Other Character Email Trogador RELOADED BIZNATCH/virus

The New Trogador Adventures

Episode 027: Virus When Trogador falls ill, a trip to the hospital may or may not be all that helpful. Meanwhile, Clyde becomes the new star of the household.

Transcript

{cut to black screen that says "IN A.D 30X8". The screen then changes it's text it to "A DRAGON COPIES THE B-PLOT TO A SIMPSONS EPISODE. THAT DRAGON IS..." The words disappear, and TROGADOR in orange letters appears. Below are the options "START GAME", "SECRET CODE WORD", and "OPTIONAL OPTIONS". The first set of words light up, and we get taken to this screen....}

{cut to The Living Room. Trogador and John are sitting on the couch, watching TV.}

TELEVISION: {various high pitched blips}

JOHN: Uhh. Trogador.

TROGADOR: {turns head} Yeah?

JOHN: What exactly are we watching?

TROGADOR: I'm not very sure myself. It's just on to have a cold opener so I don't begin right away with an email.

{Trogador takes the remote and turns the TV off.}

JOHN: Didn't you use that joke already?

TROGADOR: I don't know. I really don't have any means of looking that up.

{Trogador and John both look sternly at the camera for a second. They then look back at each other.}

JOHN: It's been a while since you did an email, come to mention it.

TROGADOR: Yeah, business has been a little slow. Ever since I endorsed the Cornballer...

{Whatever I said the TrogPilot sound effect was is heard.}

TROGADOR: Oh hey, speak of the devil!

{Trogador takes out the TrogPilot.}

TROGADOR: Bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem bem! Email's on the fiiiire, TROGADOR!

EMAIL HEREEEEEEEE

TROGADOR: What? I don't really understand this.

JOHN: Let me have a look.

{Trgador shows John the TrogPilot. He then gasps and slaps it out of Trogador's hand.}

TROGADOR: Hey, what was that for?!

JOHN: {distancing self from Trogador} You need to get your hands off that! You could have a virus!

TROGADOR: What? I didn't know you can get that from email...

JOHN: Well you can! I should know, I'm a doctor! Or something like that.

{Trogador starts to cough loudly. John panics and runs over to him. Trogador falls off of the couch and we cut to an overhead shot. He lays on the floor while Trogador is screaming. All of a sudden it cuts to black and we see Trogador's eyes. The email song is playing in the background. Trogador is flying in a plane of apparent black nothingness, aside from a giant skeleton and some illustrations of organs flying around. This montage that you're supposed to imagine yourself, okay, continues for a little while until the background shifts to a river. The music stops.}

TROGADOR: What's the deal with the river?

{A Greggo with an unkept beard, a blazer one size too small, and a cane limps on screen.}

GREGGO: It means you're incapable of carrying children.

{The scene abruptly shifts to a hospital room. Trogador is laying in a bed, holding a clipboard. The Greggo is next to him.}

TROGADOR: What? Who are you?

GREGGO: I'm Dr. Winston. John Winston. That's J-O-H-N, by the-

{A Jaro wearing a white coat hops into the room.}

WINSTON: Cottage!

COTTAGE: Aww, poo. You just had to go and ruin another lawsuit, didn't you?

TROGADOR: Uhh, hey, what's going on? I can't process all these minor character introductions at once.

WINSTON: I apologize for Dr. Cottage's...bedside manner. I'm Dr. Winston and hopefully you won't be seeing me.

COTTAGE: Oh no, we don't need your insight here, Winnie. This is worse than your typical, run-of-the-mill robot cancer.

TROGADOR: My condition is worse than robot cancer? I didn't even know robot cancer existed!

WINSTON: Yeah, neither do most people. That's probably why I have a lot of time to spend on other doctor's cases...

COTTAGE: Miss Ador, of course it's worse than robot cancer. It's...{looks at clipboard} email flu? Get out of here, you junkie.

TROGADOR: This is like the eight time I've had to say "what?!"!

WINSTON: Cottage...

COTTAGE: Email flu hasn't been sighted in 30 years, and it was halfway across the world. Now, unless you've been to some exotic locales lately...

TROGADOR: I was frozen alive in the Ice Zone for a while...

COTTAGE: Well, then I might actually be onto something with you being unable to carry a child. Good thing too - all the pills you'd pop would really mess the kid up.

TROGADOR: I'm not a junkie, I'm a licensed defender!

COTTAGE: So you mean to say you've never taken Power Crunches?

TROGADOR: Well...uh...we all do things we aren't proud of...maybe to lose weight...

COTTAGE: Oh, so now you're bulemic too? I already had this case, get out of here.

TROGADOR: But-

{cut to outside the hospital. Trogador sits on a bench, sighing heavily. Winston walks up to him.}

WINSTON: Listen, Mr. Ador, I'm sorry for my friend's behavior...again...now, let's just go back to your room.

TROGADOR: Yeah, that sounds-

{All of a sudden, Trogador falls off the bench and start coughing up blood. The camera gets very shaky. Winston is holding him down when Cottage pulls up in a motorcycle.}

COTTAGE: Aw, Winner, they always just have to cough up blood...

{cut to a hallway in The Warehouse. Kray is walking down it, looking around. He gets to a door and opens it. Drew is also looking around in this closet.}

DREW: Oh, hello Kray!

KRAY: Drew? What're ye doing here?

DREW: Looking for Mr. Trogador. I figured he might be playing hide and seek...

KRAY: Hey, ah'm lookin' for him too! Can't seem to find 'em anywhere...

{Clyde comes up out of a hatch in the closet floor.}

CLYDE: What the-{yelling down} Code Jericho!

DREW: Clyde, we're not going to spoil whatever illicit activities you have going on down there...although, I think it's fair for you to know that He does not approve.

CLYDE: Tch, like I care. I'm rebellious like that. Anyways, what are you bums doing in here?

KRAY: Lookin' for Trogador.

CLYDE: Did you check the kitchen? Or the dining room? You can definitely cross out the gym...

DREW: Aw, come on, Clyde, that's mean.

CLYDE: Like I said, rebellious! Regardless, I know just how we can locate Trogador.

{cut to Clyde's room, which is a carbon copy of his room in The Temple. I forget what it looks like, CAN'T LOOK IT UP, so you do it. It's in, like, this one I think. Clyde is sitting at a desk with his laptop out. Kray and Drew stand behind him.}

CLYDE: You see, John secretly had trackers installed in all of us, except we aren't supposed to know about it. He runs it on a secret program in his computer that I stole. Which he also doesn't know about.

DREW: Exciting!

CLYDE: I can only access it from the Internet, though, so just give me one second...

{Clyde clicks his mouse a few times and types on his keyboard for a second. He then looks up at the monitor and his eyes become very large. He gasps loudly and then squeals.}

KRAY: What? What is it? Did ye find him?

CLYDE: No, no, better!

DREW: The Purge passed?!

CLYDE: No...

{Clyde turns around.}

CLYDE: I'm on the front page of Xlogger!

DREW: {mumbling} Dirty bots...
KRAY: Wha?

KRAY: What's a, uh, Slogga?

CLYDE: Xlogger is a massive conspiracy on the Internet wherein people like me get to control the masses through things called blogs. Because when it's endgame, you better have an army behind you. And I'm on the front page!

{Crickets chirp.}

CLYDE: Front page!

{Crickets chirp louder.}

CLYDE: I'm on the-

{The camera pans over a little and Master Z is standing there, coughing.}

MASTER Z: Euch...it hurts my throat to do that after a while...

CLYDE: Z, Z! You'll never believe it! I'm on the front page of Xlogger!

MASTER Z: Yes, that's important...anyways, I believe you're looking for our big red friend?

CLYDE: Pff. "Big".
DREW: Yes, as a matter of fact!

DREW: Do you know where he is?

MASTER Z: John informed he's in the hospital. Came down with "email virus" or something like that.

CLYDE: Why are we still talking about that has-been? Is he on the front page of Xlogger?

MASTER Z: No, but I fail to-

CLYDE: Exactly.

{Master Z sighs and leaves the room. Drew and Kray follow. When everybody is gone, Clyde looks around, and then pulls out a hand mirror, looking into it.}

CLYDE: Hello, Miss. You've probably seen me before - I'm on the front page of Xlogger. I'm a big deal.

{cut to Trogador laying on a hospital bed in a dark room, with his eyes shut. A few seconds pass and his eyes open. He blinks a couple times and looks around. The camera zooms out to show Cottage observing him from behind a window in a room above him.}

TROGADOR: Ugh...what just happened...and why does everything taste like...{clicks tongue} hand...sanitizer?

COTTAGE: Oh, I'm sorry, do you prefer dragon's blood?

TROGADOR: Well, I owe a lot to dragon's blood...more than hand sanitizer, anyways.

COTTAGE: To answer your question, you were off being a junkie on a bench outside the hospital when you decided to cough blood all over my motorcycle. And I already spent enough on my mid-life crisis, thanks.

{Cottage takes out a small container and shoves some tiny Power Crunches in his mouth.}

TROGADOR: What...what is that?!

COTTAGE: Power Crunches. Why's it relevant?

TROGADOR: You...you were just chastising me for being a junkie!

COTTAGE: {bangs cane on window} Aha! So you admit it, finally.

TROGADOR: No, no! That was just a poor choice of words...

COTTAGE: Oh, it's okay, no need to cover it up. Everybody lies, you know.

TROGADOR: Well yeah...but I'm not a junkie! I only took Power Crunches like once! And then there was some stuff with Greg Allman back in the day...I don't really know what that was though...

{Trogador starts to stroke his chin.}

COTTAGE: Well, while you ponder your life as a groupie for old bearded has-beens, how about you read these test results.

{Cottage smashes the glass and throws a clipboard down at Trogador. He reads it.}

TROGADOR: Hey, this says I tested negative for any drugs in my system!

COTTAGE: Well, then it's wrong.

TROGADOR: You know, I'm not gonna take this from somebody like you, Cottage. You should be ashamed of yourself.

COTTAGE: Oh, Winner, not this crap again. Are you gonna lead a crusade against me too? Last time I checked, there wasn't a thermometer in your-

TROGADOR: I'm not gonna turn you in because you're apparently brilliant or something like that.

COTTAGE: That explanation was phoned-in.

TROGADOR: I got the script like, forty minutes ago.

COTTAGE: Ah, well, if you want a job done right, don't have a morbidly obese dragon do it! Now...let's get some surgery done...

TROGADOR: What?! What in Winner's name do I need surgery for?

COTTAGE: Hm. Mostly fun. But also kicks, because I get off on being a serial killer.

TROGADOR: {yelling} I want a new doctor!

COTTAGE: Tch, yeah, okay, like that'll work.

{Cottage hops down and takes out a small switchblade. He shuffles up to Trogador, who is very nervous.}

COTTAGE: The more you squirm, the more it'll hurt...

{Trogador closes his eyes and starts to shake. Cottage raises the switchblade above his neck before putting it back in his blazer and chuckling.}

COTTAGE: Dragons...

{Cottage shuffles off. Trogador opens his eyes and looks around.}

TROGADOR: Oh, Winner, no...what am I doing in Hell...this doesn't even fit my backstory...

{cut to The Living Room. Tampo is watching TV when Clyde hovers in. He stops and looks at Tampo.}

CLYDE: {loudly} Uhh. What.

TAMPO: Hmm? {turns} What did you say?

CLYDE: What are you doing in my seat?

TAMPO: Your seat? Listen, Clyde, this is my house, and you should be lucky I let you-

CLYDE: I'm lucky?! You're lucky I even let you see my face without charging you, plus shipping and handling.

TAMPO: Ooh, somebody's hot stuff! What did you do, get to level 80 on Realm of Revengeance?

CLYDE: Tch, yeah, like thirty times. But that's not why I'm amazing. I'm on the front page of Xlogger.

{Crickets chirp. The camera pans over and Master Z is standing there, making the noise. Random minions are watching him.}

JARO: {somehow claps} That's brilliant!
CHORCH: Wooo!

MASTER Z: Thank you, thank you.

CHORCH: Have you ever considered going on late night television? I'd watch.

JARO: I would too.

MASTER Z: My agent actually did bring that up to me, now that you mention it.

CLYDE: {chuckling} Ahh, Z, Z, Z...so young and naive...

MASTER Z: Hmm? Don't you have autographs to be signing, bigshot?

CLYDE: Not for another ten minutes. You should really heed my advice, Z. I've been in this game for a long time. I've seen ups and downs in my career - mostly ups though. And you just remind me of a younger...less successful version of myself...

MASTER Z: Oh, that's it. We're going to test how much of a celebrity you truly are, right now. We're going to the city and taking a little tour.

CLYDE: {sighs} Let me get my pen...

{Clyde runs out.}

TAMPO: What is this going to accomplish, can I ask?

MASTER Z: Nothing, just have to connect the b-plot to the a-plot.

JARO: Speaking of!

{cut to Trogador laying down in a hospital bed. He is playing a game on his TrogPilot. Cottage hobbles in and smacks it out of his hand with his cane.}

TROGADOR: Hey, come on, doc...

COTTAGE: I already told you, Miss, and I really don't want to again.

TROGADOR: Why do you have to be so insulting all the time? What's the matter? Parents didn't love you? Ex-girlfriend dump you for a guy in a wheelchair? Or is it the pills?

COTTAGE: Oh, wow, witty. Not sure how I'm gonna be able to fire back on that one!

TROGADOR: Can we just get to the part that you came in here for?

COTTAGE: Just came to tell you that all the tests came back negative, again. Looks like we're screwed here!

TROGADOR: Is this serious? I thought it was like, a cold...

COTTAGE: You really don't know what email flu is, do you?

{Cottage sighs and shakes his head. He hobbles out of the room and Trogador scoffs.}

TROGADOR: I'm going to Sacred Heart next time.

{cut to the hospital cafeteria. Winston is sitting at a table, eating his lunch. Cottage hobbles over and sits down next to him. He takes some of his food and starts to eat it.}

WINSTON: I take it your case isn't any closer to being solved?

COTTAGE: Nope. He's got a case of email flu and we can't figure out where it came from. Doomed to just keep on getting it forever. Or something.

WINSTON: Wait...you already knew it was email flu?

COTTAGE: Well of course I did. You were there, you should.

WINSTON: It means he got it from his computer in an email!

COTTAGE: Tch. Where's the fun in that?

WINSTON: You know, this is why you should really talk to Nooke about getting a diagnostics team...

COTTAGE: Fh, I don't need a diagnostics team, and even if I did, the rejects this place would throw at me would give me so much pain no amount of Tortan could subside it. I'd probably end up with some Australian who doesn't show up half the time or some dying floozie or a suicidal Jewish Indian or...

{Winston gets a call on his phone and he takes it out and starts talking inaudibly. Cottage is offended.}

COTTAGE: Oh, yeah, just blow me off, John. I hope you get a disease from tha-

{Cottage's jaw hangs open slightly and his gaze is calmed. He gets up from his seat and quickly hobbles away. Cut to Trogador's hospital bed. He is holding the TrogPilot, looking at the camera.}

TROGADOR: Well Deacon, my personal favorite is-

{Cottage hobbles in and smacks the TrogPilot out of his hand with his cane. He then smacks Trogador.}

COTTAGE: I thought I told you!

TROGADOR: What is so bad about using my TrogPilot?

COTTAGE: I dunno, maybe the fact that it gave you a disease?

TROGADOR: What? Oh, yeah, I got this email and then it all happened. I thought you knew that?

COTTAGE: Um. No.

TROGADOR: To be honest with you I'm not even feeling sick at all. I thought there was some undiagnosed problem you discovered while running a test or something, prolonging my stay...

COTTAGE: No...I was diagnosing your email flu.

TROGADOR: Does that mean I can go?

COTTAGE: Yeah. Sure. Whatever.

{Trogador mumbles something to himself and gets out of the bed. He picks up the TrogPilot and walks out of his room.}

COTTAGE: If only I could have kept him a little longer...Nooke is gonna be so mad...

{Cottage chuckles and hobbles out of the room. Cut to The Living Room. Drew and John are watching TV when Trogador walks in.}

TROGADOR: Hey guys. I'm back from the hospital.

JOHN: Oh, hey. Did it all go well?

TROGADOR: My doctor was a drug addicted jerk who I suspect was just manipulating everybody around me to make me stay longer so he didn't need to work.

DREW: Probably a robot...

JOHN: You bump into Clyde or Z?

TROGADOR: Nah. I didn't see them.

DREW: Hey, yeah? Where are they? Shouldn't we get that tied up?

TROGADOR: {long wince} Hmmmm, yeah....

JOHN: Eh....

{John and Trogador both shake their heads.}

THE END

Fun Facts

• The Simpsons episode I stole the plot of the last email from is $pringfield. Which is the one with the casino and all and yeah, you get it.
• If you don't understand the Cornballer joke then you're part of the problem
• The song Trogador sings is Teardrop by Massive Attack which is the theme for House. In fact most of this email is a House reference.
• Trogador previously took Power Crunches to lose weight in email 14.
• The Purge that Drew is referring to is not the same Purge that we all know and love, it's Mayorbot's plan to destroy all robots in the forum exclusive email written during the early stages of The Purge.