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And the Goddess didst smack him.

And it came to pass that there was one man foolish enough to drive around the God of Parking with a cell phone, and after a short discussion, Matt didst shove it up his ass.

‘Ouch! That’s gotta hurt!’ cried Nori. ‘Thou shalt need a fuckin’ frontal lobotomy to get that phone back, asshole!’

‘I calleth that a wireless enema,’ spake the God of Beating the Hell Out of Bill Gates. ‘Thou art to do that to all who endanger our streets by driving with cell phones.’

‘Don’t ye buy no ugly truck!’ spake the Goddess.

‘Hell yeah!’ quoth RJ, but neither he nor Yoco didst have room to bow.

‘Oh, by the way, Brian Fritz,’ spake Matt, ‘we have come up with a new name for thee: Peppy. Thou shalt now be called Brian Fritz Pud Yoco “Peppy” Skanky-Bitch.’

And so the Gods of Hondo didst let the Dudes off at the next town, and Scoot didst fall asleep under a tree, for he had not slept in many days.

And it came to pass that Ayatollah Asshollah didst come unto the town, and Dr Färtnøkker was with him.

‘Now I shall have my revenge against the Infidels!’ quoth Ayatollah Asshollah. ‘Push the button, Herr Doktor!’

And Dr Färtnøkker didst push the button, and a sight more terrifying than Martha Stewart with a hot glue gun, creepier than that guy who doth paint Happy Little Trees, more disturbing than a John Denver Christmas Special, the Nazi Armored Battle Refrigerator came forth with heavy armor and swastikas, crushing anything in its path.

‘Arise, Scoot! Wake up!’ cried Nori. ‘Goddammit, wake up! How canst thou sleep at a time like this?’

But Scoot didst sleep like the dead, and he wouldst not stir.

And the Dudes went forth, not fifth (or they wouldst be last) to do battle with the Nazi Armored Battle Refrigerator.

But the Refrigerator was made with the lost art of die-cast construction, and didst not fall apart like those cheap models which art Made in Taiwan; the Dudes couldst not leave even a scratch on it.

‘Fire at will, Admiral!’ cried Dr Färtnøkker, and the Nazi Armored Battle Refrigerator didst open, unleashing a barrage of vintage ’81 eggnog cartons, destroying half the town in one shot.

‘That doth smell like shit!’ cried Nori. ‘I think I’m gonna fuckin’ puke!’

‘Join the club!’ quoth Casey.

And the Dudes didst attack again, but even the Hyper-X Buttplate was no use against the Battle Refrigerator.

And still Scoot slept and wouldst not awaken.

‘Bomb the town!’ cried Dr Färtnøkker, and the Battle Refrigerator didst open again, launching packages of last school year’s Mystery Meat.

‘By Barbara Streisand’s beard!’ cried Nori, ‘that thing’s powerful enough to destroy an entire fuckin’ planet! Look for a weakness, ye dumbasses!’

And still Scoot slept and wouldst not awaken.

‘Prepare to fire again!’ quoth Dr Färtnøkker. ‘Ayatollah Asshollah, ye must stop that Dude over there! The machine canst not sense him for some reason!’

‘I shall deal with him myself…’ quoth Ayatollah Asshollah.

‘This refrigerator must be stopped, no matter the cost…’ quoth Peppy as he wielded the Edge. ‘But how?’

And that was when he didst trip over the way to pulleth the plug.

‘Damn! That’s one hell of a long extension cord!’ cried Peppy as he didst pull it.

And it came to pass that the Nazi Armored Battle Refrigerator didst fall down and it couldst not get up, and the Dudes didst beat it up like a common photocopy machine.

‘Let us get the hell out of here!’ cried Dr Färtnøkker, and he didst flee.

‘Thou knoweth, this will cost thee thy funding!’ quoth Ayatollah Asshollah. ‘How couldst thou overlook such a simple weakness?’

And it came to pass that Scoot didst wake up from his refreshing nap. He didst look at the Battle Refrigerator’s remains and asked of the Dudes, ‘Did I miss anything?’