Scene: Conference room, GLOBE Relay Station, Pleasantview, Alabama. Monday morning, 9 a.m. Mr. Winter stands in front of a huge, draped object hanging on the wall near the head of the conference table. Seated at the table are the Skipster, Buffy Pleasant, Glory Becker, John Slate, and Kitt Kittridge.
Mr. Winter: First of all, I'd like to welcome a former agent who has decided to return to the fold: The Skipster. (Everyone applauds except Kittridge, who murmers a sarcastic "Yay.")
The Skipster (acknowledging everyone): Thank you. It's good to be back.
Mr. Winter (pressing on): The Skipster has decided to return, because he recently went through a very bad breakup with his fiancée. Gretchen Von Grüber, I believe her name was...
Skipster: Uh... Mister Winter... you really don't need...
Buffy: No! I want to hear more. (Buffy bats her baby blue eyes at the Skipster.)
Mr. Winter (continuing): Evidentally she left the engagement ring lying on the bed, and disappeared for no apparent reason. No note. No goodbyes. Just heartache...
Buffy: Ooooh. (Buffy starts writing on a piece of paper.)
Skipster (exasperated): Mr. Winter... I...
Mr. Winter (continuing): Yes... Love can be a pretty fickle beast. What was it the poet once wrote? "For I have loved and lost. 'Twas better to have lost, than have never lost at all. For as I stood on those ramparts we watched... at the twilight's last gleaming. At end of a love, whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous night..."
Buffy passes a note to the Skipster across the table that reads, "555-6947. Call me."
Skipster: (exasperated) Mr. Winter!!! Can we get please get back to the briefing???
Mr. Winter: Hm? Oh yes. The briefing. Ahem. We have an awesome responsibility starting today, ladies and gentlemen. Behind this covering is a gift of sorts from GLOBE's main headquarters. (Mr. Winter removes covering with a dramatic flourish, revealing a large clock face, protected by a clear, bulletproof cabinet with a large padlock.) GLOBE's own Doomsday Clock!
Slate: Umm... But... the sign above it says "Doomsday..." umm... is that word what I think it is?
Buffy: And the clock's "hands" look more like... little male... umm... "thingies." (She looks over at the Skipster and winks.)
Glory (smiling knowingly):They're not that little, honey. (Glory sighs. She looks over at Slate and winks.)
Kittridge is laughing his ass off.
Mr. Winter (clearing throat): Ahh... yes. A little mix-up in the design department, I fear. They left out the "L," and... No matter.
Skipster: (purposely ignoring the doe-eyed stares of Buffy) Mr. Winter, what's the purpose of this Doomsday Co-- I mean, Doomsday Clock? There's already a Doomsday Clock!
Mr. Winter: The purpose? (dramatic pause) Ours works, Skipster! (scattered "oohs" and "ahhs" from those seated) Which is why this clock is locked and... (reaching into vest pocket, frowning) umm... (reaches into left and right coat pockets, still frowning) That is... (searches pants pockets, with panicked expression) uhhhh... (clearing throat and regaining composure) ...safe in our humble little GLOBE Relay Station here in Pleasantview, Alabama!
Slate: So... let me get this straight. This thing actually has the potential of destroying the world, as we know it? Why on earth was it ever built?
Mr. Winter: Ours is not to question why, Mr. Slate. All we care about is that it exists... and now that it does, it can never be used!
Glory: Okay. So... they spent like a trillion dollars to develop something that can never be used? (Shakes her head in disbelief.) Who were the rocket scientists that thought that one up?
Kittridge: And they put it in Pleasantview? Pleasant-freaking-view? Why Pleasantview? I mean... well...This town sucks!
Skipster (in a low voice): Rein it in, Kittridge...
Mr. Winter: (ignoring Kitt) GLOBE's board of directors felt that this would be the safest location, because any future attacks on GLOBE throughout the world would tend to hit our major branches. New York, Amsterdam, London, Zurich, Prague, Bangkok...
Kittridge: Don't you mean, "Bangklok?" Ha! Get it? (Everyone rolls their eyes and groans. Slate rolls up a piece of paper and tosses it at Kittridge.)
Mr. Winter (ignoring Kitt again): So our rather remote Pleasantview location is seen as being under the proverbial radar... and thus, quite safe.
Skipster: Terrific. (pause) By the way, Mr. Winter... Have you found the key yet?
Mr. Winter: Hm? What key? Oh... that key. Uh... I'm sure it'll turn up eventually, heh heh. (Claps his hands) Now, who's up for cake?
Everyone goes "Oooooooh."
Kittridge (stammering):I... I thought that it was for me! The inscription read "To a wonderful man!"