Episode 2

When we were last with Rocky and Bullwinkle, they were frantically digging a hole into the ground with the goal of reaching China on the other side of the world. Flying there wasn't an option.

"I can't get my antlers past airport security," said Bullwinkle.

Their goal after reaching China is to get a strange weapon repaired for none other than those two nefarious arch villains, Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale. Or perhaps, should we say Natasha Fatale and a cute little girl?

"Please don't rub it in, darlink," said Natasha.

The reason Natasha Fatale is so upset is because the cute little girl was once the aforementioned Boris Badenov. How did this incredible transformation take place? Apparently Boris Badenov was using a ray gun developed by Pottsylvanian scientists. When a person is exposed to the exotic rays they drastically change its victims' brain and body chemistries. The dastardly villain missed his intended target. The rays struck a barroom mirror and reflected back on Boris making him the victim.

"I don't feel so good," said Boris and collapsed in a faint.

After the rays had taken full effect, the result was a cute young lady with a fabulous singing voice. She can belt out Broadway show tunes...

"I could have danced all night. I could have danced all night And still have begged for more."

... as well as operatic arias.

"Un bel di vedvemo levarsi un fil di sull'estremo confin del mare."

"On top of that, she's nice too," Natasha added. "Is disgusting."

So why is that a bad thing? Why are our heroes so anxious to get the ray gun repaired so that Natasha can blast the nice little girl in hopes of getting the old evil Boris back?

"We're trying to save the series," said Rocky. "We need a villain to make things exciting. Nobody's going to watch our show if all Bullwinkle and I do is sit around and play cards."

"There's always board games, Rocky," said Bullwinkle.

Yes, the series might very well go kaput if there's no more bad in Badenov.

"Hey Rocky, can we take a break? We've been digging all day."

"I guess so. How deep do you think the hole is?

"About three feet."

"At this rate it'll take forever to get to China."

"Perhaps I may be of assistance?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Mr. Peabody and this is my boy Sherman. Say hello, Sherman."

"Hello."

"I'm your canis ex machina."

"What's that?"

"Canis ex machina is Latin and means literally 'dog out of the machine.' It's a dramatic device where a superior dog (myself, of course) unexpectedly steps into the middle of a plot and resolves a seemingly irresolvable problem. It's a well used stratagem for inferior writers who have written their characters into a tight fix and can't figure a logical way out for their protagonists. It dates from the Greek tragedies. I taught the technique to the playwright Euripides and others while on a visit to Greece in the fifth century BC."