Written by The Almighty Itdoesntmatter, for narration on the DaveTheUseless online television program.
Do you remember inspector gadget? I initially acquired the tape when my boss, John Isidore, gave it to me by accident. I’m actually in the mental ward right now, eating m&m prescripts in a plastic cup, feelin’ fine and fine, and fine. My legal name is Dick. Dick tracy. I have no relation to the cartoon character, that’s just my name. I had a visitor on Tuesday, a man I met on the internet years ago, but never saw his face. He was my best friend though. He delivered “a cake” on wednesday and by that I mean an inspector gadget vhs, coaxial cables and vcr player inside a large, delicious, birthday cake themed like “the gadget.” Inspector gadget. My favorite show. By Thursday I had “tipped” the warden with some extra lunchables snack packs and got the tv set up in the deluxe padded cell. I regularly dress as a clown, though I’ve never been paid for it. I just enjoy the extra shoe length and the ability to wear a mask in public. No one needs to know how sad I truly am. The smile’s painted on. Now I’m not crazy. They put me in here because I had invented a prototype for the first robot-human AI that could play Parcheesy, and google adsense broke my legs for refusing to share the plans. It’s just…have you ever been kicked in the head? God kicked me in the head. And that’s why I’m such a fan of “the gadget.” I’m not crazy. I’m in my living room right now. The world is my living room, and you’re an actor on the front stage. Perform for me, clown, monkey, dance-clown monkey. Dance clown. Monkey. I checked to ensure the nurse was sleeping, and I put the tape on and pushed play. The murse, a male nurse, came in and watched it with me. The episode starts as normal, with the usual inspector gadget theme. But then…things got a little weird. Now I know what you’re thinking: Inspector gadget is a fun show about a robot p.i. and his various adventures stopping the evil “dr. claw” but little do you know exactly WHO doctor claw is and WHY he wants inspector “gadget” dead. I sure don’t. “I don’t think you should go out today inspector gadget, it’s going to rain.” It was his adopted daughter, penny. “Keep your ‘two cents’ to yourself penny, or I’ll be trading your five cents for a quarter, and later you’ll be “”loose change between couch cushions, currency.” What was he talking about. “GO GO GADGET UMBRELLA!” He yelled. Indeed, inspector gadget was a modern cyborg. And this is what cyborgs do. An umbrella shot out of his head and he screamed in pain as it hit the side of the drywall and stabbed the family dog, brain. “I guess that’s why they call it brain surgery!” Inspector gadget laughed to himself, while penny cried because inspector gadget had injured her dog. Brain was dead. Inspector gadget had killed a dog. Police chief quimby was on the line and gadget, a p.i. on the beat, had a crime to solve. “We need your help, Gadget! Dr. Claw has taken an entire enclave of Guatamalan Soccer immigrants hostage-“ “I’M GOING TO MCDONALD’S!” Gadget tipped his hat and dove out the window. He landed on top of a parked car and strolled off, looking a little odd. Indeed, inspector gadget was going to mcdonald’s. It was a little weird because it seemed like an odd promotional tie-in. You even see the 1999 kids’ toys featuring the highly stylized drawn face of Matthew Broderick, who played the eponymous p.i. “I can use either restroom because I have neither a penis nor a vagina!” The employees gawked in horror as inspector gadget strolled into the women’s restroom. “I bet dr. claw’s in here.” He said to himself, lifting up a token Mcdonald’s tray and carrying it casually into the lady’s room. Inspector Gadget’s left ear was now a telephone, and he was listening intently in the women’s restroom. “So that’s where doctor claw’s been hiding.” “Go go gadget douche bag and nozzle kit!” You just see a drawing of a woman screaming and running out of the restroom, with bloodshot eyes. The scene just cut to inspector gadget rollerskating out of the bathroom. Where did he get the rollerskates from. The manager looked really upset. “What were you doing in there.” “Go go gadget alibi!” He said. But nothing happened. Fifteen seconds passed, and the manager just stood there, dialing the police. Eventually they arrived, but gadget had produced some donuts from god-knows-where and left them sitting on the mcdonald’s counter. “And now to make a quick get away, exit stage right.” Inspector gadget snuck out the back exit while the employees cried and the police officers began dining on countless delicious donuts. Cherry sprinkles, hot chocolate frosted fudge and even boston crème pie tortecuinno. Inspector gadget looked a little disheveled, like he was malfunctioning. One of his eyes was missing and a plunger was sticking out of his head. “From now on you will refer to me as my gender neutral pronouns, Gadget or Gadgmena.. Gadgmena or GADMGEMNA!” He screamed, his left eye spinning like a top and the right one…the right one was missing a pupil. Inspector gadget was malfunctioning. He was still holding the mcdonald’s tray when he entered the hospital. “Dr. Claw is planning to abduct the babies!” He screamed to the woman behind the counter. He was still carrying the douche device, riding rollerskates and the plunger was sticking out of his head. “We’ll need a distraction if we’re to get into the mattress ward.” Inspector gadget sat down and began reading TIME magazine. “GO GO GADGET MARIACHI BAND!” What happened next sent a shiver down my spine. His chest cavity opened and three Hispanic midgets holding instruments fell out, gasping painfully for air. They reached for their maracas as several men in hospital coats came in and carried them off to intensive care. They put inspector gadget in the mental ward. They gave him a hot fudge sundae and Doctor Goffman several pills to control his psychotic episodes, but being that he was made of mainly wires and mechanical parts, the medicine just fell straight through him and out the other side of his throat/neck piece. That was when Dr. Claw showed up on the tv in the ward. “You’ll never escape, gadget. I have finally caught you, hehehehe.” Inspector gadget took off his shoe and threw it at the tv. “Go go gadget shoe!” he said. And he threw it at the TV. Inspector gadget dove out the window and launched his mechanical head on a spring 300 feet across the hospital. It was particularly disturbing because it got tangled in things like powerlines and various ferns growing outside the hospital, eventually twisting back, and the face and eye lips weren’t moving. “Babies!” The mouth and eyes were frozen and the babies in the maternity screamed as inspector gadget’s head floated around the room. [I had had enough. I was getting out of this mental ward. Crazy dave! Ca-hrazy! Dave! I ran into the bathroom and pretended I had to urinate, stuffing several paper cups, plastic cups and pieces of styrofome in the toilet. Oh, I’ll “go with the flow” alright. I pulled the fire alarm. Everyone in the building ran out, screaming. I had freed all of the homeless, the insane, the lost children, the bitter souls. They were free at last. The catmen in their tuxedos, the boys with their boleros, and even the various taco bell employees. A man in a George jetson costume came up and shook my hand. “I’m not actually George jetson, as he is just a cartoon character, but I just want to thank you for freeing us.” He took off his mask revealing another, smaller mask of George Jetson. The homeless danced on parked cars, hell, even the cops came in with a six pack of Budweiser and began to recant campfire tales about all the lost episodes. Even the doctors, nurses and janitors joined i. “We were the truly insane ones.” They said. “40 hours a week working for some asshole who won’t even let you take the weekends off to buy pornography at the only store in town. But you freed us. You fuckin’ freedus!” They started to cry. “Go go gadget satisfying conflict and resolution.” I said, laughing. They all laughed with me. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. We were all laughing. Just laughin’ away at the hilarious joke. ] And then that head came back. It turned out we were the babies in the maternity ward. “Dah dah dah dah dah inspector gadget!” Gadget ran up to the psychiatrist’s chair and spun it around, and screamed! The chair was empty. He had cuffed a fake arm, and there was a bomb on the chair! “Oh my fucking god!” Inspector gadget screamed. This wasn’t a maternity ward. It was an apple clinic. They were…holding apples in beds. Young baby apples with shiny red skin and high quality cores. I was shocked at the apple proportions. The hospital exploded and everyone was dead. The final scene was the most disturbing. They were having a funeral for inspector gadget. But instead of humans, there were various batteries, electric razorblades and old Nintendo games with googly eyes attending. An NES copy of duckhunt stared, sullen. The dog gave a eulogy. “Woof woof, woof woof, woof. Woof woof. Woof. Woof woof. I’m in charge of this narrative now. Me.” Woof.” The various batteries and appliances applauded as inspector gadget’s coffin was lowered into its cardboard package tomb. “I’m gadget!” The head exploded and flew off, freezing into my tv, all of the lights in my house flickered, and gadget’s face just sat there, as all the buttons on my vcr were broken! I unplugged the tv, but the tape continued to play, it was floating in the light so I unplugged the TV but it remained on despite that fact, I opened up the back and got severely electrocuted! 120 volts shot through my spine as I dropped a boiling hot hot pocket on my big toe, screaming as I stubbed it and I fell on the floor. I looked at the Mcdonald’s tray. Cold. Unconscious. The dramaturgical approach had failed. Oh I get it. “Inspect her gadget.” I laughed to myself for a good twenty minutes as my entire home caught fire and everything I ever knew and loved was engulged in flames.