I don't own anything. No GI Joe characters or sugary filled goodness. You know it was just a matter of time before Cobra got in on the recent bankruptcy in the news.
The Art Of The Deal
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Destro hissed to Cobra Commander. Both were in an alley wearing hats and trench coats to hide their identities.
"Probably not but that has never stopped us before," Cobra Commander remarked. "Just let me do the talking."
"You? May I remind you that I am the arms dealer?" Destro hissed. "I do sales like this every day! At least I did before my business was closed down by Interpol."
"Well we're not selling weapons now are we? If it was something simple like that I would let you handle it!" Cobra Commander hissed back.
"I'm the one with the experience in sales!" Destro said.
"Oh please! Who do you think convinced you to work for me? The Easter Bunny?" Cobra Commander hissed. "Just let me handle this. You might learn something about the art of the deal."
"You'd better not blow this sale Cobra Commander," Destro gritted his teeth.
"I won't," Cobra Commander waved. He held a briefcase in one hand. "This is going to be a piece of cake. Literally."
"Just don't mess this up," Destro warned him.
"I won't!" Cobra Commander snapped. "I know what I am doing!"
"I just don't want this to be a repeat of Cairo in 87," Destro reminded him.
"Again, that was an honest mistake," Cobra Commander sighed. "I had no idea there was a hole in the basket and that snake was venomous."
"That was Mozambique 1985," Destro corrected. "I'm talking about Cairo in 1987. You know? When you lost your temper and it ended up in a firefight with the Egyptian Army?"
"Oh right," Cobra Commander remembered. "Well I was kind of drunk that day."
"Have you actually been sober a day since 1987?" Destro gave him a look.
"Har de har, har," Cobra Commander said sarcastically. "Just have my back okay?"
"I always have your back," Destro reminded him.
"Oh really? Now whose memory is faulty?" Cobra Commander turned on him. "Have you forgotten Mongolia 1993?"
"No, that's because you ran out on me!" Destro snapped. "Remember? You were supposed to air lift me in case the Joes over ran the base. Which they did. But surprise! You didn't!"
"Oh yeah…" Cobra Commander remembered. "I said I was sorry about that."
"Not only did I barely escape the Joes with my life I had to spend the next two weeks trekking across half of Asia hiding in a Yak caravan!" Destro snapped. "You know what it's like to smell yaks for two weeks nonstop?"
"Well it couldn't have been any worse than spending a day with the Dreadnoks," Cobra Commander huffed.
"Almost. The yaks were more hygienic in their bodily waste," Destro remarked. "But still…"
"Quiet, someone is coming," Cobra Commander hissed. "Just watch my back."
"Just don't screw this up!" Destro hissed. Cobra Commander shushed him.
A shadowy figure hovered near the edge of the alley. "Are you the guy?" A deep raspy voice hissed.
"Yeah I'm the guy. You the guy?" Cobra Commander asked.
"I'm the guy if you're the guy," The figure grumbled back.
"If you got the cash, I'm your guy," Cobra Commander hissed.
"If you got the goods, I'm your guy," The figure hissed back.
"I might be the guy if you're the guy," Cobra Commander said.
"I might be the guy if you are the guy," The figure said back.
"Fine. We've all established that everyone in this alley is male," Destro rolled his eyes. "Can we get on with it?"
"Who's this clown?" The man said.
"He's my guy," Cobra Commander said. "Are you the guy?"
"Oh let's not start all that again!" Destro said. "Just get the money and let's go!"
"Hold it," A large heavyset man with a long red beard and ponytail emerged. He had on a pair of black sweatpants that barely fit his frame and a black jacket. "I want to see if you got the goods before I give you the cash." He was carrying a brief case.
"Well I want to see if you got the cash before I give you the goods," Cobra Commander held open the briefcase.
"Hey if Big Bob says he's got the cash, he's got the cash," The man frowned.
"Who's Big Bob?" Cobra Commander asked.
"I'm Big Bob!" The man pointed to himself.
"Oh right," Cobra Commander said. "Well our names aren't important. What's important is that you have our money."
"Ten G's right here," Big Bob opened the case and showed them the money. "Now you got the stuff?"
"Oh we have the stuff right here," Cobra Commander opened his case and held it out. "Here's the gold."
"I wanna inspect the goods," Big Bob said.
"What do you think this is? A used car lot?" Cobra Commander snapped. "Look it is what it is. You want it or not?"
"I want it if this is the real deal!" Big Bob snapped.
"Don't get any more real than this my friend," Cobra Commander purred. "If you don't want it I can always…"
"No wait…I just want to see one. Just to make sure," Big Bob said.
"As you wish," Cobra Commander took something out of the briefcase. "One Twinkie. One of thirty as promised."
"Why does this say 'Hustess'?" Big Bob asked as he took the pastry from him.
"Uh must be a typo," Cobra Commander coughed. "You know one of those irregular batches. I told you this on the e-mail."
"It looks pretty good," Big Bob frowned. "I dunno…"
"Oh come on! It's a long cupcake with frosting on the inside instead of the outside!" Cobra Commander snapped. "What more proof do you need?"
"I need a taste," Big Bob said.
"You taste when you pay," Cobra Commander took the Twinkie back. "Now I showed you the merchandise. It's the real deal. Give me the cash and you can taste all you want!"
"I just want to see if it's right that's all," Big Bob said. "Just give it a little test that's all."
"You can't test drive a Twinkie," Cobra Commander snapped. "Do you get to sample Twinkies in a store? No! Unless it's free sample day but even then come on! Who needs to verify a Twinkie? What are you the Twinkie Police?"
"No, I just…" Big Bob fidgeted.
"What you a Twinkie Narc? Is that what you are?" Cobra Commander pointed at his chest. "You wearing a wire Narc? You got the Pastry Cops listing in?"
"Hey, hey! I ain't no squealer," Big Bob protested. "I'm just being careful that's all. Here's your money." He gave Destro his briefcase.
"And here are your Twinkies," Cobra Commander handed him his case. "Now that our business has transacted. Have a good day." He made a motion and Destro began to follow him.
They had barely gone a few feet when Cobra Commander heard a wrapper being unwrapped. "Oh no…" He grumbled to himself.
"BLEACH! THIS CRAP AIN'T NO TWINKIE!" Big Bob snapped as he spat out the pastry.
"You just couldn't wait five minutes could you, you fat slob?" Cobra Commander said as he turned around. "Just had to fill your gullet as fast as you can couldn't you?"
"Yeah and I'm gonna fill you full of lead!" The overweight man pulled out a gun.
"How about a light meal? With actual light!" Cobra Commander pulled out his laser pistol.
"I knew it. This is going to be like Cairo in 87," Destro groaned as he pulled out his blaster.
"Get the cash out of here Destro! I'll cover you!" Cobra Commander stared to fire his blaster.
"GIVE ME BACK MY MONEY OR REAL TWINKIES!" Big Bob started firing back.
"I knew this was a bad idea!" Destro shouted.
"Just shut up and run!" Cobra Commander screamed.
"Art of the deal my ass!" Destro snapped. "Art of screwing up that's what it was!"
"JUST SHUT UP AND RUN!" Cobra Commander shouted.
"GIVE ME THE REAL TWINKIES OR DIE!" Big Bob shouted as he chased them.
Twenty five minutes later…
"Well that was nearly a disaster," Destro grumbled. He had the briefcase from Big Bob in his hands.
"Well it wasn't like Cairo in 1987," Cobra Commander protested as the Cobras returned to their ship on the docks.
"Only because the army wasn't involved!" Destro snapped.
"Well that guy was as big as an army," Cobra Commander said as they boarded the ship.
"Which reminds me. How could you miss?" Destro shouted. "All you had to do was shoot the man!"
"It's hard to hit a fast moving target," Cobra Commander said.
"Fast moving? He was over three hundred pounds and as wide as a barn!" Destro said.
"Well that made it easier to out run him now didn't it?" Cobra Commander snapped. "That's one of the benefits of this business. Even if they do figure it out, we can always get out fast."
"Unless one of them has a Segway! Like he had!" Destro snapped.
"Oh please it took him three minutes just to get on the thing," Cobra Commander waved. "And even then he only went faster when he went downhill. Good thing his brakes didn't work otherwise we would be out ten thousand dollars."
"Yes well next time we may not be so fortunate," Destro gave him a look.
"Fine! I'll have a word with Mindbender," Cobra Commander waved. "You put the money in the safe."
"To think I was once the owner of one of the most successful and powerful companies in the world," Destro grumbled. "Now I've been reduced to selling counterfeit Twinkies. God I hate my life!"
"The rest of us aren't that crazy about your life either!" Cobra Commander snapped as Destro left. He then went off to find Mindbender.
"Mindbender!" Cobra Commander stormed down into the galley. "You need to change your recipe! Didn't work!"
"But I spent all day making these!" Dr. Mindbender protested. He had a white apron on and a chef's hat. He had flour on his hands and part of his face. Several homemade Twinkies were on a table. "And I've got another batch in the oven!"
"Fine. You can still use those but you need to tweak the next batch," Cobra Commander snapped.
"It would be easier if you actually went out and stole some of the actual ingredients in Twinkies," Mindbender snapped. "Eggs, flour…Just saying!"
"Synthoid flour is still technically flour only with fewer calories and pigeon eggs work fine in a pinch," Cobra Commander waved. "It was bad luck we ran into a Twinkie lover with some taste buds."
"Well that is not my fault," Mindbender huffed.
"Just do it. And while you're at it fix the typo on the wrapper!" Cobra Commander snapped.
"Again not my fault!" Mindbender snapped. "The Twins are in charge of the wrapping! I'm just the chemist! I only make the product! You sell it!"
"You're the baker," Cobra Commander told him.
"Still the only one of us who knows how to cook!" Mindbender snapped.
"And that is the only reason I don't shoot you," Cobra Commander snapped. "Wait a minute; doesn't the Baroness know how to cook?"
"Oh yes. By all means ask the Baroness to bake something," Mindbender said sarcastically. "That will go well!"
"Oh right. That's not an option," Cobra Commander scratched his neck. "I remember the time Major Bludd suggested that she spend some time in the kitchen. He was in the hospital for months."
"The first of many hospital stays for various reasons," Mindbender nodded. "Maybe she'd do it if we wanted to poison someone?"
"Assassinating someone with Twinkies. That's not a bad idea," Cobra Commander thought. "I'd have to remember that one. Just change the formula from whatever you are doing now."
"I guess I could leave out the hair gel," Mindbender shrugged. "Not like either of us uses it much."
"Hair gel?" Cobra Commander asked.
"Well the real Twinkies have ingredients found in hair gel," Mindbender said. "I figure why not take it one step further?"
"I see. That might be a good start," Cobra Commander groaned. "I'm going back upstairs and eat something healthier! Like a Ding Dong!"
"You don't want to know what I put in the Ding Dongs," Mindbender warned him.
"Right. Thanks for the warning," Cobra Commander said sarcastically. "Keep baking! Maybe we'll have better luck in the next city!" He went upstairs.
Mindbender sighed and went back to baking. "I had to go to school and learn chemistry! I should have listened to my mother and become a goat herder like she wanted! I wouldn't have to deal with half the crap I do here!"
"Speaking of which," He tasted one of the Twinkies. "Hmm, I don't know. I think the hair gel gives it more chew. Should get rid of the nitroglycerin though…"