so here i am another rainy night in ames, iowa. i cant believe they put me in the witness protection prgram , all over the whole condoleeza rice and barney the dinosaur affair. its ridiculous, i mean really let me tell you the story, here i am minding my own business watching pork’s III eating some chef boyardee, when i get this knock on my door. i could not beleive it there was my cousin , i have not seen him in years , but there he stood, i was alll wtf brings you here,and then he tells me, im in trouble here i am working at bj local pub…i needed a pianist so i put up this help wanted sign , when in walks skeeter with a painter. so i says “you fool, i said pianist!” well anyway back to the story so im trying to get me a new piano player when in walks barney the dinosaur wearing nothing but a smile , flak vest and helmet..i says jesus h christ barney whats going on ?…and he tells me , here i am eating raw oysters singing love songs to children when condoleeza rice walks over slaps my in the lip and hands me this note….so i open it and read. it says 2004 and 2005, she was ranked as the most powerful woman in the world by Forbes magazine and number two in 2006 (following the Chancellor of Germany, Angela Merkel). She is also one of only three people to have been ranked among the world’s most influential people by Time magazine more than three times..and then it says she was also 2007 women of the month in playboy….now she needs our help to cover it up….so im thinking cash pay here so i take the job……so me and barney get to drinking and what not nextthing i know im half naked in bed with barney and condoleeza a tape was made a hit went out and here i sit…..

Condoleeza Rice, Barney the Dinosaur and Chef Boyardee were engaged in a wild yet loving orgy, amid raw oysters, discarded flak vests and a spare helmet or two in Ames, Iowa. Porky’s III was playing on the background television for mood music while the incessant love-fest went on unabated. Although the three miscreants were safe in the Witness Protection Program, none of them knew what their future held. Condi gave herself away to the hitman when she scolded Barney by saying, “You fool! I said PIANIST!” — when clearly, the password all along, was PENIS.

Tension filled the air at the summit meeting. Condaleeza Rice, Barney the Dinosaur and Chef Boyardee had just had a very heated exchange and you could cut the air with a knife.

Ames, Iowa had been chose for the site of the meeting in deference to Barney, whose legions of young admirers had threatened to disrupt the summit if held elsewhere. Ames was currently the site of a preschool and kindergarten convention, and was swarming with rugrats, curtain crawlers and toddlers. They’d pelted Chef Boyardee with raw oysters, fish and octopus, knowing that he hated fresh seafood. They wasted their time and their sushi; the chef, just released from a witness protection program, had coincidentally armed himself with a flak vest and helmet.

Condaleeza glared at Barney, who held his hands over his mouth and giggled goofily. “Noooo, Condi, I didn’t say you were a pain in the a**, you fool! I said PIANIST! I said you were a pianist!”

“That better be what you said, And don’t call me a fool! I know you were in “Porky’s III”. If I leak that news to the preschool press, you’ll be as extinct as a singer and dancer as the rest of your family is! You’ll fall from that preschool pedestal like the Jurassic jerk you are!”

The Chef smirked delightedly behind his moustache. Everything was going just as he planned. If he could somehow keep the other two combatants at each other’s throats, his dream of filling preschool and school cafeterias with spaghetti and tomato paste would come true at last.

Meanwhile, Condaleeza glared at Barney, whose purple burned ever brighter under her withering gaze. And then, something happened that the Chef never expected. Barney rose from his seat, waddled over to Condaleeza, and brushed her cheek lightly with a kiss.

“I love you, Condi,” he said endearingly.

Condaleeza blushed, felt warm, thought it had been his heavy breathing upon her neck.

“Barney,” she sighed, almost swooning. “Let’s leave here. I don’t care about this anymore. Let the Chef fill the world with spaghetti, I don’t care.”

They left and weren’t seen again for two weeks. They were married two weeks after that.

Sorry I’m late, I just …

*reads details*

Back in 2-3 days!! Good Lord! That means I only have, like …

*checks watch*

… 49 seconds!! AAAH!! It can’t be done! No way, game over, man, game over!!

Unless …

*grabs handful of Pixy Stix*

… O’ Sweet Sucrose, Goddess of Hyper-Activity, Lend me thy Power!! AAAARRRWWWMMMPHH!

-Opening: A rundown Restaurant. 3 PM.-

The hissing sound of raw oysters hitting the grill broke Chef Boyardee from his daydream. He blinked at the sudden odor of frying shelled seafood.

“IOWA!! Are you frying oysters STILL IN THEIR SHELLS!”, he yelled at his apprentice, the eager but, let’s face it, highly inept James Iowa, from Ames, Iowa. Needless to say, James hated his parents.

“Sorry Chief Boyardee”, the stumbler mumbled.

“It’s Chef not … oh nevermind”, Boyardee shook his head, leaving the disaster that was his kitchen. He remembered hiring the kid, freshly graduated from culinery school. At least, he said it was culinery school. From the way he cooked, it could have just as easily been the Barney the Dinosaur show. Still, Boyardee thought, the kid had potential, and he was probably better here than trying to make it big as an extra in the eighteenth remake of ‘Porky’s III’.

He gazed at the empty tables in the dining space of his restaurant, ‘The Grizzled Pianist’. He cringed at the memory of the grand opening, when the sign-painter had obviously misunderstood him. It seemed that the words, ‘You fool! I said PIANIST!’ still echoed through the dining room. The Chef still didn’t comprehend how the painter made the mistake; the word ‘mountaineer’ sounds nothing like ‘pianist’. Although, he thought in retrospect, ‘The Grizzled Mountaineer’ would make a pretty kickass name for a sporting goods store.

He ran a hand through his hair, which was dumb, because he knocked off his large poofy chef hat. He bent to pick it up, but someone snatched it first.

“Alright, Boyardee. It’s the first Tuesday of the month. Where is she?”, asked the person holding his hat.

“I’ll tell you this month what I told you last month. Go to Hell.”, Chef Boyardee growled. Standing before him was none other than Condoleeza Rice.

“She’s the highest person on the Top Ten Most Wanted List. Now tell me, Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?”, Rice didn’t look pleased, but then again, did she ever?

“Have you checked from Berlin down to Belize?”, he smirked.

Condoleeza didn’t falter. “We can offer a place in the witness protection program. All you have to do is testify.”, she said.

“Am-scray.”, he replied, grabbing his hat back.

“Fine. We’ll continue to track your movements, monitor your phone calls, go through your garbage, interrogate your family and chase everyone away from your restaurant until you tell us.”, she seethed.

“You go right ahead. But first …”, Chef Boyardee paused to inhale a great deal of air before yelling, “… FOOD CRITIC!”

James leapt out from the kitchen, decked out in a flak vest and helmet. “DIE! DIE! DIE!”, he screamed, whirling around various cutlery.

Rice was unimpressed. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Boyardee.”, she sneered, emphazing the ‘mister’. As she started for the door, she bumped into an incoming customer. “Don’t eat here. There’s asbestos in … everything.”, Rice shouted.

The customer, a young woman, looked confused. “I … just need to use the restroom.”

“I don’t care, just don’t buy anything.”, Rice screeched, leaving the restaurant. All the way back to her helicopter, you could hear her yelling about ‘e. coli’ and ‘roaches’ and ‘substandard, poorly presented side-dishes’.

The young woman shook her head. “Is she ever going to give up?”, she asked, walking over to the coatroom. She pulled a long, red trenchoat and matching fedora hat from a shelf in the back.

“I doubt it. She was pretty peeved when you stole the White House.”

“Well, it’s not like anyone was using it …”, Carmen said, placing the hat smartly over her flowing locks.

“Riiiiiight.”, Boyardee said, “Where are we going now?”

“I was thinking about taking a romantic trip to Switzerland.”, she said, a little too innocently.

Boyardee groaned. “Switzerland? Where the Alps are? You’re not stealing the Alps.” He groaned again when all she did was smile. “Carmen, no. You’re not stealing the Alps.” She smiled wider and started to walk towards the back door, the only door that wasn’t watched 24-7. She wondered if Condi and her goons even knew there was another exit.

Chef Boyardee followed her out the door, trying in vain to dissuade the greatest thief ever, “I said no. No Alp stealing. In fact, no more landmark stealing of any kind. You know that Sphinx in our backyard? I want it gone. And the Eiffel Tower … you know, somebody’s going to notice that thing one day … Why can’t we just rob a bank … Switzerland has banks, Carmen … Lots of banks … Carmen? Carmen, are you even listening to me … “

A story