Powerpuff girls (male reader insert)

Fuzzy logic

(Opening shot: the city skyline in the afternoon.)

Narrator: The city of Townsville!

(As he continues, cut to street level and pan along a couple of blocks. A fireman rescues a cat from a tree for a little girl, and a Boy Scout helps an old woman cross the street.)

Narrator: A community where random acts of kindness are an everyday occurrence.

(Dissolve to the park. As the Narrator continues, two smiling men pop into view. A child pops up between them.)

Narrator: And where warm, fuzzy smiles grace the faces of everyone you meet. (The child smiles as well. The Narrator continues icily.) Except some people.

(Pan from them across the countryside; stop on the forest outside the city and zoom in.)

Narrator: Some people who've decided to be far, far away.

(Zoom in past several signs showing variations on the message "Keep Out" and toward a barbed-wire fence.)

Narrator: Some people who don't like visitors.

(Zoom in on a run-down shack. Fuzzy Lumkins, the big, pink hillbilly creature from "Meat Fuzzy Lumkins," sits in a rocking chair on the front porch. A jug stands behind him; in front of the chair is a slice from a tree trunk to serve as a footstool. He is holding an old shotgun and looking very ornery.)

Narrator: Some people like...

Fuzzy: Hey, you! (working action of gun) Get offa my property! (aiming at camera) Now!

(He fires; the Narrator cries out, and the screen fills with gunsmoke. When it clears, the camera has pulled back quickly past the barbed wire, putting as much distance between the Narrator and Fuzzy as it can to avoid another round of buckshot from him.)

Narrator: Some people like... (Close-up of Fuzzy.) ...Fuzzy Lumpkins!

Fuzzy: Damn trespassers. I'll get anyone or anything that gets on my property!

(He works the action again to load another round. A leaf floats slowly down into view in front of him. He eyes it suspiciously and tilts his gun forward to keep it trained on this intruder. Finally it settles onto the porch.)

Fuzzy: Get offa my property! Nowa!

(He fires, blowing a hole in the porch and obliterating the leaf. Now a butterfly flits into view behind him; when it moves into his field of vision, he aims at it.)

Fuzzy: Hey! Get offa my property right now!

(He fires, putting a hole in the wall of the shack. The butterfly is nowhere to be seen, either having managed to flitter out of the area Fuzzy fired at and escaped to safety, or something much worse. He jumps out of his chair and faces the camera.)

Fuzzy: Carn sarn it! Anyone else wanna try and get on my property?!

(His perspective of the woods. No living thing is in sight. Close-up of him.)

Fuzzy: Good. Hm. (smiling) Reckon it be time for some old-fashioned relaxation. Yep, yep, yep. (looking o.c around himself) Ahh, now let's see.

(Close-up of a straw hat on the porch; he reaches into view and picks it up.)

Fuzzy: (from o.c.) Good ol' hat. (Back to him; he puts it on.) Check.

(Close-up of a corncob pipe on the porch; he picks this up as well.)

Fuzzy: (from o.c.) Trusty pipe. (Back to him; he puts it in his mouth.) Check.

(Close-up of the jug.)