Out of Turn: A Waldoverse Buddy Movie

Travers and Master Devlin leave the courthouse.

Travers: Well, Master Devlin, what did you think of that result? Not too bad, huh? And to think you said I desperately needed a lawyer.

Master Devlin: It’s the best verdict we could’ve hoped for. You got off easy. The acting DA was a joke, and you're extremely lucky Cynthia Jones had a nervous breakdown — and that madwoman Matheson tried to falsely accuse you...

Travers: Yes, sir, it's true. It's like I said, Master Devlin — faith in Ed can work miracles.

Master Devlin: Hrmph. Ridiculous.

Travers: So, Master Devlin, about this fine and taxes business... could I borrow £770,000?

Master Devlin: No, Travers. I know you have money. And even if I did lend it to you, I’d never see it again.

Travers: Hrmmm. Well, could you at least tell me how to find this money? I don’t know where it is.

Master Devlin: I don’t know, Travers… Go sell some moustaches. Or do some honest lawyering. Get yourself a big case and earn some money. You're supposed to be this national treasure, hot-shot lawyer with loads of clients. Just be happy you're not in prison.

Travers: Well, I still might go to prison if I can’t pay the fine and taxes! We’ve got no income. No clients...

Master Devlin: Why not? Go get some!

Travers: Haven’t you heard? There’s already a petition for a retrial. My name’s still being smeared in the press... They’re livid I was found not guilty — they’d already decided I was. Travers’ reputation has been thoroughly damaged by this outrageous scandal.

Master Devlin: What happened to all that money you conned out of people?

Travers: I never conned anyone! Most of the money I have in savings goes toward Ermintrude’s generous salary. TTS has been operating at a loss for some time...

Master Devlin: Well, I’m not bailing you out. I’m not trying to be rude, but this isn’t my problem. I offered you help — to make you my pupil — and you turned it down. So go do something. Go be with your wife.

Travers: Nooo, Master Devlin. I can’t. Hospitals make me nervous. Full of disease — and perverts.

Master Devlin: What’s wrong with you?? It’s because of you and your pervy ways that she’s in hospital.

Travers: It’s not a good idea. She’s in a coma. She can’t change my oil... Well, maybe? NO! No. I’ll visit her later. She needs rest. I’m just going to follow you for now.

Master Devlin: I’d rather you didn’t. I have work to do. Go find yourself a hooker if you need your oil changed.

Travers: I can’t do that, I’m married! C’mon... I won’t get in your way! I was thinking we could be partners. Work cases together — like a buddy movie. You, the uptight, snarling master… Me, Travers, the sleazy lawyer-con-artist. Learning to put aside our differences to work together and becoming fast friends...

Master Devlin: 😒 Fine. Come along, then. But I’m not thrilled about this idea.

Travers: Excellent! I’ll be the Charles Grodin to your De Niro. The Eddie Murphy to your Nick Nolte... The Riggs to your Murtaugh...

Master Devlin: Appropriate. I'm definitely too old for this shit...

Travers: Just you wait. Someday there’ll be a movie about our friendship. They’ll call it Out of Turn...

Master Devlin: Swell... Come along, Travers. We're going to find the gold you’ve buried. You think I didn’t know about that?

Travers: Master Devlin, you are speaking out of turn... I don’t recall burying any gold...

Master Devlin: Oh well... maybe it was Widdle Frunkut who buried it. Doesn’t matter. Either way, you need it now. I reckon 15–16 kilos should do the trick. You have 30 days to pay your fine and back taxes. Otherwise, you’ll have to fold Travers, Travers & Shiina. Declare bankruptcy. And even then, you might still go back to jail...

Travers: Well, if it’s out there, we should go find it. We mustn’t let TTS go under — for the good of Waldonia! Otherwise, Ermintrude will have to find another job. One where she has to wear a top! That would be a national tragedy...

Master Devlin: Yes, quite. A treasure hunt it is, then. Though Widdle Frunkut won’t be pleased... But seeing as he’s been stealing from me for years, technically it is mine. So, from a certain point of view, I am bailing you out. Knowing Waldo, though, this won’t be easy. There’ll be traps. Probably riddles. I’m not even sure where to start. If only your wife were awake — I could ask her.

Travers: What about his other wife? The penguin in prison?

Master Devlin: If Tess knew, she’d have found the gold already. And even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t help without a cut. At least 50%. In her delusion, she thinks she’s entitled to it. I wouldn’t speak with her unless we had absolutely no other choice.

Travers: I wasn’t suggesting we mention the gold at all.

Master Devlin: Then what were you suggesting?

Travers: Just… looking for leads. On Waldo.

Master Devlin: What, on Waldo’s whereabouts?

Travers: Uh... yeah.

Master Devlin: No need. Waldo isn’t in the realm right now.

Travers: Oh. I see... Well, anyway... the gold is probably in a dumpster somewhere. Or some underground master tomb.

Master Devlin: Let’s start with Waldo’s dumpster on Council grounds. Maybe there’s a clue.

Travers: Lead the way, partner.

****

Master Devlin and Travers approach Waldo’s infamous dumpster behind the Council dorm building. On the way, they pass Kaz's burger van, which hisses and steams with chemical sizzle. Nearby, a morbidly obese Frakes lies on his back in the wreckage of a park bench, surrounded by wrappers and broken planks, still gorging himself on burgers.

Travers: Hey, fellas… Seen Widdle Frunkut lately? Maybe with… some gold?

Frakes (mouth full): Nope… scoff No way. Never happened.

Master Devlin: Have you seen anything?

Kaz: Been kinda busy here, boss. But nah. It's been quiet. Just us.

Master Devlin: Kaz, don’t you feel… any responsibility for Frakes?

Kaz: Absolutely! He’s my best customer! In fact, he’s investing in Pax Hamburgana! I’m very grateful to you for introducing us, boss.

Master Devlin: …That’s not quite what I meant.

Meanwhile, Travers is already rummaging through Waldo’s overflowing dumpster, tossing out rubbish with increasing disgust.

Travers: No gold in this dumpster, Master Devlin. Just junk and nonsense—oh… hello…

He pulls out a dusty, framed portrait — an old, romanticized painting of a beautiful Creole woman, bathing nude in a swamp, catfish curling around her legs.

Travers: Wow, look at the pair on her, Master Devlin! Who is this Creole queen?? I must have her work for me. Wait—there’s a plaque:

"Daniella DuBois Devlin, aka Sassy’s Mom, Louisiana, 1797."

Travers: Wait a minute… She’s your mother, dude?! Wow! She’s something. You should be very proud, Master Devlin. Not quite Ermintrude-tier milkers, true, but rather impressive nonetheless… We should bring her in for an interview.

Master Devlin: That’s not my mother. It’s more of Waldo’s nonsense. Despite being a full dragon, he insists my mother was some human Creole woman. He also claims I’m French, Irish, Dutch, Russian Jewish Gypsy, among several other things.

Travers: Huh. You’re not?

Master Devlin: No. I’m Scottish.

Travers (squinting at painting): You sure? I mean… looking at this painting, I can definitely see the resemblance.

Master Devlin: Quite sure. No relation. I doubt she was even real. Either Waldo made her up, or found the name and decided she must be my mother. No evidence whatsoever.

Travers: Oh… well. Good! I guess that means you don’t mind if I take a crack at her, then.

Master Devlin: Not at all. If she was real, she’s almost certainly dead. And knowing Waldo, he’s probably dug up her grave, thinking he’s somehow robbing me.

Travers: Dead, huh? Well… Travers does like the MILFs... but dead might be a bit of a stretch. Especially if her, uh… assets have decomposed.

Master Devlin: Indeed. Shall we move on?

Travers: Uh… sure. Where to?

Master Devlin: Hmmm. I have no idea.

Devlin walks back over to Kaz and Frakes. Travers follows, still carrying and ogling the painting.

Travers: Wait, Master Devlin! What if the gold is here?

Travers thrusts the nude painting of the master's “mother” back in his face.

Master Devlin: Travers, put that away!

Travers: No, Master Devlin — here! In the swamps of Louisiana. This painting could be a treasure map! Find the location, find the treasure!

Master Devlin: And how exactly are we meant to find that spot? Seems highly unlikely. Although...

Travers: Yes?

Master Devlin: Her grave...

Travers: You think Waldo hid the gold in her grave?

Master Devlin: Maybe.

Frakes: Not a chance. Wheeze Ridiculous.

Master Devlin: You’re ridiculous, Frakes. Look at you, man! Kaz, get him another 12 burgers — looks like he needs them.

Frakes: Do you mind? I’m eating. But yes, Kaz — 12 more. For starters.

Master Devlin: How do you make your chemical burgers, anyway?

Kaz: Can’t tell you that. Trade secret.

Master Devlin: Is it beef?

Kaz: …Only three men know. Myself, Ocelot, and Code Talker. And that’s how it’s going to stay.

Master Devlin: Fine. I’ll have one.

Kaz: Sure thing, boss.

Master Devlin: Travers, have you tried these before?

Travers: No… the grease would ruin my moustache.

Master Devlin: Get one for Travers. We’ll stick some tape on it.

Kaz: Fourteen chemical burgers, coming up.

Frakes farts. It bubbles out of his folds. A brown liquid seeps through. He belches — a wave of sulphur stench poisons the air around him.

Master Devlin: Good lord, man.

Travers: That’s disgusting. Something really needs to be done about him. You’re a mess, Frakes! A national embarrassment. And I was a fan…

Master Devlin: He’s probably too fat to even teleport. Where’s your comms badge?

Frakes lifts a breast fold. A Starfleet pin badge tumbles out.

Travers: Away team to Enterprise. Ten to beam up! Hehehe.

Kaz brings the burgers.

Travers: Holy cow... what colour is this?

Kaz: That’s classified.

Master Devlin: I don’t think there’s even an official designation for that colour. Anyway... I suppose we’d better go find that grave, then.

Travers: Don’t you know where your mother is buried?

Master Devlin: She’s not my mother! I thought I made that clear.

Travers: I’m sorry you feel that way, Master Devlin. I don’t know what she did, but you shouldn’t deny your mother. It’s a great shame when family don’t get along. I’ve seen it all — I’ve been to many a brutal family court case.

Master Devlin: I’ve never met that woman. But regardless, it could be a lead. Waldo is convinced we’re related.

Travers: So... where is the mother you’ve never met buried?

Master Devlin: I don’t know.

Travers: You know... Waldo’s a lot older than you. You ever stop to consider maybe Waldo knows something you don’t?

Master Devlin: Waldo claims to have had "sexy time" with that woman. He even once claimed to be my father. Waldo lost touch with reality a long time ago...

The Master's phone rings. He answers.

Master Devlin: Yes?

Caller: Hello, is this Master Devlin?

Master Devlin: Speaking.

Caller: My name is David. I’m one of the ICU nurses at JSM Hospital. I’m calling to inform you that Mayuri Travers has regained consciousness. The doctors would like to speak to her next of kin as soon as possible.

Master Devlin: Very well. I’ll bring her husband. We’ll be there right away.

The Master hangs up.

Master Devlin: Good news, Travers — Mayuri’s woken up. Travers?

Travers has gone into a trance. He slowly removes his moustache.

wF: The Masta is an Indian Gavial from the former Soviet region of Tselinoyarsk. Also, he is absolutely half Creole... and a Russian-Jewish Gypsy.

Waldo calmly reapplies the moustache.

Travers: Did you say something, Master Devlin?

The Master, outraged by Waldo’s comment, snatches the moustache from Travers' face.

wF: Oh hi, Masta! French, eh?

The Master backhands Waldo across the face, then slaps the moustache back onto the dazed goblin.

Travers: Huh… wha? 😵‍💫

Master Devlin: Right. Shall we go see Mayuri?

Season 3 continues in Amnesia