You are in a VAT of PURPLE GOO, ELECTRODES stuck to several of your BITS. From the motion and noise, your warm and cozy VAT is probably within a large HELICOPTER which is moving at great speed. Presumably, judging by the BRANDING, the vehicle belongs to the MULE KICK CORPORATION.
You're still quite groggy. You had a strange VISION after drinking that SODA. Something about... TEDDY? JILL and CAD and ALAN? And HAM? And... and... a DUCK? What DUCK? You're getting off track.
You check your pockets and quickly determine that you have, in fact, no pockets to check. Your WICKED AWESOME SUIT has been swapped out for your WICKED AWESOME BIRTHDAY SUIT. This is... less than idea.
There are two other PERSONS OF INTEREST in the COMPARTMENT. A MULE KICK GUARD stands nearby reading some SAUCY LITERATURE. It looks very much like the SAUCY LITERATURE you traded to GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER. The other MAN is less recognizable. He is elderly, which is kinda nifty, and has a WOODEN CANE. He is chatting over a video screen with SOMEONE who you can't quite see, but can definitely hear. It's LARS MUELLER, son of the PRESIDENT of the MULE KICK CORPORATION. Lars seems... perturbed.
LARS: Doctor, I don't care for your excuses! Tell me what you've gotten from his prophetic visions!
DOC: Herr Mueller, as I said, his visions are not comink through clearly. They are to jump, seemingly at ze random! Just ze bite-size pieces of girl, of fat man, of a stuff-ed boar! I cannot make ze head or ze tail of it!
LARS: I hope your machine isn't malfunctioning again, Doctor. I would hate to have to... dock your pay.
DOC: Nein! Das ist nicht gut!
LARS: Regardless. Once you reach the MKC Sarsaparilla we'll fill him with more of that Vision Quest junk and put him into the primary machine.
DOC: And then?
LARS: Well, then we kill him. Duh. I--- didn't you get the memo?
DOC: Oh, ja, ze memo. I forgot.
LARS: Right, OK. Anyway, take five, clear your head, then get back in there and try to suck his brain stuff out or whatever. Is that clear?
DOC: Ja vol mein herr.
LARS: You know I don't speak German, right?
DOC: Ich weiß es zwar nicht genau, aber...
LARS: Right. I'll meet you on the Sarsaparilla. Mueller out.
The connection is broken. Hmm. You're still groggy and this situation is hardly ideal.... Naked on a helicopter in a vat of goo. This has not happened to you before. At least, not that you can remember. What will you do?