Hearts as One

(Open POV)

Townsville…

There is the city skyline in the wee hours of the night.

"The city of Townsville—an average city with average suburbs and average neighborhoods with average family homes." The narrator said, looking at a sample of each particular milieu as it is named and stay on the house. "Here we start with an average family, the Smiths."

Outside Smiths' house…

An alarm clock begins to beep, and the sky lightens into morning. 

Smiths' house…

A fist thumps heavily on top of the clock—a digital model showing 6:00. The fist belongs to a bald man, with a long, banana-like nose, squinting groggily and sitting up in bed. This is Mr. Smith. His wife—darkly tanned, very light blond hair, sharply pointed nose, features bunched up in the middle of her face—is fast asleep next to him. He picks up a pair of square eyeglasses from behind the clock and puts them on; his weary, bleary gaze does not change.

Around him, he is now in the bathroom shower as he washes up, then to the bathroom itself as he brushes his teeth while wrapped in a towel. Next he is in the bedroom, dressed for work and straightening his tie.

"You'll never guess what's for breakfast." Mrs. Smith said, walking across behind Mr. Smith.

Mrs. Smith carries a basket of laundry as she goes. She sounds insanely perky considering the early hour, and we see that she has a pronounced overbite. Mr. Smith is now at the kitchen table. To his left sits his daughter, a pudgy girl with a long blond ponytail and features that almost look drawn on. His son—green-dyed hair, braces, his mother's teeth—sits on his right.

 "Pancakes!" Mrs. Smith said, leaning into view of Mr. Smith.

Mrs. Smith sets down a plate stacked high with them and ducks away. A pause.

"This family stinks!" The son cried.

Mr. Smith is now in the driver's seat of his car as he pulls out of the driveway. 

Townsville…

Next, he is at his job, which consists entirely of pressing two buttons to fill and seal jars of food—it might be mustard—as they pass him on a conveyor belt. 

(Jared's POV)

Outside Smiths' house…

Now Mr. Smith parks the car in front of the house and steps out. His expression has not changed one whit from when he woke up. Behind him, the Professor is doing a bit of hedge trimming. I am playing video games on my Nintendo Switch.

"Hiya, neighbor! Just trimming the hedges and feeling great." The Professor said, happily.

Mr. Smith starts toward his own front door on the end of this line; the two houses are in fact situated right next to each other, and his sports a winding front walk. It takes him some time to reach its other end.

"My life's going perfect, ju-u-ust perfect! Oh, I think I'll sing the 'My Life Is Perfect' song." The Professor said, singing, lounge style. "My life is so perfect…"

"Yes!" I chirped, looking down at my Nintendo Switch. "Got another kill in Splatoon 3! Wait till Buttercup hears that!"

Mr. Smith gets inside and slams the door.

(Open POV)

Smiths' house…

Mr. Smith trudges through the house. His wife addresses him as he passes her.)

"Hi, honey, here's your paper." Mrs. Smith said, while her husband takes the newspaper from her. "Oh, by the way, Julie has a few friends over— the Powerpuff Girls!"

Mrs. Smith's last three words prompt the sort of reaction that normally arises when one grabs a live wire. Mr. Smith stops in his tracks for a moment; then his face assumes its previous weary expression and he slogs along again. He passes his daughter, Julie, and the girls. They are playing jacks.

"Look, Daddy, we're playing jacks!" Julie cheered.

Mr. Smith reaches the couch; his son is hanging lazily off it and watching TV. He flops down next to the boy, who looks at him with anything but filial respect. A pause.

"I hate you!" The son said, angrily.

Mr. Smith opens the paper and begins to read, ignorant of his son's insulting remark, but an announcer's voice cuts him off.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a breaking news update." The announcer said, on TV.

The broadcast shows a reporter with a microphone in hand and an audio receiver plugged into his ear. He has one eye screwed shut, giving him a slightly Popeye-like appearance. Townsville Hall stands across the street behind him; police cars are pulled up in front. The reporter's voice marks him as a different individual from the one who announced the update; he sounds a bit like Howard Cosell.

Townsville Hall…

"This is Stanley Whitfield, live in front of City Hall…" The reporter said.

Smiths' house…

The girls continue their game of jacks.

"…where the evil Mojo Jojo has captured the Mayor and is keeping him hostage inside City Hall." The reporter, Whitfield, said, on TV.

On the end of this, the girls look up, startled upon hearing that the Mayor is in trouble with Mojo, and take off through the ceiling. Julie is left by herself, concern on her face after watching the girls depart to help the Mayor. 

"We've patched into a security camera to get a better view of the situation." Whitfield said, on TV.

Black-and-white view of Mojo pointing a weapon at the head of the Mayor, who is cowering on the floor by his desk. Numerical readouts are seen across the bottom edge, as of a surveillance camera tape.

"It seems Mojo Jojo has a raygun to the Mayor's head." Whitfield said, as a voiceover.

Mr. Smith has the paper partially hiding his face.

"How can this be happening?" Whitfield asked, on TV.

The paper is lowered, revealing a cunning smile on Mr. Smith's face—the first genuine sign of emotion we have seen so far. His eyebrows lower to complete the look. On the TV screen; Whitfield is seen outside Townsville Hall, with a white-mustached policeman next to him.

Townsville Hall…

"I'm standing with Police Chief Hiddledee of Townsville Police Department. Chief Hiddledee, what is your assessment of the situation?" Whitfield asked.

"Stanley, when dealin' with Mojo Jojo, we're talkin' pure evil." Hiddledee said.

Smiths' house…

Mr. Smith has his son who is now napping on the couch, but he is rubbing his hands in evil glee and savoring every word of coverage.

"We got guns, we got tanks, we got missiles all aimed at the Mayor's office…" Hiddledee said, on TV. Mr. Smith starts to lean closer to the screen. "…but pure evil cannot be stopped by these methods. It seems as though evil will prevail."

Mr. Smith snaps glances to both sides of himself as the report continues.

"Thank you for your time, Chief Hiddledee." Whitfield said, on TV.

Mr. Smith tiptoes away from the couch to an open door, which he ducks behind. He looks one way and the other, then pulls his head in and eases the door shut. Mr. Smith is slowly making the sounds of various tools being put through their paces. 

(Jared's POV)

Utonium Residence…

I am playing Mario Kart 8 Deluxe on the TV with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. We are being competitive right now.

"Are you sure you'll be fine with this episode?" Sayaka asked, telepathically.

"The one with the Smiths?" I asked, telepathically. "It'll be fine."

"Are you sure you don't want me and Kyoko to come there and…"

"Positive. What we will do will cause the family to hate us." 

"What you're saying is you don't need us." Kyoko said, telepathically.

"Hey! Blue raspberry. You shouldn't have opened up the line to red velvet." I said, telepathically.

"You might need us around, you know." Sayaka said, telepathically.

"She's right, you know. For all we know, you'd get your ass kicked by the family in the middle of a food fight." Kyoko said, telepathically.

"That is true." I said, telepathically. "Damn it. Buttercup won that round!"

"Yes!" 

"We did it!" Sayaka said, telepathically.

(Open POV)

Smiths' house…

The alarm goes off at 6:00 again. The previous morning's routine plays itself out almost exactly, complete with Mrs. Smith's line as she passes behind him during his dressing. She is carrying another basket of laundry.

"You'll never guess what's for breakfast." Mrs. Smith said, and in the kitchen, she serves up pancakes. "Pancakes!"

"No one understands me!" The son cried.

This line is the one change. Mr. Smith drives to work and performs his job, after which he is the couch, paper in hand. Another news report begins.

"We interrupt this program for a breaking news update." The announcer said, on TV.

Mr. Smith lowers his paper to pay attention. The screen shows the same opening tableau as the previous day's broadcast did.

"Hello. This is Stanley Whitfield, live in front of City Hall, where Mojo Jojo still has our beloved Mayor captive." Whitfield said, while Mr. Smith's eyes gleam wickedly. "And if this situation isn't already horrific, last night it accelerated to new heights."

A box dissolves into view next to him; inside it is another reporter, with a microphone in one hand and the other cupped to her ear.

"On the phone with us is rescue theorist Maria Santiago." Whitfield said, as he is putting free hand to his receiver. "Are you there, Maria?"

"Yes. Hello, Stanley." Maria said, on TV.

"Maria, as we show the viewers last night's footage, could you please comment?" Whitfield asked, on TV.

"Yes, of course."

The screen fills with static as Maria continues. This resolves into the same view as before, but a donut-eating policeman stands in Whitfield's place. 

Maria takes no notice, "At approximately 7:45 P.M. last night, when the situation looked its darkest…"

On the end of this, the policeman looks into the sky, his face brightening. The girls are then seen in flight—this is indeed a previously recorded tape. Maria is no longer on screen.

"…the Powerpuff Girls arrived at the scene." Maria said, as a voiceover.

Mr. Smith's face goes slack in shock at this turn of events, and he begins to twist the paper into a tight bundle. On TV, it is another surveillance recording. The Mayor is now tied up and blindfolded by his desk; during the next line, Mojo runs past, with the girls in hot pursuit.

"Once inside, it seemed the Powerpuff Girls had Mojo Jojo on the run." Maria said, as a voiceover.

Mr. Smith tears the screwed-up paper in half, his face now registering undiluted fury, while looking at the TV. 

"But just then, the tables turned." Maria said, as a voiceover.

The peripheral glare of an o.c. flash is seen, and the image dissolves into static. When it clears, the scene is the same, but Mojo drags the unconscious girls up next to the Mayor as smoke rises from his laser blaster. It is clear he got the drop on the Girls off-camera by zapping them with a painful laser powerful enough to knock them out cold, and now holds them as his hostages alongside the Mayor. He strikes a victorious pose as he silently laughs in triumph.

"Mojo Jojo reclaimed his control. Townsville could be in big, big trouble. Stanley?" Maria asked, as a voiceover.

As Whitfield picks up the story again, Mr. Smith looks positively ecstatic at this turnabout.

"Thank you, Maria. This is a grim day for Townsville. Not only is the Mayor being held hostage, but so are the Powerpuff Girls." Whitfield said, on TV.

Mr. Smith gets up and tiptoes away again; pan to the same door he ducked into the previous day. He peeks out from behind it with another sinister smile and tucks himself away again, slamming the door.

"Dinner will be ready in fifteen, honey." Mrs. Smith said, walking past.

The tools make themselves heard.

The alarm clock is buzzing at 6:00 one more time. The same routine unfolds, and once again Mrs. Smith carries a load of laundry and says, as he gets dressed.

"You'll never guess what's for breakfast." Mrs. Smith said, in the kitchen, and she served up pancakes. "Pancakes!"

"Leave me alone!" The son said, worried.

Drive to work. Do the job. Sit on the couch, smirking and rubbing hands together. Right on cue, another special report begins. Same initial view on TV.

"Hello, this is Stanley Whitfield, live in front of City Hall. It's day three of the hostage situation, and we're still at a standstill." Whitfield said, and Townsville Hall rumbles. "What the—?!"

Townsville Hall…

The structure keeps rumbling and finally explodes. Two policemen covering their ears. Both look up, surprised, and a badly injured and dazed Mojo drops into the arms of one of them. Whitfield is heard stammering a bit before regaining his composure.

"Wha? Mojo Jojo is captured!" Whitfield said, as the Mayor lands in the other cop's arms, looking like he went through the wringer as well with Mojo. "The Mayor is safe!"

In the sky, the girls fly over their heads and across the city. Apparently they were able to recover and give Mojo what for to bring the standoff to a happy end.

"Thank you, Powerpuff Girls! Bless your huge little heads!" Whitfield said, as a voiceover.

(Jared's POV)

Smiths' house…

Mr. Smith does not share Whitfield's sentiment; He is ready to blow every gasket in his head as his face is in a furious grimace as he tries to hold in his building rage. Mr Smith looks at his hideout, approaching it quickly. Just as he is about to reach the door, his wife pops up in front of him. Her eyes are fully open for the first time since the start of the episode; they are a bright ice-blue.

"Sorry, dear. No private time tonight. We're having dinner guests." Mr. Smith said, giggling, and the doorbell chimes as if on cue. "Oh, good, they're here."

Mrs. Smith practically floats across the room and stops at the front door, reaching toward the knob with her back to it.

"Look who's here!" Mrs. Smith said, opening the door and stepping aside. 

The Professor, the girls, and I are on the other side of it.

"Hey." I said, happily. "What's up?"

"Hiya, neighbors!" The Professor chirped.

"Thank you for inviting us." The girls said, at the same time.

Mr. Smith stands frozen in the middle of the front hall; after a moment, nervous sweat starts to bead on his forehead—this is something he never expected, at least not right now. He wipes his brow and finally speaks, in a timid, quivering voice.

"Yeah, uh…hi. Gosh, it's, uh—uh, great to see you." Mr. Smith said, stepping aside. "Marianne, I—I don't think tonight's going to, uh, be a good, uh, night, uh, you know, for this, uh…tonight."

Mr. Smith's wife regards him with some concern for a long moment. We stand at the door, still smiling. Finally Mrs. Smith manages an embarrassed little giggle and turns to the Professor and I.

"Just a moment." Mrs. Smith, Marianne, said.

"Take your time. We're in no rush." I said, smiling.

Now Marianne rounds on her husband, her normally perky tone giving way to shrewish anger. He cowers before her approach.

"You listen to me, Harold! That family has lived a nightmare for the past three days…" Marianne said, straightening her husband's tie. "…and we're going to be good neighbors and help them out through these troubled times." She is pulling on the tie. "Do not, Harold, ruin this dinner!" Marianne looked at us, cheerfully. "Come in!"

After half an hour, I gathered around the coffee table with the Utoniums and the Smiths. There is a brief, tense silence.

"Now isn't this nice?" Marianne asked, giggling.

"Oh, yes. It's nice to relax with friends after a long battle against evil." The Professor said, as if reading a cue card.

"That's right. You really took care of Mojo Jojo, huh?" The son asked, to his father, sarcastically.

"They certainly did." I said, laughing a lot. "The girls were like 'Not so fast! Mojo! Jojo!' And Mojo was like 'I swear that today is the day that I will develop a plan so diabolical and evil, that I will crush the Powerpuff Girls!'"

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were giggling at my imitation of them and Mojo Jojo.

"You know, Buddy, I—I really, uh, think that…maybe we—we—we should talk about something else." Mr. Smith, Harold said.

"Okay, Dad, let's talk about your amazing day. How many mustard jars did you fill?" The son, Buddy, asked.

The Professor, brood, and I are caught by surprise. 

"Uh…" I said, looking down at the floor.

Blossom is the first to try to change the tone, "We don't mind telling the story."

"And to start, villains are stupid." Buttercup said.

Harold is now on his feet.

"Hi, excuse me. Hi, hi-ho, I'm just going to just quickly use the bathroom." Harold said, walking away.

"So anyway, we busted in on Mojo, and…" Buttercup said.

I heard a light switch clicks, and I looked over to see Harold's silhouette at a lit doorway. I then hear a tap open, and water gushes from a faucet into a sink. 

(Open POV)

Bathroom…

Harold splashes some onto his face; he is standing at the counter in a bathroom decorated entirely in pink—it would fit in better at the residence of 'Him' than in a suburban house. Harold regards himself in the mirror, trying to compose himself adequately.

"All right, Harold, you can…you can do this. Just make it through this one night—just one night." Harold said, pausing. "Break."

Harold claps his hands. Now smiling, he strides out of the bathroom to rejoin the conversation.

(Jared's POV)

Smith's home…

"Then, I started to smash his face!" Bubbles said, with mounting enthusiasm.

Harold reaches me and the group, all of us are enjoying the retelling, and then does an immediate about-face to duck into another room. He slams the door behind him.

"Basically, there's no villain around that could take us." Blossom said.

"You girls really are the embodiment of sugar, spice, and everything nice." I said, smiling. "That's why I love you three."

The edge of some sort of blue, fuzzy garment moves into view across from the girls.

"Oh, really?" Harold asked, nearby.

The girls, the Professor, and I stare in surprise.

I looked at a pair of stocking-clad feet on the carpet and looked up slowly to show them attached to a body clad in a pair of red thermal underwear. Yellow rubber gloves cover the hands, a holster is strapped to one hip, and a blue bath mat is tied around the neck for a cape—this is what we just saw. The face is that of Harold, with black-rimmed goggles replacing his square glasses, but his expression looks nothing like his previous bleary, timid countenances seen earlier in the episode, even during his day-to-day routine. Now he is alive with the fire of purpose, but his mouth is twisted down into a scowl. His outfit has a hood, on top of which a sparkler flashes. The whole makeshift, half-baked effect recalls the title character in the Damon Wayans film Blankman.

The Professor, the girls, and I are stunned into silence. Marianne leans in front of us, laughing uneasily.

"What a joker Harold is." Marianne said, looking at Harold. "You're joking, right, Harold?"

"No. I'm finally free, Marianne. I'm the arch-villain I always wanted to be. No more mustard jars and routine days for me! And definitely no more average Harold Smith! I am now supervillain—uh, Harold Smith!" Harold yelled.

We stare at Harold; we are stunned into silence. 

"Uh…." I said, clutching the strap of my sling bag. 

Buddy is the first to break it and expresses something that actually resembles respect for the first time in this episode.

"All right, Dad!" Buddy cooed.

"So tell me, Harold." Marianne said, disdainfully. "What are you going to do with this newfound identity? Hmmm?"

Harold looked over at the corner of the Professor's shoulder next to him.

"I'm glad you asked, Marianne." Harold said, drawing his weapon. "I'm going to take this raygun…" He has the raygun to the Professor's head. "…and melt the Professor's head clear off his shoulders, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Harold's gun has been built from a hair dryer. On the end of this line, he leans up to his intended target's face—so close that his nose is folded down over his own mouth—and laughs dementedly. 

Harold has the Professor at gunpoint again, "And that's just for starters."

The two groups—the girls and I, and Harold holding the Professor—charge at each other, but before we can collide, Marianne inserts herself between us. She is furious.

 "Stop it! Stop it, stop it!" Marianne yelled, while looking at Harold. "You are not going to ruin this dinner, I've worked too hard on it!" She looked at us. "Everyone to the table—NOW!!" She is walking away, sighing and relaxing. "We are going to have a nice evening together."

"Mmm-hmm. But the second that meal is over…" Harold said, making sizzling and choking noises. "GOODBYE, PROFESSOR HEAD!"

The nine of us are at the dinner table. Harold still has his weapon trained on the Professor; the girls and I look angrily toward him.

"Bon appétit." Marianne said.

I looked over at the center of the table and rotated my head slowly to show each person. Harold eats with his free hand, while his captive sits like a statue with a spoonful of food in hand and another in his mouth. The girls and I wolf down our meal, ready to mix it up with this new foe; the rest of Harold's family acts more or less normally. 

Marianne laughs politely, "Isn't this nice?"

"Does anyone want to play jacks after dinner?" Julie asked.

"Nah. I'm good." I said, happily.

"Man, Dad, you're the coolest." Buddy said, smiling.

Harold has his plate now empty.

"I'm done." Harold said, dropping his spoon.

The Professor's plate is still full.

"This is sooo good, Mrs. Smith, that I'm going to just take my time with this plate here." The Professor said, drawing out every word.

The girls and I have made our food disappear.

"I'm done." Buttercup said.

"I'm done." Blossom said.

"I'm done." Bubbles said.

"Done." I said, licking the food off my plate.

The other Smiths have finished their meals as well.

"Well…we should do this more often." Marianne said.

"Does anybody want to play jacks after dinner?" Julie asked.

"Not me. Sorry." I said, smiling.

"Man, Dad, you're the coolest!" Buddy said, excitedly.

"Eat your pea, Professor." Harold said.

I looked over at the Professor who looks worriedly down at his plate. There is nothing left on it but a tiny bit of food. The Professor lifts his fork, then follows it as he lowers it toward the wayward vegetable. 

"Sayaka? Kyoko?" I asked, telepathically.

"Yeah?" Kyoko asked, telepathically.

"What's up?" Sayaka asked, telepathically.

I watch the Professor lower his fork to descend it towards the wayward vegetable; the skin is pierced, and a drop of juice spurts out. 

"Wanna attend the Powerpuff Girls' birthday party?" I asked, telepathically.

The Professor lifts his fork slowly, trying to spin out the moment as long as possible, and regards the pea for a few sweaty seconds.

"Their birthday?" Sayaka asked, telepathically.

"Yeah. It's only their birthday." I said, telepathically.

"Isn't their birthday more of their thing?" Kyoko asked, telepathically.

"You'll be fine, red velvet. Ask Madoka, Homura, and Mami to come too." 

"Eat it!" Harold yelled.

The unfortunate man finally puts the pea in his mouth and looks in Harold's direction. Now he begins to chew very slowly, working the piece of food back and forth between his cheeks and making as if it had the consistency and texture of a three-day-old overcooked steak. This goes on for almost twenty seconds before Harold finally has enough.

"SWALLOW IT!!!" Harold said, angrily.

The Professor does so; I looked down toward his midsection, and we hear the food splash into his stomach. 

"What's going on over there?" Kyoko asked, telepathically.

"This family dinner is taking forever." I said, telepathically. "I just want to punch that guy already!"

The Professor looks as if he is about to meet his doom, with the girls and I looking on and ready to unload on Harold. 

Marianne is on our other side, "Who wants dessert?"

"I do!" The Professor said, frantically, raising his hand.

"AW, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, MARIANNE!" Harold cried.

Marianne pops up between the two men.

"It's…" Marianne said, setting a pie in front of each. "…coconut cream pie."

Now Marianne makes her way around the table, placing one before each girl and I as she continues.

"I made one for each of you." Marianne said.

"Well, you do make great coconut cream pies, Marianne." Harold said.

"Then—eat up, Harold!" Blossom said, jumping up, grabbing her pie.

"Enjoy!" I said, grabbing my pie, and lifting my arm. "This is just for you!"

Harold is hit squarely in the face by two pies; the dessert explodes all over his carefully chosen outfit. The pie plate and its contents slide down to reveal a truly enraged Harold Smith, infuriated by Blossom drawing first blood and me drawing second blood on him.

"Why, you little brats!" Harold said, throwing a pie in retaliation. "How did it not hit you?!"

Blossom ducks and I went intangible; the throw connects to Blossom and not me, and the redhead and I look in that direction and suddenly look unnerved. 

"Ghost powers." I said, smugly, and became tangible again.

Marianne has taken the hit and is not pleased about it, "Harold…?"

Marianne hurls one the full length of the table; it looks like a good throw, but at the last moment, Harold grabs the Professor and uses him as a shield to block it. Buddy laughs at the maneuver and promptly gets one in the kisser.

"Does anybody want to play jacks after dinner?" Julie asked.

Julie is answered with a pie in the face.

"Take that, kin of evil!" Buttercup yelled.

"Kin of evil?" I asked, as Buttercup is tapped on the shoulder, then turns around and gets nailed. "Really?"

Bubbles and I are next to Buttercup, laughing to ourselves at the trick the blonde has just pulled.

"Bubbles!" Buttercup said, worried.

Another pie is thrown into view, connecting with Bubbles, and Buttercup smiles at this karmic payback to her sister. Now it is an all-out food fight, with pies flying everywhere and the eight of us laughing and recreating the food fight in RWBY. 

"Okay. I have to admit, this is rather annoying" I said, telepathically.

The only people who have not taken any hits are Blossom and I; we are also not enjoying ourselves a bit.

"That is true." Sayaka said, telepathically.

"You didn't enjoy being part of food fights." Kyoko said, telepathically. "What a waste."

"Stooooppp!!! Have you all gone mad?!" Blossom exclaimed.

Blossom is hit with a barrage of pies.

"Finally." I said, happily.

The police kick in the front door, guns drawn.

 "What's going on in here?!" A policeman exclaimed, with an Irish brogue.

"He's got a gun!" The girls, the Professor, and I said, pointing at Harold.

"And he was gonna hurt the Powerpuff Girls by killing the Professor." I said, looking down at the floor.

Harold hangs his head in shame and defeat, putting up no resistance or attempt to defend himself from being arrested.

(Open POV)

Outside Smiths' house…

Harold is sitting in the back seat of a police car. It rolls away toward Townsville with its lights flashing and siren wailing. 

(Jared's POV)

Smiths' house…

Marianne watches it go from the front window, her back to us. The Professor, girls, and I stand at the doorway, with dessert still all over our faces.

"Thanks for a wonderful time, Mrs. Smith. We should do it again real soon." The Professor said, and the girls and I leave. "Uh…bye."

"Thanks for the dinner and dessert!" I said, laughing a lot.

The Professor runs after the girls and I.

Marianne turns to her kids to reveal pie splattered mostly on one side of her face and her features set in ice-cold fury.

"Those Powerpuff Girls ruined my dinner!" Marianne growled.

"Uh-oh. Looks like evil runs in the family." The narrator said, uneasily.

(Open POV)

The standard end shot comes up.

"So once again the day is sav—uh, I mean, dinner is ruined, thanks to the Powerpuff Girls!" The narrator said, in his normal tone.

The End!

We'll see you again soon!