Uncle Jacko's Secret Recipe

[42zombies]

With the press of a button, the TV screen flickered on. It was almost enough to bring tears to Kevin's eyes; after so long in that fantasy world, this was like stepping out of the dark for the first time. His armor was laid out on the second bed next to him. Calmly munching on some potato chips, he watched the commercial as it came on.

"Life got you down, friend? You feel like you need a good laugh? Well, let Uncle Jacko tell you a little secret!"

Kevin peered into his bag-- empty. He sighed and continued to watch the tacky commercial, snickering at the man onscreen.

"With Uncle Jacko's Secret Recipe, my stuff is bound to brighten up your day! Feeling a little ugly? How about Uncle Jacko's Lipstick, for the woman/ transvestite on the prowl! I should know it's good, because I use it myself!"

The camera panned out to show a man, bound and gagged, who was strapped to a table. Yanking the duct-tape off of his mouth, the man began screaming for help. This was covered up with happy, carnival music.

"Our friend here doesn't look too happy, does he? Well, with Uncle Jacko's Air Freshener, I'm sure we can fix that!"

The man pulled a can of aerosol spray out from under the table. It was the kind you'd buy at the store-- generic, lemony-fresh. The man pointed it at his prisoner's face and sprayed a heavy cloud of the stuff into his face.

"Ah, that's better! Have a listen to our buddy now!" "Heh-heh... ha... HAHA! HA!" "And it's safe around kids, too!"

Kevin couldn't look away from the bizzare torture that had just occured; he watched the man laughed, moving and struggling as if he were having a seizure. For some reason, this struck him as funny. He chuckled...

Wait...

"Now, I know what you're thinking: 'Uncle Jacko, where can I get this wonderful product?'"

Kevin got off of his bed and found it hard to walk-- he was laughing too hard. Dots blocked his line of sight.

"Well, that's the gag: you probably already bought it."

Kevin grabbed the phone that the hotel had so kindly provided and dialed a number-- he had picked it up when he visited Double D and the other Ed's. He laughed madly, barely able to push the right buttons.

"Whether you bought some make-up... soda... potato chips... Uncle Jacko's got his recipe in everything, kiddies!"

"H-Hello? Ha! Edd? Eddy? C-- HA!-- Come on, pick... PICK UP, PLEASE! Heh-heh... HA HA HA!"

"So just relax, and ask yourself a simple question:"

"I think there was something in some chips I... chips I... HA HA HA! OH, MY GOD! HA HA HA! PLEASE!"

"Why..."

Kevin could only laugh; he barely had enough breath and that was all his body could make him do. He dropped the phone on the ground and staggered back, collapsing.

"So..."

Darkness crept into the corners of Kevin's eyes; he tried to stay conscious, but the laughter poisoned his brain and choked his lungs. He couldn't close his eyes; they were wide and open with energy.

"Serious?"

Kevin smiled; it was all he could do.

"We here at the studio are terribly sorry; we have no idea how that happened. We apologize for any inconvenience. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming."

[nintendonut1]

(whoa...... must've called after they left to rescue Marion. Horrid timing XD)

The door was thrown open quickly.

"Hello??" Peach chriped, worried. "I heard shouting and... OH DEAR!!"

[42zombies]

Kevin's pale-white face grinned a ruby-red smile; eerily familiar to anyone who'd seen Oliver White lately. Every breath he gave was a small chuckle, and they were growing gradually quieter; half-conscious, he looked at Peach with his wide, bloodshot eyes.

[nintendonut1]

"AIEEEEEEE!" Peach squealed, quickly dropping down beside him. She held her hands out, glowing slightly pink, almost in the shape of a heart, and gently touched his chest. Whatever abnormality he was suffering, Peach's Therapy spell was bound to cure it.

[42zombies]

Kevin coughed and sputtered. The blood returned to his face from his lips; this brought the swelling down and got rid of the hideous discoloration. With Peach's Therapy, his laughter also began to calm down until, eventually it stopped. Closing his aching eyes, Kevin gasped for breath.

"Jeez... am I still alive?"

[nintendonut1]

"Looks like!" Peach sighed in relief. A minute later she would've been, and... "What happened to you?? Was it laughing gas or something?"

[42zombies]

Kevin rubbed his head. It was throbbing with pain from whatever had just happened. "I actually think somebody poisoned some potato chips I was eating. I saw this commercial with this weird guy who kept talking about 'smiling' and crap."

[nintendonut1]

Peach paused. "...you know.. to be honest with you... this isn't the first time I've heard that story."

[42zombies]

"Really?" Kevin asked calmly. "Were they smiling when they said it?"

[nintendonut1]

Peach nodded. "Smiling, laughing... almost sufficating themselves. They all said it was after something they ate or drank, too."

[42zombies]

"The way that commercial made it seem, it's not just food." Kevin pointed out. "You might wanna stay away from lipstick for a while." He didn't notice the newscaster on the TV collapse in a fit of laughter.

[nintendonut1]

"Don't worry, I have my own brand on my person the entire time!" she proudly proclaimed. After a thud from the TV, she glanced at it, paling slightly. "...oh my..."

[42zombies]

Kevin looked at the TV screen. They had cut to commercial almost as soon as he turned around. "What? It's only a commercial for The Doctors. I mean, I can understand if you don't like it, but..."

"Hello, all! Uncle Jacko here, again!"

Kevin stared at the grinning face on the screen. "What the... that's him! That's the guy from the commercial!"

[nintendonut1]

PEach gasped. "...is that...?" she asked in a breathless voice.

[42zombies]

"Now, I would like to complain to the news-stations of this island about my lack of news coverage. Over the last few days, the body-count has risen, many thanks to the wonder products I've let loose on this island. However, you fail to even mention these deaths or my commercials! What nerve!

"So, I've compose a list. Nothing too fancy, just the names of various journalists, anchormen, and meteorologists on this tiny, insignificant island. In fact, you just saw the first name on my list collapse in a fit of laughter! This is going to be a countdown of victims that ends at midnight unless someone can find me. It'll be fun! So, seeing as it's 10 on the dot right now..."

With a crackle, the screen changed back to the newsroom. Blood smeared the wall that the newscasters had once sat before; one now lied on the ground, dead and with a smile on their face. The other had been shot by a group of thugs who'd broken in.

Carnival music blared out of the TV as a banner unfurled over the wall. Written sloppily in what looked like purple spray paint were two cryptic words: 'GOOD LUCK!'