The Dumpster

The following takes place immediately following: Stanbot Who?

A few days after discovering that Mayuri was leaving him to marry Travers, Waldo was still recovering from his drunken stupor. At last, he had decided to move on and was eager to find a new place of his own. The Master had followed him out to the bins behind the Council dormitory and was observing him with a look of perplexity.

wF: Yes, yes... this will do nicely!

MD: Waldo... Are you sure you don’t want something a little more comfortable? Something with... less trash?

wF: More comfortable? It’s perfect!

Waldo dives into a large dumpster and begins swimming around in the trash, mostly discarded food. He reemerges with a banana peel resting atop his head.

MD: 🤢

wF:: This is just the ticket! A new pad for our return to bachelorhood! Spacious, fully furnished, and with daily meal deliveries by the looks of it. Not to mention, it’s conveniently close to your place! Location is everything, after all. Yes, yes. We’ll take it! Waldo has been too domesticated of late—it’s time for a return to form!

MD (sighs): Oh, very well then. Just make sure you bathe before your lessons. You’re not dragging that stink into the classroom.

wF:: Yes, sir!

Mr. Konrad appears, stepping out of the building.

K: Ah... there you are, Master Devlin! I have another message for y—

He stops, staring at the goblin in the dumpster, covered in trash and bin juice.

wF:: Yes? Can we help thee?

K: What? Oh. No, sorry, it’s just uh... Nothing. Nevermind. Anyway, Master Devlin, I was sent to deliver this letter to you.

He hands the Master an envelope, which Devlin opens and begins to read:

Dear Master Devlin,

I am most honored that you will be walking Mayuri down the aisle and giving her away to me, Mr. Travers! I can’t tell you how much it means to her. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye—what with your penchant for speaking out of turn at every opportunity—but I always believed we shared a mutual respect in our professional opposition. Your willingness to participate in my wedding shows your quality, sir. The highest!

I wonder if I might be so bold as to ask you for one more favor. You may have heard that the Archbishop of Waldobury was brutally mauled the other night by an unknown assailant and, alas, will not be available to perform the ceremony, as he is expected to be in intensive care for some time. As such, we are now in need of a replacement, and I thought—who better than Master Devlin?

As you may be aware, under Waldoversian Law, Masters and former Masters are legally licensed to officiate weddings (just not their own—hence why I can’t do it myself, ha ha ha), meaning you are perfectly qualified for the job.

I understand if you need a little time to decide, but the wedding is fast approaching, and we’d appreciate an answer as soon as possible. I do hope you will agree, as it would mean the world to both of us.

Yours sincerely,

Harris John Travers, National Treasure.

Many minutes later, the Master is still staring at the letter. Mr. Konrad checks his watch, growing impatient.

K: Master Devlin?

No response.

K (to Waldo): Is he having another one of those episodes?

wF: Probably! Could take a while. Hey... that’s a nice watch! Can we has it?

K: Um... no.

wF:: But it was our birthday recently, and we wants it. Nice bit of class to contrast with the trash.

K: It’s not for sale. It was a present from my wife.

wF:: Well, that’s okay. We wasn’t looking to buy it. flicks switchblade

A couple of minutes later:

Waldo is now wearing Konrad’s coat, which is about ten times too large for him, and emptying his wallet as an unhappy Konrad looks on, helpless, shoeless.

wF:: Ooh la la. Is this your wife in this photo?

K: Yes.

wF:: Ah, and here’s your address... Maybe I’ll pop round sometime for tea...

K: You go near my family, and I’ll—

wF:: Hush hush now, Kyle. You’re in no position to make threats. But we do appreciate these charitable contributions. Very generous of you, uh-huh. That’s right! Here’s your wallet back...

K: Can I have my photos back??

wF:: Afraid not. These are going on my walls here. You may go now. Good day, Mr. K.

Waldo closes the dumpster. Konrad sighs, defeated, and starts to walk home. He doesn’t get far before the Master comes out of his fugue state.

MD: Mr. Konrad!? I do apologise. I was in a daze...

Konrad returns.

MD: Thank you for the letter. I will get back to Mr. Travers in due— What has happened to you? Where is your coat?

K: It was stolen.

MD: Stolen? By whom?

K: That villain in the dumpster... The street urchin. Robbed me! Took my money, my watch, my shoes, my coat— even pictures of my family.

MD: Yes, he does that.

The Master walks over to the dumpster and bangs on the lid. The dumpster groans.

K: Careful. It has a knife.

MD: Don’t worry. His knives are useless...

The Master bangs again, louder.

MD: WIDDLE FRUNKUT!!

wF: Go away. This is a no cold-calling zone.

MD: GET OUT OF THERE THIS INSTANT.

wF: No one’s home. This is a recorded message. You’re talking to a machine!

MD: OPEN UP!

wF: Go away! My wife will hear us...

Waldo starts making loud snoring sounds.

MD: WIDDLE FRUNKUT, THIS IS YOUR MASTER! GET OUT OF THERE NOW!

The lid creaks open. Eyes peer out.

wF: Oh hey, Masta... Why didn’t you—

The Master opens the dumpster and starts trying to pull Waldo out. It’s like wrestling with a fish.

wF: Unhand me, Yankee! What’s the meaning of this?

MD: Get out of there...

wF: Fine...

Waldo hops out, still wearing the oversized coat, tied on with string.

MD: Did you mug Mr. Konrad?? Well??

wF: No. Don’t know any Konrad.

MD: Are those your possessions, Mr. Konrad?

K: Yes. That’s my coat.

wF: No! They is ours. They’re in the dumpster, ergo Wiffuhuh’s property. Finder’s keepers, bitch!

The Master looks at the coat. After only a few minutes, it already has holes, stains, the elbows ripped out. It has completely changed color. Looks damp and soggy.

K: My father gave me that coat! Ten years, I’ve had it... Perfect condition until now... Ruined... 😞

The Master returns all the stolen items to Konrad.

MD: There you go.

K: ...Thanks.

Konrad turns one of his shoes upside down. A glowing green liquid pours out.

MD: What the hell is wrong with you, Waldo?

Waldo shrugs.

wF:: Goblin?

MD: I do apologise, Mr. Konrad. He is quite repulsive.

Konrad shakes his watch, then brings it to his ear.

K: My wife gave me this for our anniversary... It cost £700!

He shows the Master. The big hand is going counterclockwise.

K: What have you done to it, you vile fiend?

wF: We improved it. You’re getting younger now. You’re welcome, by the way...

Konrad shakes his head, disgusted.

wF: We must say, you seem very ungrateful. If it wasn’t for the Masta, you wouldn’t have got the stuff back at all! You should apologize right now...

K: apologise? For what?? My most prized possessions are ruined! I have every right to be upset!

wF: Ooh, is that so... Well, the question is, what are you going to do about it?

Infuriated, the Master grabs Waldo, puts him over his knee, and starts smacking his bottom. Waldo squirts corrosive liquid from his mouth at Konrad. He screams as it starts to eat into his leg.

K: Arrgh! MY LEG! IT BURNS!!

MD: WALDO!!!

The Master smashes Waldo’s face off the ground and rushes to Konrad’s aid.

MD: Don’t worry. You’ll be alright. Mostly just surface damage...

The Master applies a solution and a bandage.

MD: I’ve dealt with Waldo’s corrosive discharges before.

wF: 🥴

K: Ah... I see. Thank you.

The Master picks up Waldo’s ragged body and throws him in the dumpster.

K: What’s the matter with that thing? When I met him before, he was polite!

MD: He’s evil. Lures you in with politeness and then strikes.

K: Why do you associate with evil?

MD: It’s complicated... He’s my pupil. A failed pupil. He thrives on chaos...

K: I see. This is most perplexing.

Suddenly, the Master feels a sharp pain stabbing into his side. He turns to find a small knife buried in his belly—with Waldo holding the handle.

wF: That was not very nice at all, my love. And now you must be punished...

Waldo twists the knife.

Frakes appears from behind one of the bins.

Frakes: Alright, you two. That’s enough... You’re supposed to be allies now! What is this nonsense?

Waldo does a Dil face, then extends a flipper. They realise the Master has fugued again. Frakes starts poking the Master in the eye with a stick.

MD: Frakes, don’t do that. 😠

The Master plucks hairs out of Frakes’ mustache.

Frakes: Ouch! Well, it worked, didn’t it? Now shake hands with Waldo. It’s for the good of the Waldoverse.

Frakes tenses up for a second, and the hairs instantly regrow.

Waldo again extends a flipper.

wF: Sorry about the Falklands, old boy... Even though they were ours! Frakes is right, we shouldn’t fight.

MD: 🤨 Umm... yeah.. sure, whatever.

wF:: Splendid!

They shake hands.

MD

The story continues in The Wedding