Ah-ha! There they are!
Blobby: Mr. Demon?
PF: He has pushed his Flying Devil armies through the storm and now they are amassing off the shore.
PF: I can see through my Monocular Discoverator as well that the rural Foodlandian Zombies are in boats…
Blobby: The delicious horror!
Mom: My Foodlandians are ready, but they’re also worn down to the bone from fighting… well, at least the ones with bones…
PF: Let your forces rest, Mom. The first charges can be handled by us Professors…
Mom: That seems fine in theory, but they keep trying to “Discover” us… OW!
Professor Flagglesham: Got her! Now, Madame, if you would not mind, I should like to begin dissection.
Mom: Get this tag off of me! Fliggins, control your countrymen!
PF: Right-o. LADIES AND GENTLEPROFESSORFELLOWS! Leave the Discovering alone! The time is near that we must gather our pudgy, pasty resources as a collective unit to defend our homes! Worry about your tenure later, we must now worry about OUR VERY LIVES!
Professor Yabbleglam: Is there a difference?
PF: Yes, you nincompoop! We must repel the advances of evil with our ACTUAL nubbins! Not merely discuss it, holed up in a classroom! Theoretical discussions should only exist to improve the physical world we live in, not the other way around! We are more than eggheads! We are egghearts, eggbodies, and egganimals too! Professors, I urge you, let us battle in the real world now, so that we may discuss it comfortably over tea and biscotti later – WHEN WE ARE FREE! HUZZAH!
Mr. Demon: A very moving speech, Professor FARTINS. Seriously, it was actually very moving. BUT NO MATTER. I am fairly confident we will overwhelm your meager defenses in a sec, and be ready to enslave your people and their knowledge soon after. I am just brimming with confidence about this!
Blobby: What a jerk. You’re a jerk!
Roy: Who’s that guy in the trench coat with the bad comb-over next to Mr. Demon on his cloud?
PF: I cannot tell. It does not matter. Now, PROFESSORS – ATTACK!
Professors: Here-here! Here-here! Huzzah!
Mr. Demon: Devils, go spank those tub-mounds so we can get those secrets from their library.
Flying Devil: You gots it, boss! Let’s gets ‘em boys! RARRRR!!
Mom: Foodlandians, get ready to attack!
PF: Save your strength, Mom. Let the Professors do battle first… Fire the Rhetorical Dialogue Cannon!
Professor Dimplepuss: Right-o!
*shoooom fssssss BOOOM!!*
Flying Devils: These numbskulls is flyin’s right at us, what gives?
Professor Dimplepuss: I say, my good man, might I speak with you in my office hours.
Flying Devil: Hey, gets off me! I can’ts fly with a bigs heavy nougat man holdin’s ons!
Professor Dimplepuss: I was just wondering, chap, do you not suppose that you are more or less just a cog in the clockwork? That is to say, are you not feeling exploited by this Mr. Demon here?
Flying Devil: Oh, I don’ts knows…
Professor Dimplepuss: I mean, whose war is this, chap? His or yours? Did you have dreams before you came here? Did those dreams involve being torn to pieces in some foreign land?
Flying Devil: Nos! I wanteds to be an architects! I don’ts wanna be in the corporate war machine!
Professor Dimplepuss: I see, tell me more…
Mr. Demon: What the..?
PF: Fire the Grammar Tutor Hang-Glider Slingshots!
Flying Devil: What’s alls this heres?
Professor Sigglebiggle: Oh, no no no. That will not do. Say, “what is all this here?”
Flying Devil: Whats?
Professor Sigglebiggle: You ought to repeat after me, or you shall never pass this class.
Flying Devil: Oh nos! I wants to gets an As!
Mr. Demon: Stop that! Stop listening to the paunchy flying tweedholes!
PF: Now! The acceptance letter flashbombs! Fire fire fire!
*BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP BAP*
Flying Devil: Hey, what’s this things? “Dear Flying Devils, We ares delighteds to notify yous that yous been accepteds to Professor Island University!” Hey, sweets!
Mr. Demon: STOP THAT! This is the problem with cheap labor – Devils! Devils, regroup! Stop reading those acceptance letters! Hey, you! You, Flying Devil, get over here!
Flying Devil: Oh heys, what’s up, Mr. D?
Mr. Demon: Get back to battling!
Flying Devil: I’d likes to helps fight, but if I’m gonnas get this PhDs in astrophysics, I better hit these books! Calls me this weekends thoughs, maybe we can hang outs or somethin’s…
Mr. Demon: Where’d he get that backpack… You! Get back to fighting!
Flying Devil: Yeahs, maybes I can fights later tonight, but I gots a three hour appointment in the University Writing Lab… Laters!
Mr. Demon: Gah! Fall back! Regroup! Argh!
Mom: Good job, Fliggins.
PF: Thanks, that should at least stall those Devils, though we still have those Food Zombies to worry about. Let us dig in for the good fight, eh Mom?
Mom: It’s an honor, sir!