, but shoddy craftsmanship shall not play a role to be faulted on in tomorrow night's plan, my friend. There is *always* a 'tomorrow night'."

"Why, Brain? What're we gonna do tomorrow night?" asked Pinky.

Brain stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. "Would you believe... sturgeon fishing?"

"Oh, goody! I've never done that before! Narf!" cheered Pinky, and started doing a happy little dance around the cage until Brain tripped him, saying, I don't know why I bother."

"Oh, yeah. Now I remember. We've got to try and take over the world. Right."

*%*%*%*%*%*They're dinky; they're Pinky and The Brain!*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*

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*This message typed by Apricot, the gerbil of Acme Labs*
(h----.g----@cotter.mps.org)