The looming form of Bo'd Zilla arrives at Dan's place, looking for the party. The Household defenses don't even put up a fight. Finding no party, 'Zilla mashes the house flat and turns in search of other prey.
A few quick strides bring her to Troll's place. Troll and Brad are standing on the balcony in front of Troll's apartment, holding a large pot between them.
'ZILLA rumbles up and bellows,
Brad says, "Th-this had b-better fucking work!"
As Zilla collects her breath for a last, apocalyptic strike, Troll pulls off the top of the pot and shouts, "WANT SOME APPLESAUCE?"
'Zilla freezes in shock.
The entire world holds its breath.
Troll and Brad exchange worried glances.
Suddenly a 37-gallon tear rolls down Bo'dZilla's scaly cheek.
The world breathes again.
'Zilla rapidly begins to shrink down to mortal size, sniffling.
Troll and brad dash down the stairs, lugging the pot of homemade applesauce over which they had SLAVED ALL NIGHT. They walk over to where Karen is bawling on the grass.
"You're so mean to me!" Karen cries.
Troll, looking at the columns of smoke rising over the city, says "Bummer, Baby!"
Brad says, "Here! Take the applesauce!"
Karen is untouched. "Applesauce! It's always the goddamned APPLESAUCE! I'll NEVER get away from that will I?"
Troll notices a small patch of green on Karen's neck. It's slowly spreading.
Troll says, "Uh, look, I promise I'll never ever use the A-word again, OK? All is forgiven. Let it be forgotten!"
Karen apparently didn't hear him. She says, with rising violence, "Fucking applesauce! I didn't even WANT the goddamned stuff, and now I HATE APPLESAUCE!"
The green begins to spread more rapidly. KarenZILLA starts to expand.
Brad says, "Oh, shit!"
KarenZILLA says, "And YOU! WHERE'S THE FUCKING PARTY? WHEN I COME UP HERE I EXPECT A PARTY!"
Just as it's beginning to look really grim for our heroes, a National Guard helicopter swoops in from the southern skies. It quickly lands nearby. Rob hops out and says, "Karen! Party's over! It's time to go home, Hon."
KaZILLA rapidly reduces back to mortal size and says, "But you NEVER let me have any fun!"
Rob is adamant. "Come on, time to go home."
Dejectedly, Karen allows herself to be led away, after a few bonecrushing hugs.
Together, Troll and Brad say, "Thanks, Rob."
Rob flashes them a thumbs-up as the chopper lifts off.
As the chopper vanishes into the smoke filled skies, Troll says, "Good thing she didn't try the applesauce." Brad nods silent agreement.
Exhausted, Troll and Brad stumble up the steps to Troll's place. Around them, the air is filled with smoke and the plaintive wailing of civil defense sirens.
Our heroes push their way inside. Troll plops down in the comfy chair. Brad, so tired he is swaying on his feet, eyes the innocent-looking couch, warily. After a while, he simply decides to collapse on the floor.
From the carpet, Brad says, "God, I'm glad that's over."
Troll says, "What's over? As far as we know, the slasher is still out there, looking for us."
Brad looks at him and says, "Boy, you really know how to ruin a guy's day."
Troll goes on, "We don't even know who the slasher is! We're practically helpless!"
Brad says, "Well, who COULD it be?"
There is a long pause as our heroes pretend to be furiously thinking.
Suddenly, Troll says, "Uh oh."
After a brief pause, Brad says, "What?"
Troll says, "Oh, nothing," and slowly extricates himself from the chair. He walks over to the table and picks up the phone. By some miracle, the phones still work. He starts dialing.
Curious, Brad winches himself up on one arm, and watches Troll.
Troll waits for a while, then says, "Hi guy, wassup?"
Brad's brow furrows in concentration.
Troll says, "Did you get that package I sent for you? Yeah, I knew you'd want it right away."
Irritated, Brad says, "Who the fuck are you talking to?"
Troll ignores him.
"So what are your plans for the summer, dude?" Troll asks the unknown person on the phone.
"Uh huh, yep. Oh, I'm sure you'll like it there."
With a profound effort, Brad hauls himself up to a sitting position, still closely watching Troll.
Troll says, "Did Mom call you, too?"
All the blood drains from Brad's face. Silently he mouths, "Holy shit!"
Troll goes on, "Uh, huh. No, I'm not sure I want to go, either."
Brad starts to pray.
Troll says, "Uh, listen, dude. The reason I was calling... um, you haven't by any chance, taken any contracts lately, have you?"
Brad holds his breath.
"Oh, no reason, really. Just curious."
For Brad, a subjective aeon passes.
"You haven't? You sure?"
Brad collapses again.
"No, no reason. See ya later!"
Troll hangs up, quickly. He says, "Just checking."
Brad screams, "DON'T DO THAT!"
Troll walks back and eases himself into the chair, avoiding the carnivorous couch.
Eventually, Brad hauls himself up, grabs about six books from Troll's shelves, and says, "I'm going to the can."
He steps into the bathroom, and closes the door.
Brad sits on the stool, suddenly worried. He is reassured when he hears sound of Troll moving around in the kitchen, cleaning up from the marathon applesauce-making session.