Johnny goes to Washington


Receptionist:  Congressman Murtha will see you now – go right in.

Johnny Quest:  Thanks.  Race, Bandit, come on!

(After closing Murtha’s office door)

Murtha: Hello Mr. Quest… (extending his hand)

Race Bannon: I’m not Johnny.  He’s Johnny (pointing).

Murtha: (surprised and uncomprehending) This boy isn’t old enough to vote.  What’s going on here?

Johnny: We’ve been listening to your speeches and press conferences over the high frequency A/V transceiver system in my Dad’s lab.  You’re starting to tick some people off.

Murtha: Why you- !  You’re not even one of my constituents!  If I don’t care what they think, why should you matter to me?

Johnny: Bandit!  Guard!

Bandit, a 110 pound rabid Rottweiler with bad breath and a caffeine-withdrawal headache, knocks the congressman to the floor, straddling him and letting the his dog drool drip onto the politician’s face.

Murtha:  Bandit??!!!  What happened to that ankle biter of a mutt I thought you had?

Johnny: He’s here, sort of.  This pooch ate him, so after being digested and converted into muscle mass, you could say the old Bandit is still with us.  But we’re getting off topic.

(Knocking at the door)

Receptionist: Congressman Murtha – are you all right?

Murtha: Help!  Call -! (Race stuffs a rag in the traitor’s mouth).

Race: The clock is running, Johnny.  We’ll be up to our armpits in Park Police in a few minutes.

Johnny:  Gotcha.  OK, Mr. Murtha, here’s the scoop.  You’re going to throw your support behind our troops.  Do you know what that means? (Pulls out the gag)

Murtha: But I do support- oof! (Gag reinserted)

Johnny: Don’t give me that flatulent bilge!  Supporting the troops means supporting them in the full success of their mission.  And don’t give me that “I used to be a Marine” crap.  Bandit – sit!

Murtha: OOF!!!

(Beating at the door)

Race: (Drawing his 1911 with the jeweled-finish slide and customized trigger that broke like a glass rod at precisely 3.4 pounds) We have company Johnny!

Johnny: Call for pick up, Race.  Murtha, I’ve taken down bigger thugs than you since the 60’s.  You don’t have any spine under that feeble old man exterior.  You’ve sold your soul.  Time to repent.

(The roar of a vertijet is heard overhead)

Over Race’s radio: Ready for pickup!

Race: We’ll be out in a second, Hadji.

Johnny: Remember this, Murtha, you never know where I’ll turn up.  And I have technology from my Dad’s lab that the DoD’s black project boys can only dream of.  Change your ways, or you’ll see me and Bandit again!  Get behind the troops and their Commander-In-Chief!

With that parting comment, Johnny, Race, and the new & improved Bandit were out the window, being hoisted up to the cloaked vertijet.

As Hadji piloted the craft away Johnny and Race looked back with satisfaction on their successful caper.

Race: That got kinda close at the end.  I think I heard the door break open just as we left the window.

Johnny: Yeah, that sure was fun, wasn’t it?

Race: Yep, I gotta hand it to you, this beats hanging around the lab.  What’s next on the list?

Johnny:  Let’s go see what Senator Clinton is up to.

Race: Sounds like fun.  I’ll get the C-4.