Footnote No, this is not a plea for a merchandising deal with Mattel, McFarlane Toys, or anybody else. But if such a deal is offered, I'll take it. I mean, what kind of self-disrespecting schlock mercenary WOULDN'T?
Epilogue: for those of you worried about loose ends, consider these final details:
Newt Sidney's plot to destroy Magic Dream-Land failed, and he came to grips with the fact that the world WAS big enough for competition. To make up for his financial shortfalls, he had the World of Sidney board of directors issue him an option on 200,000 shares of Sidney stock for only a half-cred per share, and then he married his administrative assistant in a ceremony attended by the everybody-who-is-anybody of jet-set entertainment conglomerates.
Chuck "what chin?" Robleski was fully digested by sergeant Schlock, destroying any evidence of his other wrongdoings. Oh well. Schlock's not paid to be a detective, or even a police officer for that matter. Schlock is a mercenary, and his work here is done.
Tom McSony, Newt's left-hand hatchet-man, figured that he had lucked out. The authorities never connected the 'terrorist' attack with him or with his employer. Still, for failing to deliver a crushing media blow to Magic Dream-Land he was reassigned to World of Sidney's offices on Europa. He worked there for a month, taking over their giant mutant ice-kreely breeding program, which was cut short after one of them ate him.
The giant, mutant ice-kreely that ate Tom McSony went on to live a long and prosperous life in the wild, although it did suffer from a brief bout of severe indigestion.
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Narrator:Another contract draws to a successful close. It's been a full week since Schlock devoured the terrorist: An incident-free week spent peacefully patrolling the park for a placated employer.
Schlock:Reporting back as ordered, sir. We can pull out just as soon as we can get Nick and Shep out of the gift shoppe.
Tagon:There's no hurry. Give 'em a few minutes.
Tagon:And just so you know, Sergeant, the way you handled that terrorist should have landed you a promotion. But your indiscretion with the attorney drone should have gotten you demoted, so I think it averages out.
Tagon:I still don't understand why Mister Bejo kept us on contract, though. I'd have thought he'd want to distance himself from us as soon as possible.
Schlock:He did, sir. But I told him that our deal was off unless he kept the Toughs on contract.
Tagon:What deal? when did you do any contract negotiation with our employer, Sergeant.
Schlock:Oh it was just part of the licensing agreement.
Nick:Sarge! They're in! An lookit! I wish I had pecs like this toy does!
Nick:I bought the whole squad! There's a plushy of you in there, and they did some 'schlock in a cup,' too. Kids are gonna love this crap.
Schlock in a cup
Magic Dreamland gift shop
Nick:There's no Tagon-toy, though, sir. Sorry, I looked real hard.
Tagon:No, don't explain. Let me see if I can figure it out on my own. You sold Fez Bejo and Magic Dream-Land the rights to use your squad's likenesses for merchandise, capitalizing on your fifteen minutes of fame.
Schlock:More like forty-five minutes, sir. They're gonna do a weekly kids cartoon about our exploits.
Tagon:What exploits? You can't be reporting back to ghost writers every time someone shoots at you!
Schlock:I know. They're gonna make stuff up. Like fiction, you know?
Tagon:It'll have to be fiction. There's no way that life in a mercenary company could possibly make for family-friendly entertainment.
Narrator:Yeah, That's what the comics board told us. We'll show 'em. . .