D.I.Why Not?
"Are you sure about this, man?" Bozer asks hesitantly, eyeing the remote in Mac's hand with more than a little trepidation.
"I'm about 78% sure that this will work," Mac replies with a grin. "Which is pretty good for me."
"We know that, brother, but this is a pretty risky maneuver." Jack comments. "If this goes wrong, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do."
"And the fallout will be massive," Bozer adds.
"I'm glad you have so much trust in my skills," Mac says, circling the red button on the remote with his thumb. "Trust me, guys, this will work."
"And if it doesn't?" Bozer asks.
"It will work." Mac insists, pressing the button before either of his friends can change his mind.
The TV in the living room switches on, displaying the static channel Mac set it to two hours ago when his latest half-baked idea started to take shape in his mind. The photoreceptor pointed at the screen—which Mac created out of an old ham radio, a broken solar yard light, and various other odds and ends that were scattered around his bedroom—activates, sending a current through a wire and into a repurposed potato clock that starts counting down from 00:15. When the timer hits zero, the potato explodes—this wouldn't be a true MacGyver creation if something didn't explode—and knocks a marble into a chute. The marble rolls through a series of tubes across the room, landing in a small basket made out of a paper bowl and sinking to the ground, which lifts a thumbtack until it hits and pops a balloon. The expanding air from the balloon spins a pinwheel, which knocks another marble into a button on a different remote, which turns on a machine Mac put together on the deck last week.
"What the hell?!" Riley exclaims from outside as the skies seemingly open above her head, drenching her—and the entire deck—in water. Mac quickly grabs the marble and pushes the button again to turn off the machine.
"You're in trouble now, brother," Jack says in a tone that's half-teasing, half-sympathetic. Mac bites his lip, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Riley storms inside, water dripping from her hair and her clothes—and her laptop.
"Oh, crap." Bozer squeaks, taking a few steps back. Jack follows suit, leaving Mac alone in the center of the room to be scolded by a very irritated Riley.
"Mac, what did you do?" Riley asks, holding up the laptop.
"I can, uh, I can fix that," Mac says.
"What. Did. You. Do?" Riley repeats slowly.
"I built a rain machine last week and decided to make a Rube Goldberg machine to test it out," Mac says. "The Rube Goldberg machine worked great, but my rain machine must have malfunctioned."
"You think?" Riley asks rhetorically. "That wasn't rain, that was a hurricane."
"Uh... yeah," Mac replies, ducking his head. Riley sighs, setting her laptop down on the bar in the kitchen.
"Fix my laptop, and all is forgiven," Riley says. Mac nods quickly, heading into the kitchen and opening a few cabinets to gather the supplies he'll need to repair the computer. Riley turns her attention to Bozer and Jack, staring them both down with one hand on her hip.
"We're gonna go... mop up the deck. Yeah, mop the deck." Bozer says hurriedly, practically sprinting out the door with Jack on his heels. Mac grabs a butter knife out of the silverware drawer and sets it down beside Riley's laptop, glancing up to find her standing in front of him, her arms crossed.
"So, how do you turn that rain machine of yours on?" She asks nonchalantly, and a grin stretches across Mac's face.
"That red button right there." Mac points to the remote for the rain machine, and Riley sends him a conspiratorial wink before pushing the button and activating Mac's faulty creation once again.
"Hey!"
"Agh!"
As Bozer and Jack—now both looking and smelling a lot more like wet dogs—storm back into the house, Mac and Riley burst into laughter.
When Matty enters Mac's house, she finds Bozer and Jack soaked to the bone and sulking and Riley—who is also soaked—and Mac laughing their asses off in the kitchen. Matty just smiles, shaking her head and heading to the living room, where she turns off the TV that's on a static channel for reasons unbeknownst to her.
This is probably the weirdest group of people Matty has ever met.
But she wouldn't trade them for anything.