Of Mice and Meetings II: Back on Tangent...er, Target

[Most of the cast is the meeting room already, chatting amongst themselves and munching on snacks. Jennies is seated at the head of the oval table. Bob, Ferdie, and Beak sit opposite the San Viano Police force; Iiwi and the villains sit farther down on the opposite end. For swiping the remaining snacks last meeting, Ivan was tasked with bringing the food for this one, and sits at his customary seat, grumbling about being forced to be "on time." Newt sits off in the corner with a typewriter, reading the newest edition of Gadgets & Gizmos. Gracie sits by the snack table, reading Vogue and warily eyeing the "snacks" Ivan has brought.]

Jennies: [bangs gavel] Okay, this meeting of Bob Kiwi & Company shall now come to order. Howís everyone? [assorted mumbles from crew] Great to hear that. Whatís on our agenda?
Bob: What agenda?
Jennies: The agenda I type-...ah, wait, I never got around to that. What did we accomplish last meeting?
Ferdia: Iíve been wondering the same thing myself.
Ferdie: Wait, you mean weíre supposed to be getting stuff accomplished at these things?
Jennies: [sighs] Never mind. Newt?
Newt: Yes, Jensios?
Jennies: What did we talk about last meeting?
Newt: I canít say, Jensios. But I do remember it being absolutely hilarious.
Iiwi: Oz mentioned wanting to get written back in...
Beak: Hmph. If he really wanted to get back in heídíve shown up to this meeting.
Bob: Well, maybe he would have, if someone hadnít told him the city was unguarded.
Beak: You looking for a footness up the noseness?
Jennies: Guys, can we save the violence until after old business?
Ivan: [muttering] Thatíd be a record for this crew.
Bob: Only because we have to have you evil people here!
Ivan: What, you donít think I have better things to do than rot in a meeting? This used to be my private scheming time!
Ferdie: Can we get back to the point? Last meetingís business? I remember Ivan getting yelled at for something about a script.
Bobetta: And everyone agreed to perform in my upcoming ballet.
All: WHAT?!?!
Ferdia: WE DID NOT!!
Ferdie: Oooh, recurring nightmares of ballet...
Jennies: [groans] Okay, forget old business. On to new business. First off, Iíd like to congratulate Ivan on actually being on time for once. [limited clapping] And for bringing snacks. [more unenthusiastic clapping] Admittedly, I wasnít expecting a full five-course Italian feast, but itís a nice touch.
Ivan: [shrugs] What, you were expecting McDonalds? Italians donít do fast food.
Bob: But youíre not Italian.
Ivan: Thatís completely *beside* the point.
Iiwi: Can I get the recipe for this fettuccini cheese sauce?
Ivan: Youíd have to take that up with the chef.
Bobetta: Chef? You have a chef?
Ivan: [shrugs] Hey, I own San Vianoís Little Italy!
Jennies: Moving on, how about a big round of applause for Beak, who saved five helpless bananas from fiery doom when they were accidentally left on a hot stove. [muted applause]
Beak: Could we have a moment of silence for the sixth baNAna, which perished en route to the Burn Center. [Silence lasts for a few seconds before Ivan starts drumming his fingers on the table. The sounds of Lita & the Sign Holderís handheld electronic games can also be heard. Iiwi preens her feathers; Ferdie sneaks back to his seat with a canoli.]
Jennies: Okay, next issue. My printer attempted to assassinate me last month. Now, while Iím not going to ask who put it up to such a thing or how much it was offered, I would like to let it be known that the money for its subsequent repairs and psychotherapy is coming right out of this groupís budget.
Ferdie: Budget? We have a budget? As in, money?
Jennies: Well, you used to. Medical bills are expensive, you know. Anything else youíd like to discuss? Moans, groans, complaints?
Bagels: Actually, Jennies, itís been brought to our attention that you consume a large amount of our poor defenseless brethren.
Jennies: Hey, yeah, well, Ďa bagel a day...í
Bagels: You are ordered to cease this murderous spree at once!
Jennies: What? Stop eating my bagels? Are you kidding?!? Iíd go through withdrawal!
Bagels: Then you leave us no choice but to kill you.
Jennies: [evilly] DíGal, you wouldnít happen to have any of those Cream Cheese Grenades left, would you?
DíGal: [pats jacket pocket] Several. You want Ďem? Take Ďem. Free of charge, I might add. [grins evilly] I still owe those overgrown breakfast rolls for trying to leave us at the mercy of the Ducks.
Bagels: [worriedly] Perhaps we were a bit hasty before. After all, they are only very small bagels. And most of them are from Marriott, so they arenít even real bagels...
Jennies: Nice to see we worked this out peacefully. Any other business?
Galaxia: Yeah, how much longer do you think Kiwis in Space is gonna take? Iím very busy, you know.
Jennies: [sarcastically] Well, join the club! This thing is huge, and Iíve been busy with other stuff!
Bob: But, Jennies, itís summer vacation now!
Jennies: Doesnít mean my work hours are any less.
Ivan: Tsk, tsk, tsk. No rest for the wicked, eh?
Jennies: [points gavel at Ivan] Shut up, you. Iíve also had to resurrect a PC three times this week alone!
Bob: [coughs into fist] Ahem! Getamac! Ahem!
Jennies: What was that, Bob?
Bob: Huh? Just my allergies. I didnít say anything.
Jennies: That reminds me, the Mac Expo is coming up soon, right?
Bob: Boy, Jennies where have you been?
Jennies: Busy!!
Bob: Good thing we went ahead and got all our tickets, then.
Jennies: [grumbles something unintelligible] Anything else? No? Great, then scat, so I can get back to proofreading Kiwis in Space and working on the 5 other plots running amok in my brain.

[The crew begins shuffling out slowly, but most of them never get past the snack table, which is being mercilessly raided by everyone but Ivan, who is busy threatening DíGal against causing anything even remotely serious in the way of damage to New York City. DíGal, however, is more interested in beaning Drake and other Invisible Ducks in the head with meatballs. The Bagels have joined in by the time the Ducks turn to find their assailants, and a food fight quickly ensues. Ferdia, Squeaks, Casey, and Trevor watch the fight nonchalantly, munching on calzones and making small wagers on who will draw their weapons first (Drake), whether or not DíGal will turn on the Bagels (he does), and whoíll get stuck with the cleaning bill (Bobetta, who surprised everybody when she responded to a stray meatball by heaving a huge bowl of spaghetti sauce at DíGal Ė and hitting Jennies instead). Lita, the Sign Holder, and Newt get into what seems to be an intense intellectual discussion on whether or not Bulbasaurs are plant-eaters and if Pikachus can be used as portable generators. (Ivan and Iiwi begin plotting the demise of certain video-game and cartoon makers during this debate. Bob joins in when they begin talking about including the makers of Digimon on their hit list.) Fed up with the loiterers, Jennies threatens to come up with a Medieval Time-travel plotline, making everyone bolt for the door (carrying the food tables with them).]

Jennies: Finally, some peace! Now, on with proofreading!
[Beak sticks his head back around the corner.]
Beak: Say, Jennies, what roles would we all be cast in for the Medieval thing?
[Bob lunges at Beak, dragging him out of the room.]
Bob: Forget him, Jennies, heís just my stupid kiwi.

Jennies, however, has already taken out a sheet of paper and is sketching out the Medieval plotline.