Ophunji regards Scambot as he sits captive in the underwater music lab, and prepares to fill his brain with more anti-Campland propaganda. Wrangthorn, galaxies away, looks upon Ophunji and Scambot, speaks some strange incantations, and sends them through the wall flying towards DaDunDa, tied together with a red velvet sash. Ophunji is troubled by this situation. He's tweaked no dials to send himself flying. He suspects that he is being manipulated, just as surely as he's been manipulating Scambot (who is also troubled to find himself suddenly flying and flapping and tied to Ophunji). Kootch is in his little bunk on the Quiet Children's yacht, trying to get some sleep. Not working: between his seasickness and his self-loathing, he keeps crying and/or throwing up. SCAMBOT, OPHUNJI and KOOTCH: The flucking madness of life Singing alone in the trees Dodging the hornets and bees Govin is happy to be flying and free. He remembers a melody that a critter once sang to him via telepathy. GOVIN: What can I do with this little car tune Offered to me by a helpful racoon? BARNO (looking frantically for some important paperwork he's misplaced): How can I find everything that I feel, oh To help the people help me help Ophunji kneel, oh BEDELIA (a Quiet Child, steering the QC yacht): Our cause is a flower blooming from a tiny seal MORE QUIET CHILDREN: And the world will see it grow They will know what they should know, oh BARNO: I musta put it away, I. musta put it away I musta locked it in the bank for another day MORE QUIET CHILDREN: Yes the world will see it grow and grow and, and... GOD (encouraging Scambot): What you are Is a part Of everything you're doin' You're a star We're the car Grab ahold and vroom SCAMBOT (to the voices in his head which he has not yet identified as those of God): Who you are? I'm a star? I'm a rag, I'm ruin OPHUNJI: I don't know Where we go- in' and I feel that I'm not at the wheel anymore KOOTCH (loathing himself in his bunk): All this jerkin' off I been doin' Has led us down the road to ruin (I'm sorry, Ian) The mediocracy boned and leeched me - woe! But there's a lesson if I let it teach me This isn't justice, it's true This is What Not To Do. Guitar! He tries to distract himself with an imaginary guitar solo, but fails as it turns into a brief, twisted ensemble statement. But every message In every song and film And book and sculpture Or speech or painting Aura, play or sermon Or series and skit Psalm and dance Zen garden or mosaic in space Has brought me to this place: A puking, crying face GOVIN (still flyin'): What can I do with this little car tune Offered to me by the helpful raccoon? GOD: Think it in D Reverently There's an idea that's appealing to Me GOVIN: What will we do when we get to the yacht? Is what they're needing a thing that I've got? GOD: You know your heart You know you're strong You know what's wrong Simultaneously: Ophunji and Scambot fly haphazardly; Govin smoothly cuts through the air currents and grins; Bedelia navigates through some rough waters, while Kootch gobbles Dramamine and sobs; Barno rifles frantically through filing cabinet drawers and swears; and God claps theeir hands and dances, delighted by all of the above as they watch the live stream. Meanwhile, Corporal Quaigo's men arm themselves for the upcoming battle with The Quiet Children. QUAIGO'S MEN: Deadly confrontation is fun to eat Dehumanization just can't be beat Self-determination's what we mistreat Ami is in the bunk above Kootch's, and can't get any sleep for his noisy self-loathing. AMI: Knock yer grousin' on the head, boy Knock it on the head Leave your nightmares in the bed, boy KOOTCH: I'm feeling the strain I'm a boy in pain AMI: Fear don't feel its soul Near the wolfpack pole, Sacred dancing clown. We can take him down! Break the nutshell crown! Sing aaaaaaoooooooeeeeeeee - She hands Kootch a copy of the Bhagavad Gita for inspiration. Take this! BARNO (coming across a vital-looking document in the media lab): What's THAT? OPHUNJI (startled by a bat, cutting him off in mid-air): A flucking BAT! GOD (enjoying the close call with the bat): Oh joy! KOOTCH (still awash in self-pity in his bunk): Poor boy. CORPORAL QUAIGO (on an aircraft carrier addressing his men): DEPLOY...Ten hut! QUAIGO'S MEN (suddenly hit by something from above): Wait, WHAT? SURVEILANCE SEAGULLS (soaring above Quaigo's men and bombing them, as they sing the originating location of the offending substance): Our butt! THE QUIET CHILDREN (heads touching in a circle on their yacht): Sing OM... WHITE-COATED TECHNICIANS (testing a sample of seawater, collected from where Ophunji first captured Scambot): Black foam? JIMMY GARRISON, HUGH HOPPER, AND JACO PASTORIUS (arriving back in paradise after a gig in a Mr. Pibb machine in Flagstaff): We're home. MS. LORING (shaking her head at the pile of detritus in Ophunji's office, and at the life she's arrived at - serving the whims of this dangerous, oafish nincompoop): Why me? WRANGTHORN (quivering with excitement, watching Ophunji and Scambot whoosh through the sky): Fly free. SCAMBOT (missing his old cat buddy): My Chee... ENTIRE CAST (responding to an unasked, but obvious question): Why not? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH In an alternate universe... There is a dim, unfurnished room with billowing white curtains. Outside, shifting colors undulate in the atmosphere. Blenda Ophunji, Boleous's late mother, walks into the room and sings. Her voice undulates in the atmosphere as well. BLENDA: "Later. Much later," they said. Those were pretty much the last words I heard, and I'm not sure who said them. That's when I saw the aliens. Rolling down the alley at me at a thousand miles an hour. "Trying too hard makes you a creep..." No! It was actually "Effort makes you a creepo." (I don't know who said that either...) Words stream out simultaneously from three unknown voices in various parts of the room: "These are nuts, not...vitamins..." "That's some slammin' perceptivity, Felix..." "Why is it so DARK in here? My name isn't Felix..." Blenda ignores them and continues. It was one year after the Summer of Love. My faith was shaken, and shaking more. All systems and all subjects had failed me. Spiritually, things were seesawing. Nothing about any of it was unique. On I went. Trying, trying. I felt weird. But something was happening, and I could tell it was OK, even with the aliens only a few inches away. That part was weird too. But I really finally could close my eyes, real tight and look way up hard into my cranium, feel it and do it for real, rise up off the ground and relax those shoulders and breathe deep and over the city you go. Meanwhile... Ophunji and Scambot come in for a rough landing on DaDunDa, both of them bouncing off of trees and things, sustaining various comedy injuries. Wrangthorn makes himself corporeal and appears before them, revealing himself as Ophunji's evil God/benefactor/puppeteer. He has to help them find the Quiet Children's underground media lab before the QC's yacht arrives. WRANGTHORN: Hey man Your evil God's here, now Thought it was time to face-to-face it, now And sing it like it's a montage from an '80s teen flick: Hey man Your time to shine is now Don't need no evil God to show you how Aaaaaahhhhh.... Hey Oaf! Y'think your life is odd... OPHUNJI: I'd rather you not call me that, my God... WRANGTHORN: Aw, toughen up You need thick skin to take this job on, buddy WRANGTHORN and OPHUNJI: Now we'll find The QC mine OPHUNJI: Tell me one thing Was I ever in the running? Or was I just a fun thing? A puppet for your whim? Way I was with him? WRANGTHORN: Man, you're super tiresome But now I'll let you spy something Behind the door...

When Ophunji was a child, Wrangthorn inhabited the body of his friend Sam. Ophunji and Sam would stay up late on Fridays watching weird TV shows and drinking peppermint schnapps, then go running around at a park designed by Boleous's councilwoman mom, Blenda, and getting in high-quality kid-style trouble. WRANGTHORN: You and me fall down on our face flat Jump and run straight to Mahogany Square Ride a jet-pack, tell every geek to get back, Sic a man on a space rat, we are both there Pete's father could lick Steve's father Here's a place made for hiding away Steve's father could lick Keith's father Life took, I shook a lot on that day There's a feather, twirling above the heather, Writing it bound in leather, column B: loss You enrage me, lock the doors and cage me, Finally disengage me, meet the new boss We bother to live, we bother To a point when we suddenly cain't Be bothered, we can't be bothered Get gone son, get you up and speak sane Set the pound free, let the light surround thee Elevate the sound, cerebration, come on Roll the stone, see, lib'rallly lackin' lonely, Man you gotta pay that phone fee all day long All day, All day long Roots twisting There's Gene Simmons, gobbling up the women. Spawn illegitimate children all day long There's Tommy Newsom, happy to have a twosome, How do I get these hoodlums outta this song? You and me, we You and me... You and me fall down on our face flat Di'n't your ma make that Mahogany Square? Everything was a drunken kinda king-buzz Musketeers musketing to who-knows-where All day, All day long Roots twisting All the birds of a feather Birds that hang together Birds that dance the weather All day long Words from the feather Written in the leather Sittin' in column A

Ophunji is flooded with emotion, now that he's learned that Wrangthorn was actually his best childhood buddy, who he hasn't seen in forever. OPHUNJI: How will we know When it's all gonna blow Brother? All that's rare is what We are, we are Brother Blue brother It's better to know When a right's bein' wronged When the sheep and gnu, crying, call: Haiunitaa! Ophunji feels conflicted about how he's mistreated Scambot, and appears to be considering offering him his freedom. All is fair in war Ian, Ian Brother I know you'll never hold my hand Brother True brother It's better to go Taking flight, being born With a peekaboo light above And it's better to know When a right's being wronged When you're dealing in lying love How to do it all? And it's better to know When a right's being wronged When you're dealing with lying love Haiunitaa! How will you get on? How to do it all?

However tender he may be feeling, Ophunji apparently still can't resist poking some fun at Wrangthorn. Sam was a friend, but he was also a twerp, one who had a tragically weird crush on Ophunji's mom. Ophunji taunts Wrangthorn that he could have inhabited anyone - why settle for becoming a dingbat like Sam? Wrangthorn responds angrily. WRANGTHORN: Get this straight I am great And I don't make mistakes I'm all at once I ain't no dunce And I do what it takes You awful human, Oaf I might be Sam or Pam or Saul I sang goodbye hello For I became him. I was Paul. As Ophunji processes that information, Scambot, still under Ophunji's spell, staggers robotically around the island, looking for something. Scambot's adrenaline level jolts suddenly from zero to almost twenty, as he suddenly recognizes familiar (and, to him, nauseating) banjo music coming from under a pile of rocks. In a murderous frenzy, he. digs and uncovers an air vent leading down under the island. The music is the opening theme to the AM radio talk show he despises more than any other, Sittin' with Campland Standish. Lady: I like to listen to Campland Standish. Guy: I like to listen to Campland Standish. Announcer: From the shores of Glan Junction we bring you...Sittin' With Campland Standish! Campland: Hello, hello...thank you Jim for that always dependable introduction. It's a Monday... Just below Scambot, in the QC media center, Barno is running a recording of one of his old broadcasts, testing the gear in the control room. Scambot examines the ground for signs of an entrance. His attention is yanked seaward by the sound of a bell. The Quiet Children's yacht is approaching the island. Govin, who's been having too much fun flying to land on deck, circles above the yacht as it nears the shore. Non-surveillance seabirds join Govin in a breathtaking air dance. Then, suddenly... OPHUNJI and WRANGTHORN (jumping out in front of the arrivers and doing an unseemly Festrunk Brothers-esque dance): Cancel your plans You're not alone Everything that you had hoped to do Is now in danger, you're in flux We both heard your boat, it's creaking You're unafraid, but you're running out of luck THE QUIET CHILDREN (standing on deck in a battle formation): Ringing the chimes It's time For a holiday song Everything that you now hope to do Is unrealistic You should duck We can hear your talk, it's leaking You're unafraid, but you're running out of luck You suck The Quiet Children leap from the boat onto the island and begin to wrestle with Ophunji and Wrangthorn, as Campland Standish banjo music continues seeping up from the ground.

Corporal Quaigo and his men arrive on the scene, park their aircraft. carrier, and start aimlessly running everywhere. The Surveillance Seagulls swoop and relieve themselves all over them, causing a good 20 seconds of havoc. Just out of gull range, Govin watches it all with concerned interest as he hovers a foot off the ground. He considers all the ways that he could demonstrate the absurdity of their fighting, and the illusory nature of life itself, in a manner that will make all the participants in the mayhem instantly recognize and reject their folly. He figures it out. Inspired by the cartoon Beany and Cecil, which Govin has long felt contains some elemental and easily assimilable truth about existence, he flies through the sky, leaving a trail of vivid color behind him. An image begins to take shape and finally congeals into an enormous, looping animated sequence: a bespectacled man having his face fervently licked by a sea serpent hand puppet, leaving his glasses askew. Scambot, Ophunji, Wrangthorn, Kootch, The Quiet Children, Ami, Quaigo, the soldiers, and the seagulls all see this, and the powerful incongruity of it compels them to drop all their antagonistic impulses. A sudden, euphoric celebration erupts. Scambot is grateful that he's been cured of his urge to kill Campland Standish. How pointless would that have been? And why do anything that Ophunji wants him to do?

With dawn approaching, the Quiet Children break out a piano from the boat, and the partying settles down to a mellow burble. THE QUIET CHILDREN: Party Get down Feeble detractor fall in a sick blue ball, is all Party Get down Ophunji gets wistful, remembering his mom. OPHUNJI: Blenda, Orange were the walls In our springtime home Dearest mother mine Dearest one of all Red were the shoes Lined in the hall Forty in all Hearing Ophunji sing about Blenda, something begins to shift inside Scambot. Long hidden memories begin to fade back into focus. He recalls a childhood trauma: his own mother tipsy, pretending to be a bull, with pretzels sticking out of her nose. Not yet able to view his mom as a person with as much right to a weird good time as anyone, he felt frightened and weirdly betrayed. SCAMBOT: Silly kid Sorry, mom Kootch, a little tired but happy, sees Ami sitting by a campfire, and smiles - then his stomach drops. Only a short time ago, on the boat, she saw him at his worst. His last puff of euphoria dissipates. His head goes to the dark place. KOOTCH: Aaaaaaaahhhh aaaggh aaaggghhhh aaaaahhhhhhh Ami and the Quiet Children come to Kootch and attempt to comfort the poor lad. From the great beyond or somewhere like it, Blenda sings back to her son. BLENDA: Boleous, What could I have done To leave my boy kind Leave him safe and sound Heal his troubled mind Lead him to church? Force him to school? Follow some rule? THE QUIET CHILDREN (accompanying FlightRisk, as he tells of how his mom made him go to church when he wanted to watch cartoons): Party Get down Be a bit sad and bawl 'cause the Quick Draw McGraw show's on Party Get down

In a living room, somewhere, a guy named Buzz has just arrived at his friend's house party. BUZZ: Do y'got some, c'mon Yeah, we brought some along Rock the guac, turn on the Trinitron We're having tacos, c'mon We're very hot for some fun Look, now Scambot's on Buzz looks at the TV screen and sees the Scambot credit sequence: "SCAMBOT - brought to you by GAS." The show begins and Buzz recognizes Kootch, moaning miserably on the beach, as someone he'd threatened during a dark chapter of his life. Hey, I know that one I was snide to him, son Took his pride, had a gun Now I cry, how could I done All the crimes I have run It's that God The majority of God is good One part is not He hates me and made me hate And leaves me standing out Torn and crumblin' They're not wrong, somehow Feeling it down in your corns You could be doing anything But you can't be doing much worse than that Worse than that Much worse than that Buzz watches a scene of an alternate reality, wherein Scambot is fully aware of his participation in the show, and is being hounded by reporters on the Emmy Awards red carpet. REPORTERS: What are you wearing? Who are you wearing? SCAMBOT (internally): Where in hell did I go? There's a montage of Scambot TV appearances: clips from late-night talk shows, "emotional" interviews with hosts who try to elicit tears, and game show cameos. There's a look in his eye that suggests he's not entirely sure what he's doing in all of these places. The show cuts back to the red carpet: REPORTERS: Who are you wearing? Who are you wearing? Who are you wearing? Who are you wearing? It's the Scambot show! The show ends. Buzz and friends engage in a late-night guacamole-fueled philosophical discussion. PARTIERS: Create Hell Debate Hell We hate Hell

Wrangthorn, his evil impulses now mollified by Govin, gets nostalgic about the good times with his old friends, the rest of God. He makes a pitch for joining forces once again. WRANGTHORN: Well Well Well, seeing as how we're good Gods And being no cow 'o gold We'll take it back down to atoms And make it like days of old It takes some time to unlock A rock of hate this hard We've made it and I swear it I'll embrace the stars But, you can't bake bread with gunpowder And, you can't buy Cheech from Chong I say these things and somehow They do not serve me wrong It takes some soul to unwind The mess that's been put up What's solved by being unkind Can take a ride in a Dixie cup Oh, won't you slide in my easy car You and I can race the stars Race the stars Well The rest of God aren't having it. They don't trust Wrangthorn any further than they can throw him (which is probably pretty far). Wrangthorn is defiant. Your eyes aim doubt upon me Some words you've heard before You don't and won't condone me It's best I find the door But I know for sure You can fret and kick the tar People I will race the stars Come on Come on Oh come on

Wrangthorn is angry at being rebuffed by God. Reflexively he falls back into his worst instincts, and starts messing with Ophunji all over again, threatening him with violence. Ophunji, running for safety, finds a nice looking leather suitcase hiding in some shrubs. Opening it, he sees a familiar looking cache of wires and arcane machinery, very much like the stuff he's been using to control Scambot. Ophunji realizes that this must be the very batch of gadgetry that Wrangthorn has been using to control him. He now reverses the wiring and finds that he can control Wrangthorn. He begins to do so, and it's not good.

Scambot is horrified by what he sees going on with Ophunji and Wrangthorn. God appears to Scambot and assures him that they'll take care of it soon. Scambot is doubtful. He asks God why they've allowed Ophunji to control him all these years, and why they haven't done more to bring peace and justice to Earth. God silently considers the question. Ami, who's been watching all the preceding activity with mounting anger, stands next to Scambot and proclaims solidarity. Scambot thinks he has seen her before, but his memory has been so compromised by Ophunji that he isn't certain. Ophunji and Wrangthorn...the sudden appearance of God...all the jumbled, fragmented memories - it's too much for Scambot to handle. He vents his confusion and frrustration. SCAMBOT: Swarm horde of bees Reflecting in the trees Wild animals and others Faith hold me tight Y'already seeing What will come of me Why should we crawl and shudder You make this right God mulls this over, while Ami and the Children trundle Scambot down to their media lab. Kootch follows behind, moved by seeing Scambot and Ami take on God. AMI: You rather sin, Ian, or turn your stone? You rather been beat and burned alone? I'd rather plainspeak on sacred ground I'd rather roll SCAMBOT: Music is weird Electric souvenirs I'm moving fingers for you I hate words and sight AMI: You gather grain, Ian, or burn your corn? You gotta spray heat and spurn and scorn? I'd rather plainspeak on sacred ground I'd rather roll KOOTCH: No one leads a charmed life Must it be a harmed life? I assumed that shared love Would be taken care of Scambot is disoriented. A memory fragment lodges in his brain, a flash of a forgotten time. He's onstage with an orchestra behind him. I can hear you thinking: I will never get through this part... Why is it so so hard to melt my guitar Into the violin... On this sort of a sensitive song I must not drown out thee string section Drowning them out would be wrong Their daggers are searing into my back They think I am not fit to be here It's clear that they think I'm a hack SCAMBOT (singing to a hallucination of a tiny red bug hovering neear his arm): Obscenities And share this if you please, Tom, With your pa and mother Take this and fight Y'already seeing What will come of me Why should we crawl and shudder You make this right AMI: You rather sin, Ian, or turn your stone? You rather been beat an' burned alone? I'd rather plainspeak on sacred ground I'd rather roll, freak, and make a sound Echo up treble down Echo up treble down You can do this, Jack

Sitting together in the green. room of the QC media center, Ami reveals all to Scambot about their history together. AMI: Darn me Terror play It's been a Dark dream Scared us away Mmmmmm........ We got in touch with something It eyes us up, stares us down Looming Looking Not touching We hoped We clanged We tried to stay Enthusiastic But now We're ruled By old-time pain Time to run past it Mmmmmm Copenhagen flames They fried us up, shared us 'round In a train, in a train A snowy train Bringin' it, tearing up. the track We'll wine and dine (in that order) Then with a big tape recorder We'll cast our ears and eyes over the borders And every cranny of This interesting thing we've Constructed Ami's calmness is balm to Scambot's soul.

Scambot meets Mike Barno and is forced to conclude that, for all his hatred of the Campland character, Barno himself is not a bad guy. They are tasked with composing a propaganda song that will help sway public opinion against Ophunji and all other tyrants, despots and the like. They knock one together, called "Scores Of People"; the QC record it and post it online. But it's not entirely necessary, as it happens. Public opinion has been against Ophunji for decades. Everyone knows he's a schmuck. People enjoy the song anyway. Kootch sees that the best course of action for him is to get away on his own and into a new life. He finds an ad online for a rodeo in a nearby town and decides to see if they can make use of an additional clown; the QC give him a spare rowboat, and he makes his way across the sea. Wrangthorn has managed to struggle his way over to the suitcase, has reversed the wiring again, and is going to town on Ophunji. God are somewhat humbled by the dressing down Scambot gave them. The TV show has been a means of blowing off steam, but clearly not the best use of their time. They take a hard look at what's happening on the planet. This is currently represented by the absurd and violent activities of Ophunji and Wrangthorn. God tires of both of them and turns them into tiny red gnats. Then God decides to save mankind.

Scambot and Barno's propaganda song turns out to be an even bigger hit for The Quiet Children than "Cold Hands." THE QUIET CHILDREN: When my actions are the reason for the death of scores of people That's the moment I should question all that I believe For we are children We are learning We are learning what we're here for For the many Grieving people Who shouldn't need to grieve No summer rain No autumn wine What a shame Draw the line Many dead Ahead of time And criminals fighting crime Raise another To honor your sister, brother This flame to light the freedom that will chime Through the sky When my living is the reason for the death of scores of people That's the moment I must look at all that I have done I come humbled I come hungry I come yearning for a clear heart Not to murder Not to muzzle And not to overrun (Liberty beams) We get so upset (You go free) At thoughtlessness (You go free) We're thoughtless ourselves so often Raise another To honor your sister, brother Some time goes by. It's the calm after the storm. Scambot sits quietly at home. He stills his thoughts. He breathes and breathes.

Scambot is sitting on his porch swing with Ami, sharing a Bubble-Up. Ophunji-gnat flies by. Now that he has a gnat brain, he doesn't remember much of anything that's happened in the past - only a few popular songs, but he doesn't know all the lyrics anymore. He makes up words to fill in the gaps. OPHUNJI-GNAT: Cold hands Cold hands I knew a girl with cold hands She was rich She made hay in the Bahamas Five weeks stoned on a throne of chrome Bestiality, phone home, Symptoms, manners, gas leak, Phone home, symptoms, manners, gas leak Cold hands Cold hands Cold hands I knew a girl with gold hands She was rich Six years with the llamas Barrage, burrowwn* into your glasses Shards went flyin' Bestiality, phone home, Symptoms, manners, gas leak, Phone home, symptoms, manners, gas leak Ophunji-gnat flies away. Scambot and Ami swing slowly on the porch as the sun goes down. *not a real word, a gnat-word

It's been a few months, and things are very different now. God has created portals, scattered throughout Earth, which lead to other dimensions - purer, more beautiful. dimensions. Anyone can visit these places, and return safely home (if they choose to). The Quiet Children play this song on a stage in front of one of the portals, while Campland does an interpretative dance. Many people stand in line, waiting to pass through the portal. Quaigo and his men are there, and Buzz, and Ms. Loring too. We can see Blenda inside the portal, along with Chee and Tom. Ophunji-gnat and Wrangthorn-gnat fly through the portal - they don't need to wait in line. THE QUIET CHILDREN: Hail gentle woman Hail gentle man Here is some magic It's at your command You may proceed Everyone's welcome Come in, hang your hat Shoving is bullshit We're better than that Making your entrance Uncategorized Everyone equal In everyone's eyes Walk on the left side Walk on the right Walk on the ceiling Wherever you like Have no misgivings Welcome aboard You are not wanting You are adored Rings on your fingers Bells in your mind Go where you want to You'll love what you'll find God's satisfied, if a bit tired. They. could use a break. Now that these portals are everywhere, it feels like people can pretty much handle things from here. The Quiet Children, on behalf of all humanity, sing to God that if they need some time to themselves, that's okay. THE QUIET CHILDREN: Total soul rolling It's time that you do We, aching, grateful God I thank you You may proceed. Mankind sets God free.