"No." All Might stated firmly.

"But I haven't said anything yet," Principal Nezu replied.

"You don't need to say anything. I know you're thinking it." All Might's stern tone of voice didn't waver.

The two maintained a thousand yard stare upon one another, they both refused to budge from their positions. The atmosphere in the principal's office was heavy and oppressive, and the entirety of the teaching staff rallied behind All Might could feel the weight bare down on them like a ton of bricks.

"There has to be another way," he reasoned.

"Is there?" Nezu raised a brow. "We've exhausted all our options and available resources. The hero association remains incapable of pursuing action and local law enforcement are no different. We're running out of time. We've no other choice than to pull... the nuclear option." He concluded dramatically as he pulled out a red rotary phone from his desk drawer and placed it upon his desk. "I'm sorry my friend. It's the only way."

"NOOOOOOOO!" All Might's composure shattered and he let loose a defeated roar that shook the floors and rattled the frames on the wall. The force of his horror induced cries rippled throughout his hulking frame before he shrank down to his unfamiliar gangly form. "Anything but that, please!" He collapsed onto his knees and began grovelling. "There has to be another way, there just has to be! I'll recruit All For One if I have to, but please, anything but them!"

"Uh, I hate to ask, but who's them and why do they have twiggy over here in a panic?" Aizawa asked, particular perturbed by Toshinori's actions.

"Oh, have you already forgotten, Shouta?" said Nezu. "You were there when the bombs dropped and it rained perfectly cooked medium rare salisbury steak all over the city's waterfront as 'Yellow Submarine' by The Beatles blared from the loudspeakers of the American nuclear sub."

A sudden wave of horrid memories flooded Aizawa's mind and he felt his stomach lurch at the thoughts. His skin turned clammy, his pupils dilated, and the muscles in his legs turned to jelly.

"Oh, God. Oh, Jesus Christ," he mumbled as he stumbled backwards, only remaining upright as Hizashi caught him before he fell. "Please, not again. The horror, the horror..." he breathed.

"Are you out of your damn mind!?" Cementoss yelled. He was absolutely livid. "The last time they were here an entire generation of heroes was traumatized by their reckless abandonment and callous disregard for human life! We're still trying to pay off the damages that they caused to the city to this day because one of them thought it'd be funny to mess around with a five megaton nuclear warhead, two slices of pecan pie, a Glen Campbell album, and a bucket of vegan lard!"

"And it was with that entirely unnecessary combination of seemingly unaffiliated items that they managed to (mostly) save our fair city from an unnamed menace that had us on the brink of destruction." Nezu calmly replied, in spite of the nervous sweat building up beneath his matted fur.

"That entire debacle was censored by the hero association, the Japanese government, and the United Nations," Midnight added. "Everyone believed it was all just one big movie production that never took off. If we bring those two buffoons back God knows what kind of damage they could do to the city, our credibility, and the countless thousands exposed to their rampant stupidity!"

"I'm with them," Vlad King joined the discussion. "You're trying to hammer in a nail with a wrecking ball. This is too much for something so little."

"I agree. It's overkill," said Snipe. "Besides, didn't the government ban them from coming here ever again?"

"I've made up my mind!" Nezu uncharacteristically snapped, undoing his tie. "This is not a democracy. I'm making the call whether you want to or not, because if I don't we won't be around long enough to argue about it. I'm... I'm calling my older brother and his friend for aid and that'll be the end of it."

"Oh, it'll be the end all right..." Hizashi muttered to himself.

Without a moment of hesitation Principal Nezu began dialing in a set of numbers that grew more and more foreboding with each crank of the rotary dial. Seconds passed painfully slow like days of the month, and the atmosphere morphed into one of pure unadulterated dread. Before long, someone answered on the other end of the line.

"Wah, wah, wah, wah?"

"Hello, I'd like to make a collect call..." He answered nonchalantly. "Yes, I'll accept the charges..."

Somewhere in the good ol' U.S. of A.

The Office of Sam & Max, Freelance Police

"Alright, Sam. I'm ready!"

A short white anthropomorphic rabbity thing with a manic grin on his face and a blindfold over his eyes stood with an apple atop his head, a luger held firmly in his grubby little mitts. Said luger was pointed straight at the aforementioned Sam, a six foot tall anthropomorphic dog in a muted blue suit and matching fedora who was also blindfolded with an apple atop his hat and a large high caliber revolver gripped in his hand pointed back at the rabbit.

"Alright, Max. Whoever hits the apple off their heads gotta pay for takeout tonight." said Sam, holding his gun straight up at a slight angle.

"You're on, Sam!" Max replied, his luger aimed dangerous low in relation to his stunty height. "On three!"

"One!" Max began.

"Two!" Sam continued.

"Three!" "Three!"

*Ring!* *Ring!* *Ring!*

"Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!* *Blam!*

*Ka-thump*

*Thud!*

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...I got it! I got it!~" Both Sam and Max excitedly chanted as they both ran to the telephone (still blindfolded and mysteriously unharmed) at breakneck speeds, barreling through furniture and each other in a mad dash to answer the phone. And yet, it always seems that Sam wins the fray more often than not. "Hello? Hello?! Is it you, Commissioner?!"

"Wah, wah, wah, wah."

"You're gonna have to speak up pal, I got a mild case of tinnitus from screwing around with dangerous firearms without ear plugs!"

"Wah, wah, wah, wah!"

"Oh, okay then. Max, it's for you!" Sam shouted, holding out the phone to no one in particular. Unbeknownst to him, Max was currently bashing himself against the office wall, convinced that the way to the telephone was beyond this mysterious ethereal barrier from beyond the sixth veil of time and space.

After stumbling around a bit, Max tripped over his desk and crashed into Sam, knocking the phone right out his hand and landing right over Max's large rabbit ears.

"Hello? May I ask who is speaking and if I need to hunt them down later?" said Max.

"Wah, wah, wah, wah"

"Eh? Nezu! How ya doing little bro!" he exclaimed ecstatically. "You know, you don't call very often. Mom always ask about you and I always have to pretend to be you whenever she visits. Do you have any idea how stressful it is to wear a suit when you're covered in fur? I mean, sure, Sam does it, but that's because he spent a lot on that suit of his even if it makes him sweat like a musky hyena bathing in a gas station bathroom toilet stall."

"I spent a lot of simoleons on this suit, Max, and by Giant Abraham Lincoln's representative rampaging robotic resurgence I'm gonna wear it!"

"Wah, wah, wah, wah."

"Mmhmm."

"Wah, wah, wah, wah!"

"Uh huh. Evil villain, people disappearing, heroes helpless to act. Got it."

"Wah, wah, wah, wah!"

"Really? Hey, wait. Weren't we banned from going there for all of forever and beyond?"

"Wah, wah, wah, wah... Wah, wah."

"An exception, really?"

"Wah..."

"Well, alrighty then! See you in a few, brother!"

And with that said, Max slammed the handset onto the side of the phone and pulled off his blindfold.

"Guess what, Sam!"

"You've been talking to your long lost Russian mail order bride and she's decided that you really are the love of her life and that she regrets running away in terror after witnessing you doing that weird thing you do with your eye and wants to get back together?" Sam guessed, pulling off his blindfold.

"Even better! That was my little brother!" Max grinned.

"Holy smoking sausages at a weenie roast on Easter Sunday!" Sam exclaimed. "Your younger fraternal twin by about forty seconds who disavows ever being related to you at all for the sake of convenient storytelling and canon stability who's head of the famed Yuuei school for heroes in Japan?"

"The very same! It sounds like he's got a villain problem and he needs our help."

"Well then, this looks like a job for Sam & Max, freelance police!" Sam paused, scratching his neck. "Say, weren't we banned from Japan the last time we were there?"

"He told me he got the ban lifted for this exact reason. Do you know what that means?"

"We can finally be reunited with our incredibly large and hyper-destructive super robot Mega-Max 3000?"

"Well that, and we'll finally be able to visit Mount Fuji without fear of a class action lawsuit!"

"Inconceivable!" Sam cheered. "Fire up the desoto, grab the passports and pack those humorously oversized luggage bags. The Freelance Police are headed to the land of the rising sun to do in a dastardly villain and enjoy the rich tradition steeped culture of Japan!"

"I'll make sure to pack the Glen Campbell album and the mayonnaise jar full of live octopi!" said Max, giddy as can be.

"Heh heh, you crack me up, little buddy." Sam chuckled.

And with that Japan had made the biggest mistake since delinquent culture, the boom of the isekai genre and the attack on Pearl Harbor. Can the land of the rising sun survive another encounter with the hair trigger hare and the dashing doggy detective? Stay tune and find out folks because Sam & Max, Freelance Police, are on the case!

A/N: Hello, I hope you enjoyed this crazy idea I had while towing pizzas around town.