[A man walks into the Mess wearing a flightsuit and a fleece-lined leather jacket. On the front of his jacket is written "Bandicoot." The other thing of note that the man wears is a
wide grin...ear-to-ear seems to fall short of accurately describing it. As per his routine, he stops to make his tea. When he is done, he is still grinning maniacally...]
Hey, Murhpy! Regardless of what is about to transpire, I want you to set up a five-star meal for everyone tonight. I mean absolute, first-class, put-the-Parisians-to-shame stuff. Use all your creativity, spare no expense. And put it on my bill.
[He heads into the common area and leaps onto the now heavily trampled center table. For once, Psiclops' drink remains upright. He pauses to pull a cigar from one of the cargo pockets of his suit. He lights it and waits for everyone's attention.]
My fellow MARSupials. You will never know how deeply touched I am by your outpouring of well-wishes. Quite frankly, I was stunned. I had no idea that there were so many who thought so much of those who performed missionary work or missions of mercy. Nor did I realize that there were so many who thought so highly of me. Thank you. Thank you very much indeed.
Now, in order to make the next part of what I have to say more comprehensible, I'll need a, well, a visual aid.
[He steps off the table and excuses himself as he moves through the gathered crowd. Going to a nearby wall, he stops and admires the picture at the top of the calendar...Jovian storms]
I'm not going to Madagascar. Neither is my wife. We'll be staying right here at home in good ol' Cincinnati.
[As he looks at the crowd, he realizes that something is amiss. They don't get it. He looks to the calendar and suddenly understands. Nobody has advanced the calendar. He reaches out and lifts the page.]
Before the demise of EON-4, I figured that as DoH, I'd have to plan something spectacular, something astoundingly good for this day. When AmCy folded, my plans were retired. But when this place came along, it was too good to pass up. But I succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. There has never been an easier, cheaper, more effective April 1st in my entire life!
APRIL FOOLS!!!
[The wide grin suddenly falls from his face as he sees torches being lit. In the back, Murphy hands out pots and pans while Ed takes the heads off mops and brooms, distributing the handles. He turns and runs for the door, running faster than he's ever run
before. But it's no use...the doors to the Mess open inwards. They'll catch him there. As he falls to the floor and curls up in ball for protection from the angry mob, he thinks to himself, "This is gonna hurt, but man, it was worth it!"]