Ummm, well, this particular fic came out rather fast. Anyway
this is a response to Jennifer's Technical Difficulty Challenge. I also think
I've read one too many Hank with Twinkies fics lately.
The postal worker looked down at the package she was delivering. Bridget was certainly glad she wasn't paying for it. Looking up she found the doorbell and rang it.
After waiting for a moment Bridget rang the bell again. Looking down at her watch Bridget was about to write up a Came By and You Weren't Here' note, when a man appeared at the gate.
"What." For a second Bridget almost saluted the dark man at the gate.
"Ummm ... Package for a Dr. Henry McCoy." The more the dark man glowered at her, the more Bridget realized why postal workers had a rep for going off the deep end.
The man opened the gate and reached down to take the package. "I ... I need someone to s-sign for it..." Bridget tentatively held out the electronic clipboard.
The man snatched it from her, signed, and grabbed the package single handed. He then proceeded to slam the gate in Bridget's face.
"Well, well. That was rude." With a huff Bridget marched back to her truck.
"MCCOY, PACKAGE." Bishop had already run a check over the box to make sure it was safe to open. "MCCOY." He shouted again as he headed for the kitchen where he had last seen McCoy.
Dr. Henry McCoy, a.k.a. Hank, a.k.a. the Beast, was just finishing a triple layer peanut butter, banana, and cheese sandwich when Bishop came roaring into the kitchen. "Huh?"
"Package." With a glower Bishop put the rather large package down on the table and left. Storm looked over at the package, "What's that, Henry?"
Hank set his sandwich down and found the shipping label. "Katrina's Spiffy Contraptions out of Willacoochee, Georgia." Hank silently wondered what he had ordered from there for a moment.
Then, suddenly, he let out a howl of glee, grabbed the package and ran out of the room. Storm stared in bewilderment at the retreating back of her friend.
"Oh well." Cocking her head Storm leaned over and picked up the sandwich Hank had left behind. She cautiously sniffed the curious creation and then took a tiny bite.
"Mmmm." Finding the curious creation rather good, Storm decided to take it back to her room and finish eating it up there.
Hank excitedly ran to his laboratory with his package. He was so excited he didn't even notice that Bobby was in the lab. With all due consideration, Hank gently laid his package down on the operating table and stepped back.
Hank smiled as he looked at the package. Then with a joyful giggle he leaped forward and ripped open his package ... inside was ... umm, well, it was...
"Hey, Hank, wha's that?" Bobby cheerfully chirped up. He rolled the chair over to the operating table and looked curiously at the object that lay in the tattered remains of the shipping package.
"This, my dear comrade, is a TD2001."
Bobby looked confused. "A what?"
"A Twinkie Dispenser 2001." Hank jumped around joyfully.
Bobby gave Hank a rather blank look.
"Here, watch." Hank picked up the strange contraption and carried it over to his desk ... umm ... the floor next to his desk.
Pulling open several drawers, Hank began tossing out Twinkies ... a lot of Twinkies. He then ran over to a cabinet and tossed even more Twinkies out. And so he went, until there was a pile ... umm and VERY large pile of Twinkies in front of the strange contraption.
Bobby stared in amazement at all the Twinkies. Then he reached down to take one.
"Hey, why'd you hit me?" Bobby asked in an injured tone.
"MY bubblicious pastries of creamy goodness."
"My Twinkies. Do not touch." Hank moved the contraption a little, and then opened the top and front. He started inserting Twinkies into the machine.
Ten minutes later he had finally made it all the way through the pile. Only one Twinkie didn't fit into the contraption. For a minute he contemplated the Twinkie, then observed the Twinkies in the contraption.
"Bobby, my dear compatriot, I have, in my infinite wisdom, decided to bestow this last Twinkie upon you."
Bobby quickly took the offering and wheeled back to enjoy the gooey treat.
Hank turned back to the contraption, closed and locked it. Smiling he turned it so Bobby couldn't see the front of it.
"Hey, I can't see what you're doing," Bobby complained.
"That's the whole point. The function of this delightful devise is so that you, you traitorous pilferer, can no longer pinch my Twinkies."
"Oh. Well if your going to be that way about it, I'm leaving." Bobby turned and sulked out of the room.
With an almost psychotically gleeful grin, Hank turned back to his new, wonderful contraption. He turned a knob, pushed a button, flipped a switch, and then pulled a handle.
Hank tried again.
Hank frowned, and went over to the remains of the package and shifted through them until he found the directions.
He began reading them aloud. "Remove ... blah blah, open up, blah blah ... place Twinkies inside..." He paused, "Before closing set the keypad's code..."
With a howl Hank ran back to the demonic contraption that was holding his Twinkies hostage. After a through examination, Hank found the keypad and began punching numbers in.
Several hours later Bobby and Storm were out by the pool enjoying the sun.
They watched in amazement as Hank came bounding out of the house, with the strange contraption under his arm. He heading out to the shed.
Then they heard several loud bangs and crashes.
Several minutes later Hank came back around the shed, now carrying a large number of slightly damaged Twinkies. He then disappeared back into the house.
Storm looked over at Bobby in perplextion.
Bobby smiled, "The Twinkie Dispenser musta not wanted to give Hank his Twinkies back."