An Adventure in the World of WTF

OK, so I honestly have no idea what this story is about, let alone named, so let’s just say the title of this blog post is the working title. Also, sorry this is so long. But to be fair, if you’ve read anything of mine before, you should have expected it to be that way. If you’re new to my blog, Welcome! This is going to be the weirdest shit that you’ve ever experienced. Enjoy.

~~~

I sat down on the toilet and commenced my daily routine of relieving myself of bodily waste. Just as I finished releasing the first fudge basilisk into the icy toilet water, I felt a sudden, sharp pain inside my ass.

“Fucking Arby’s” I grumbled as I strained to release whatever diabolical creation their food formed inside my digestive tract.

My butthole released a small fart, and then my whole body started shaking. And I don’t mean that I began to convulse or that my hands became unsteady, I mean every inch of my body began to vibrate. From somewhere inside my gut, a 40 foot long steel girder shook me from the inside out. The girder rocketed out of my asshole and into the toilet, the force of which sent me flying off of the seat and into the corner of the wall and the ceiling.

Somehow, I managed to slide down the wall with my face until it was wedged in the corner of the floor and wall, and my ass in the air.

I turned my head as best I could, and found that it wasn’t a steel girder erupting from my butt, it was a rainbow.

“Nope,” I grunted, “this isn’t from Arby’s. This is definitely Chic-Fil-A’s doing.”

If Chic-Fil-A isn't ruining your heart, it's making you shoot rainbows out of your ass.

If Chic-Fil-A isn’t ruining your heart, it’s making you shoot rainbows out of your ass.

The colors of the shit rainbow pooled at the ceiling, each growing denser and denser, until the pressure from the light blasted the entire roof off of my house. Once the shit rainbow had finished erupting out of my asshole, and I realized that I was not only alive, but feeling better, I climbed out from under the rainbow. The arch stretched up into the blue sky and vanished around the top. All along the rainbow were smatterings of my shit. I stared up, both dumbfounded and agast at what my butthole had produced and what that creation had done to my house. Then, at the top of the rainbow, a glimmering, white object appeared and ran down the leg. It was a horse. As it got closer and I could see it in better detail, I saw a single horn on its head and its tail and main colored like a rainbow. It was a unicorn.

“What the fuck?”

“Hey, dawg,” The unicorn said do me once it reached my bathroom, “Yo, listen, my name is Loquacious, an’ I need you to climb up on my back and come with me.”

“What the fuck?!” I repeated

“Listen fool!” The magical horse screamed at me, “Ya’ll need to listen to me and listen good, ya herr? Ya’ll need to come wit me back to my world. We got a job that only you can help us wit.”

With my pants still around my ankles, I replied in an even tone, “I would love to travel up the rainbow that just shot from my ass, but I have some shit I have to deal with right now.” Then, pointing to the toilet and where my roof used to be, I added, “both literal and figurative.”

“We ain’t got time for that, bitch, we gots to go now!”

“Holy shit, what did you just sa-AAHHH!” I began before the Unicorn scooped me up with is head (my buttcheeks being cradled by his horn) and threw me onto his back.

He sprinted  back up the rainbow as I held on to his body and screamed in fear. The unicorn bounded up the arch, dodging my shit clumps all the while with graceful leaps. Within seconds, we were hundreds of feet above my neighborhood, coming up to the curve of the rainbow. Then, I remembered about how the rainbow ended.

I stopped screaming, and asked Loquacious, “What happens at the end of the rainbow?”

“We jump!” He replied merrily. Then in a firm tone he added, “But you gotta think happy thoughts or we’ll just fall back to your world.”

“How the Hell am I supposed to think happy thoughts with this shit happening?!”

“I dunno, dawg. Focus or some shit.”

We crested the curve. The end of the rainbow was only a football field or so away. Fuck. I closed my eyes and concentrated. Think happy thoughts. I told myself. What are the things that make me happy? Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes- Gah! Fuck Julie Andrews!

"Do you see? Do you see all the fucks I give about your opinion of me?" -Julie Andrews

“Do you see? Do you see all the fucks I give about your opinion of me?”
-Julie Andrews

I could feel Loquacious’s body tense up, and then feel my own go weightless. Stupidly, I opened my eyes for long enough to see the pimple sized houses of my neighborhood scroll beneath us.

“FUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!” I screamed before clamping my eyes shut again.

I was weightless for only a moment or two, but for those brief moments I wondered what poor life decisions I made that lead me to this moment.  Was this karmic justice for all the shitty things I’ve put my friends through? Did I just take a Mexican Cartel’s worth of drugs? Was God just being kind of a dick today? I decided it was probably the last one.

We hit the ground-actually, no, we didn’t hit the ground. We landed lightly on what I guessed by the sound was a soft patch of grass. I kept my eyes closed and my body wrapped tightly around the horse.

“Yo, get off me fool. We’re here.” Loquacious stated.

I opened my eyes and they were immediately assaulted with vibrant color. I threw up right on the patch of technicolor green grass. To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether it was the near death experience or the color that caused me vomiting, but either way I hoped that my vomit would create a dragon or some other weird shit that would take me back home. No such luck.

“Damn, dawg, you nasty,” the unicorn laughed.

“Where the hell are we?” I asked after I spit the last bit of vomit and saliva from my mouth.

“I told you, son, we’re in my world now.”

“But How? I didn’t think a single happy thought.”

The stupid unicorn erupted with stupid, hysterical laughter, “Sheeit, I didn’t think you’d believe me! Dawg, I was fuckin’ wit choo! I don’t need no happy thoughts to cross dimensions. What do I look like, that Peter Pan faggot?”

“OK, listen up you magical bucket of glue and Canadian steaks, if you-“

I was interrupted by a joyous hum and the pattering of little feet from behind me. I turned and found myself being surrounded by dozens of small animals. There was a turtle whose shell was covered in multicolored flowers, tiger and leopard cubs, several white baby seals, two green aliens driving a hippy VW bug convertible, and several puppies and kittens. Every single animal had big, unnaturally colored eyes, and a happy smile on their face. Shining down from the sky above us was a giant yellow face. It smiled at me. The sun smiled at me. Already fuck this place.

Lisa Frank- Aliens

Lisa Frank- Turtle

Lisa Frank-Cat-Dog

Seriously. Fuck this place.

“You brought him!” a bright yellow golden retriever puppy squeaked, “I cannot believe he’s here at last!”

From the back of the group, a creature was forcing its way towards Loquacious and me, while demanding to other animals, “Step aside please. Yes you too. Can’t you see the mayor coming through?”

The crowd parted, and a penguin wearing a blue bow tie waddled towards us.

Lisa Frank-Penguin

“Good Gracious, Loquacious, How’d you get so bodacious?!” The penguin cried as it waddled past me and up to the unicorn.

The unicorn held out its hoof, and the penguin slapped it with his wing. They then began to excitedly whisper to one another while glancing towards me. I took this time to pull my pants back up. As I did, I looked around to the various animals in the crowd, and each of them had their eyes fixed upon me. They watched every move I made with awe and excitement. Buckling my belt received a collective “ooh” from the crowd, while flipping them off had them react in unison with “Ah!”

“So why the hell am I here?” I yelled at the penguin, getting tired of being the brightly colored animals’ side show attraction.

The penguin turned to me and replied with a bow, “I, Mayor Ed Quinn the Penguin, would like to formally welcome you, for this is our magical land of the rainbow hue!”

“I shit myself to death, and I’m currently in Hell, aren’t I?”

“Oh no!” Ed Quinn the Penguin shouted, “I don’t know of this place you call ‘Hell’, but we call this place Puffoots upon Atell!”

“Really, I retorted, “Because it looks like I got sucked into a Lisa Frank notebook cover.”

“Lisa Frank is a cunt!” a magenta kitten shouted from the crowd.

“Wait,” I replied skeptically, “You have no idea what Hell is, but you know enough about Lisa Frank to hate her?”

“Yo dawg, She is the one of the only other humans that’s come here,” Loquacious explained, “And dat bitch used her visit here to make her millions, witout givin’ us shit for using our likenesses.”

“So is that why I’m here?”

“Of course not, my human tot,” Ed Quinn the penguin answered, “For you, I have the most important of tasks. I want you to hunt for the 7 Crystaline-“

“Gigglebugs!” a voice cried from just  over a nearby hill. Seconds later, the owner of the voice, a purple husky puppy riding on the back of a polar bear, crested the top of the hill. It screamed again, “Gigglebugs! They’ve breached the Sunshiny Wall!”

Panic and chaos followed the announcement. Screams erupted from the crowd of animals as they ran different directions, stumbling over each other in blind fear. The polar bear mounted husky rode down to where I, Loquacious, and Ed Quinn the Penguin stood. The Polar bear was out of breath, and both had traumatized looks on their faces. Behind them, a golden cloud rose above the hill. As I looked closer, I realized that it wasn’t a cloud, it was a swarm- a swarm of golden beetles the size of teacups.

The swarm arched up high in the air, catching the attention of the panicking animals, and descended upon them. They gathered on the turtle first, which began to laugh hysterically and writhe (as much as a turtle can, anyway) on the ground.  The turtle continued to laugh as the bugs ripped the skin off of its legs and face and into its muscles and organs, until only the shell and the bones were left. It only took twenty seconds at the longest. I didn’t think to time it.

“Jesus Hamster chucking Christ!”

“Snow puff and Frosty paws, we  have no time for you to pause,” Ed Quinn commanded, to the polar bear and husky puppy, “Take as many of our towns people as you can find and hide them in the glitter mines.”  He then turned to Loquacious and added, “Take the human and flee. Head to the tie-dye mountains, just past the Friendship Tree!”

Pictured: The Rainbow Mountains, right past the Friendship Tree

Pictured: The Rainbow Mountains, right past the Friendship Tree

“Wait,” I cried as the penguin mayor waddled away, “What am I doing here? What do you want me hunt for?”

Ed Quinn turned around to answer me, but as he did, the golden cloud of giggle bugs landed on him. He collapsed into a laughing pile on the vibrant green grass and batted at the insects as they ripped the flesh off of his body in tiny strips. The penguin writhed and laughed as the bugs tore down to the bone. He only stopped when the gigglebugs chewed into his throat. The golden insects reached his sternum, and his organs began to spill out of the newly formed hole. Holy shit did that drive the gigglebugs into a frenzy.

Screaming, I jumped onto the back of Loquacious. Just as he was turning to sprint as far away from the nightmare that had just unfolded in the meadow, I felt several sharp stabs in my legs.

“Argh, fuck knuckles!” I screamed, “I’m bit!”

“Shit dawg!” Loquacious cried, “What should I do?”

“FUCKING RUN, ASSHOLE!”

He sprinted, and I took one last look back at the gore behind us. Ed Quinn the Penguin had stopped moving. I sighed. I never got an answer to my questions. I felt another sharp pain form in my leg, just above the knee this time. Wait, I thought, Why aren’t I laughing? I looked down to find the magenta cat, the one that called Lisa Frank a cunt, clinging to my pant leg, and incidentally, me. I grumbled, grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, and pulled it off of my leg. He squirmed in my had, clawing at my wrist and throwing out a torrent of curse words at me, each offensive phrase more colorful and offensive to the senses than the surrounding landscape.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked the cat.

“To not fucking die, dipshit,” The cat retorted.

“Well, then stop being an asshole, and I won’t throw you back to the gigglebugs.”

The cat’s adorable eyes grew wider, and it replied, “I’ll be good.”

“Good,” I answered as I plopped it down on in front of me on Loquacious’s back.

“Aieee! Dawg! Get the giggle bugs off my back, yo!” Loquacious cried as he began try to buck the cat and I off.

I wrapped my arms around the unicorn’s neck and screamed, “It’s a cat, it’s a cat!” He either didn’t believe me or didn’t hear me, because he continued to try and buck us off. His spine crushing my dick and balls with every kick and junp.

“It’s Honeypuss, you fucking idiot,” the magenta cat yelled over Loquacious’s whinnying, “Stop trying to kill me and the human.”

Loquacious heard this and stopped. I fell off of his back and curled into the fetal position on the ground, cradling my balls.

“Good going cock nugget,” the kitten snapped at the unicorn, “You ruined the human’s brain.”

The unicorn turned around and put his face close to mine. His breath was sweet, as if every single one of his meals consisted of brown sugar and carrots. “Shit, dawg, sorry for crushing your brain, yo.”

“Human,” Honeypuss added, “I bet you’re really fucking concussed right now, but we need to get moving. Those goddamn bugs will chase us for miles, and we didn’t make it that far.” The kitten then muttered to the Unicorn, “At least everyone else got to go to the glitter mines. But we’re fucking stuck with this douche as he wimpers about how much his head hurts and how he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.”

“First of all, fuck you, cat,” I grunted as I slowly climbed to my feet, still holding my junk.  Then, I continued, “Secondly, I’m more than happy to go back home and leave you rainbow colored animals to whatever happens if I don’t do what it is I am supposed to do. I have absolutely no stake in any of your survival. And Thirdly, my brain is in my head, Loquacious hurt my dick and balls.”

“Your brain is in your head?” Honeypuss asked, “That’s weird as shit that doesn’t smell like flowers.”

“So, shit?”

“Your shit,” the kitten clarified. “Anyway,” he continued, None of us have that junk you have in between your legs, we all just assumed that’s where you humans keep your brains.”

I stopped and couldn’t help myself from studying their crotches. Nope. Nothing. There was absolutely no genitalia.

“How do you guys reproduce if you don’t have genitals?”

The unicorn and kitten gave me a weird look, “Reproduce?”

I sighed, and for the next hour or so, I walked beside Loquacious and Honeypuss and described (in detail) what reproduction meant. They listened with a glint of excitement in their big, colorful eyes as I discussed what sex was. They urged me to give them more and more information. I covered positions, and oral, and anal, and assholes, and the female and male G-spots, and boobs and fetishes and porn and masturbation and orgies and everything else on the topic I could think of until, finally, I said all that I could say on the topic.

“That sounds like the coolest shit ever, homie!” Loquacious exclaimed.”

“Fuck. Yes.” Honeypuss added, “Too bad we can’t do that stuff. We don’t even know where our young come from. We’ll have to ask Dr.McRibbit when we get back.”

I'm a Frog, but also a doctor, but also uncomfortably sexual.

I’m a Frog, but also a doctor, but also uncomfortably sexual.

“If he’s still alive, Sheeit, he could’ve gotten eaten fo’ all we know!” Loquacious replied.

“Fuck. You’re right. If he hadn’t gotten the shit eaten out of him by those bugs, we’ll ask him.”

“Ok, now I have a question,” I interjected, “How in the Hell did you animals think a wall was going to keep out bugs that can fly?”

“Huh?” the unicorn and kitten answered in unison.

“The Sunshiny Wall. The husky puppy said that those bugs breached the sunshiny wall. But the bugs can fly, so why even use a wall as a defense?”

“Because it’s not the fucking wall, but what’s covering it that makes it our most important goddamn defense.”

“What’s covering it?”

“Glitter. Those fucking giggle bugs fucking hate anything sparkly. They won’t pass it when the sun shines on it. That’s why Ed Quinn had everyone flee to the glitter mines. That’s the only place that’s safe if the glitter on the sunshiny wall fails to keep them back. But one gust of wind usually blows an gap in the glitter for the gigglebugs to pass through.”

“Why not just glue the glitter onto the wall, or your houses, or the roads in your town for that matter?” I asked.

“Using what? Our piss?” Honeypuss retorted.

“Well,” I started, nodding at Loquacious, who wasn’t looking at me.

Loquacious noticed the silence, looked back to find me nodding at him, and said “Nah, fuck dat, man. Ain’t no one making me into glue.”

We walked in silence for a little while after that- Then because, I assume, they were wondering if there were any survivors, me because I didn’t want to talk to either of them. After some time, the giant yellow sun, whose stupid fucking face was still shining down on us, had begun to set on the horizon. Periodically, it would yawn. I wanted to punch it in its stupid mouth.

I was about to vocalize my desire to beat the shit out of their son of a bitch sun, when Loquacios cried with joy, “We’re almost there, dawgs! Dat’s da Friendship tree up ahead!”

I looked. Not that far ahead of us was a lone tree. Its leaves were a deep green, and it was spotted with fruit of different colors. The tree itself swayed and bobbed up and down, as if it were dancing in place to a song I couldn’t hear. Beneath it was a still pool of blue water that reflected the tree and sky like glass. I licked my lips. After everything that happened over the past few hours, I didn’t have time to think about how long it had been since I had eaten or drank anything. But now the thirst and hunger came pounding on my stomach.

Smiling tree

“Hey, do you mind if we stop at the tree. I’m kind of hungry and thirsty.”

Loquacious and Honeypuss looked at one another and then to me. “You don’t want to eat and drink there, dawg. You won’t like dat tree.”

“I only have to tolerate it long enough to get some water and some of its fruit,” I replied, “Then it can eat a dick, for all I care.”

I ran ahead of the protesting unicorn and kitten, and, begrudgingly, they followed.

“But that’s the fucking Friendship Tree!” Honeypuss cried.

“So it should be friendly enough to let me eat and drink, so no problem!” I yelled back.

As I got close enough, I noticed that the tree was dancing to a song, but that the song was one it was singing to itself. I walked up to it. It continued to sing and bob around without noticing me.

“Hello?” I called up to it.

“I love my friends/ I love all I see/ I share my love/ I’m the friendship tree!” The tree sang to itself  in a deep voice.

“Hey, Tree!” I yelled.

Startled, the tree looked around before spotting me. “Why hello little fella!” the tree exclaimed, “Are you my new friend?”

“Sure, whatever,” I said, “Can I take a drink from your pool and eat some of your fruit?”

The tree reached out one of its branches, wrapped it gently around me, and lifted me into the air. The tree was almost all face. It’s big eyes and mouth were made up of the arrangement of the branches, twigs, and leaves. Those branches and twigs shifted as the eyes and mouth moved, creating a low creaking sound that was only partially masked by its voice. As the tree lifted me up so that I was face-to- giant face with it, another branch stretched out and patted me on my head.

“What did you want again?” The tree asked as its branch caressed my cheek.

I batted it away and repeated, “Can I take a drink from your pool and eat some of your fruit?”

The tree smiled a wide, gleeful smile, “Why of course new friend! I love doing favors for friends! But can you do me a favor too?”

I sighed, brushed the branch away from my face again, and grunted the question, “What favor do you want?”

The tree didn’t answer, unless you call tightening its grip on me and feeling me up with its branches an answer. Which I guess in this case you could, I guess. The tree licked its leafy lips with its wooden tongue as it felt me up, more aggressively with each touch.

“Uh, guys?” I called back to Loquacious and Honeypuss, “A little help?!”

“Sorry, dawg,” Loquacious called from what sounded to be far away from the tree, “We ain’t comin’ a hoof closer to that tree.”

“What does it want to do?!” I cried.

The Friendship Tree wrapped its branches around my ankles and spread my legs apart. Then, I felt a branch slither up my pants. I struggled. The tree tightened its grip on me.

“Guys! do something!” I screamed. I thrashed, but that only seemed to make the Friendship Tree more aroused.

“What in the high flying fuck do you want us to do?” Honeypuss called back, clearly enjoying watching me suffer.

I bit down on a branch that tried to enter my mouth and screamed back, “I dunno! Loquacious, you have some kind of rainbow power don’t you? Use that!”

“I can’t do dat, homie” Loquacious answered.

“JUST FUCKING TRY SOMETHING!”

“Oh, I’m about to, new friend!” The Friendship Tree replied. Then, after a pause, it added, “You did say ‘try fucking’ right?”

“Shit.”

Just then, a bright beam of light shot under me and hit the pool of water. It reflected off of the pool, and then the rainbow colored beam hit the trunk of the Friendship Tree, causing it to burst into flames. The tree wailed and thrashed, throwing me back down to the soft grass as it tried to extinguish the multicolored flames that had spread across its body. I stumbled, crawled, and then ran back to Loquacious and Honeypuss. From behind me I heard a loud splash of water, followed by a pained groan.

Try not to be weirded out by The Giving Tree after reading that.

Go ahead and try not to be weirded out by The Giving Tree after reading that.

“Ho-lee sheeit! I can shoot rainbows out of my mouth! Dis is da best day ever, yo!”

“Come back, friend!” The Friendship tree called weakly.

“Go fuck yourself,” I replied between deep breaths, “And I mean that literally.” I turned back to Loquacious and Honeypuss, both of whom were smiling faux innocent smiles at me. I screamed, “WHY IN THIS TECHICOLORED WORLD OF FUCKS WOULD YOU NOT WARN ME THAT THAT TREE RAPES WHOEVER GETS TOO CLOSE!?”

“Well, we never had a word for what it does until know,” Honeypuss answered flatly.

“So why do you call it the ‘Friendship Tree’ and not the ‘Stay Away Tree?’”

“Because everyone just fucking knows to stay away from the tree. We only use it as a land mark because everyone knows what and where the Friendship Tree is, and we all know to keep a safe distance away from it. You’re the dumbass who didn’t listen to us.”

“But on the bright side, dawg,” Loquacious added, “You just gave us its new name, the “Rape Tree.”

“Eh,” Honeypuss replied, “I think Friendship Tree has a better ring to it.” Then to me, he added, “Now if you’re done letting yourself get raped, we have to get you to the Tye-Dye Mountains. It’s going to be fucking night soon.”

Clenching my fists, I seethed, “I hate literally everything in this stupid world.”

Neither the unicorn, nor the kitten paid attention to me, and the three of us walked on, ignoring the calls from the Friendship Tree for me to return to it.

At some point, maybe an hour or so after the Friendship Tree incident, as I was walking far ahead of the unicorn and kitten, Honeypuss asked, “So, are we just going to ignore the fact that you had Loquacious shoot a rainbow laser out of his mouth, even though he’s never been fucking able to do that shit before?”

I didn’t answer.

“I guess not.” Honeypuss mumbled to Loquacious.

As we walked on, day melted into night, and the grinning sun gave way to a smattering of giant, neon stars and planets across the night sky, which kept the world about as lit as before, but with a more “Christmas Lights on an explosive amount of steroids” feel to it.  Loquacious was telling some story about how he befriended some woman that lives in a bubble and her green lesbian lover during one of his many travels to different worlds. Honeypuss and I listened as we both searched the horizon for anything that looked like the Tie-Dye Mountains. Other than three small objects ahead of us, there was nothing but the green grass plane all around us for miles.

Bump.

“Did you hear that,” Loquacious asked as panic crept into his voice.

Bump.

“Hear what?” I asked.

Bump.

“That.” Honeypuss replied, “What the fuck is that?”

Bump.

“Aw fuck nah, man, fuck nah,” Loquacious groaned as he darted around me, looking off in the distance. “We need to find someplace to hide, now.”

“Why?”

Bump.

“Teddy Bear Vikings!”

Teddy Bear Vikings are almost as bad as Hip Hop Teddy bears.

Teddy Bear Vikings are almost as bad as Hip Hop Teddy bears.

“Fuck nuggets!” Honeypuss replied, “Those things on the fucking horizon are their land ships, and they’re headed right fucking for us!”

Bump.

“We need to hide, dawgs. We def don’t wanna have a run in with them.”

“Well, where are we going to hide?  There is nothing around us. Not even a rock to lie behind,” I noted.

The next bump was noticeably louder, and the ships had covered half the distance to us since we first spotted them.

“Shit.” Honeypuss added, “The Human is right. There’s no escape from them now.”

“Escape from what?” A gruff voice asked from behind and above us.

We turned. Behind us towered a Viking ship, specifically, the Viking ship that would be the death of us. Emblazoned in gold on the blood red flag was  bear paw. Along either side were a set of paddles equipped with boots to push the boat forward, and a series of shields with a teddy bear’s face painted on them. Each plank of wood that made up the hull was of a different color, which I couldn’t help but notice that the ship would just as equally be at home in a gay pride parade as it would here. From the deck above jumped the captain Teddy bear, whose body squeeked when he landed on the grass.

He was about my height, but his horned helmet and thick boots made him look much taller. Over what would probably be an adorable teddybear face was a long dirty beard that hung down to his stomach. He carried an axe at his side, its blades were chipped and dulled from years of conquering, plundering, and murdering.

“What are you three doing out so late?”

None of us answered. The three ships from the horizon were upon us now, effectively surrounding us.

“Come on now.” He added as he walked back and forth in front of us, “Tell me, what are you three doing out here. It’s not safe to wander out on the Happyness Meadow at night. You could get killed by what lives out here. Or worse…”

“Yeah, we know,” Honeypuss answered. He nodded towards me and added, “We had to rescue this dipshit from the Friendship Tree.”

The Teddy Bear Viking Captain, as well as many of his crew, laughed hearty laughs at my expence. “Human, eh? Your kind is rare in this land. Demanding a ransom for you will feed my clan for years!”

I laughed a nervous laugh and explained, “Guys, don’t listen to the Unicorn and the cat, I’m not human! I only look like I’m human. I’m actually just a boring old, uh, xenomorph?” Shit. Hopefully they don’t know what that is. “Yep. Xenomorph. I’m totally one of those. We’re very common and not worth kidnapping.”

Xenomorphs are surprisingly common in the Lisa Frank Universe.

Xenomorphs are surprisingly common in the Lisa Frank Universe.

The Teddy Bear Vikings moaned in disappointment. Holding up his paw to silence them, their leader replied, “That’s too bad, xenomorph. You would have been a great hostage. But I guess we’ll have to kill you and your friends instead.” He drew his sword, and his fellow Teddy Bear Vikings jumped down from the ships, each one squeaking on their landing.

I held my hand up in front of them, took a step back towards Loquacious and Honeypuss, and yelled, “You don’t want to kill me! As a xenomorph, my blood is actually a highly corrosive acid. Killing me could potentially kill you all as well. Also…” I grabbed Honeypuss by the scruff of her neck.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!” Honeypuss thrashed.

“This!” I chucked Honeypuss at the Viking leader’s face. Instinctively, Honeypuss latched on, and dug her claws deep into his face.

The Teddy Bear Viking roared in pain and slashed blindly at the air with his sword, slicing the throat of one of his fellow Vikings. White stuffing poured from the ghastly wound, the bear held his paws up to the wound, but it didn’t help. The bear was completely deflated in less than a minute. I jumped onto the back of Loquacious as the rest of the Vikings tried to get the magenta kitten off their leader’s face. One of the Vikings prepared to stab Honeypuss with is sword.

“Honeypuss,” I cried, “Jump here!”

Honeypuss launched herself at me with a “You lousy, pale skinned, motherfucker!” and dug her claws deep into my chest. Just in time, too, because the Teddy Bear Viking drove his sword at where Honeypuss was and ended up stabbing his captain in the face. The Teddy Bear Viking Captain screamed and ran in circles with the sword sticking halfway out of his face, and Honeypuss began to alternate swearing at me with biting my neck.

“Loquacious,” I screamed, “Get us out of here!”

“Straight up, dawg!” Loquacious lowered his head, began to shake, and then vomited a blinding rainbow laser at the teddy bears. The bears dove out of the line of light at the last second, so the beam torched a long hole in the hull of the ship in front of us. The wood moaned, and then began to collapse down on us.

The leader of the teddy bears saw this and gasped, “He’s the chosen one! MEN, QUICK, KILL THE CHOSEN ONE!”

“TAKE US OUT OF THIS WORLD, NOW, LOQUACIOUS!” I roared.

“Gotcha.” The unicorn charged forward, blasting through the crumbling Viking ship, and below us a rainbow road formed. Loquacious kept gaining speed until we were far enough away from the Teddy Bear Vikings. Up ahead, I could see the rainbow coming to an end. Loquacious was still speeding up. The three of us screamed. We reached the end of the road, and we vanished.

~~~

To Be Continued…

…I’m not sure when, but eventually…

Peace

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Fighting a Hoard of Gypsies With Zac Efron

This is a sequel to an earlier post. You might want to read that first.

If not, then enjoy!

***

Minigan sat in the open field, staring up at the overcast sky, and then to the jar in his hands. The jar, which appeared to house some kind of large insect, glinted in the late morning sun as Minigan rolled it in his hands.

“How do I get you back up there?” Minigan asked himself more than the insect.

“Dude,” Zac Efron interjected, sitting up from where he was laying, “Maybe we use a slingshot!”

“We’ll never be able to achieve escape velocity with a sling shot, Zaccy Effs. We’ll need a rocket. But even then we need to get it to the sun.”

“You could just let me free,” The insect squeeked.

“No can do, Kinish Asia,” Minigan replied, “All you’ll do is bring about the end of days on Earth. I cannot have you do that. I think it’s best if we launch you into the sun.”

“But that will kill me! And my name is ‘Kinich Ahau!’”

Zac and Minigan replied with disinterested, “meh’s” and continued with their activities: Zac lying down and tossing a ball into the air, and Minigan mindlessly spinning the jar, making the Mayan Sun God tumble around in his glass prison. Kinich Ahau roared (which sounded as if a chipmunk was trying to imitate a panther) and blasted fire at the glass.  Casually, as if he had to do this on an hourly basis, Minigan jostled the jar and sent Kinich bouncing back and forth.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Minigan said into the airholes of the jar, “I made sure that the jar and its lid are impervious to flame. And don’t bother trying to heat up the glass to make everything on the outside of it burn: I already thought of that and saw to it that the glass insulates the heat from escaping.”

“What kind of god are you, Minigan?” The Mayan diety asked.

“I wouldn’t call myself a god,” Minigan said, blushing, “A demigod, probably, but not a god- god.”

Zac sat up and whined, “How much more time is left, bro? This is boring.”

“It should be done any minute,” Minigan replied as he leaned over to check the time on the old Easy Bake oven, which continued to putter away at its task.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman step off the gravel parking lot and head directly for them in the field. Minigan looked towards her and immediately recognized her. She was tall, very pregnant, and wore a bandana around her head. It was Della.

“Minigan,” she shouted to the men sitting in the grass.

“I’m sorry, but Minigan isn’t home right now” Minigan answered in a telephone operator’s voice, “Please leave a message along with the date that you called and he will get back to you.”

Della stopped, her expression changed from one of determination to the one a person makes when they leave a message on voicemail (You know, eyebrows raised, nostrils flared. Think about it next time you leave one). Della replied, “OK, Well tell Minigan that I need to speak to him about his birthday present for me, and that he needs to get a hold of me. Or he could just talk to me now since I’m staring at him right now, and I’m not an idiot.”

“Damn,” Minigan whispered to Zac, “I almost thought that worked.”

“Me too bro!”

“Minigan!”

“Hi Della! What have you been up to lately, other than being knocked up? When did that happen?”

“Cut the shit, Minigan,” Della snapped, “You’ve been dodging me all summer, but now it’s time. You need to do something to fix the damage you’ve done on my birthday.”

“But that wasn’t even your birthday!” Minigan cried, jumping to his feet, “And besides, how is it my fault that the gypsy that I had enslaved to make your cake cursed it so that it would unleash snakes and a shit monster inside your house?”

“Do you even listen to yourself talk?” Della asked.

“Shit, dude, did that really happen?” Zac asked as he sat up.

Della did a double take at the actor whom she just realized she was in the presence of, and then asked “And why the hell are you and Zac Efron sitting in the middle of a field with an Easy Bake Oven, a bookbag, and a jar with a huge bug in it?” She gasped, “You didn’t kidnap Zac Efron, did you?”

“Not this time,” Zac replied as he cast a glare Minigan’s direction.

“Nope,” Minigan added, “Zaccy Effs is here because of his own poor decision making abilities.”

“OK,” Della replied, “But that still doesn’t answer the ‘Why.’”

Minigan picked up the jar with Kinich Ahau in it and tossed it to Della. Inside the jar, Kinich screamed a tiny scream as he flew through the air.  When Della caught the jar, he fell into a pile of himself on the bottom. Della looked inside curiously as the Mayan god of the Sun returned to his feet, brushed himself off, and then began punching the glass with his bare hands. Each hit bouncing off the glass with a light “clink” that just barely escaped the airholes.

Before Della had a chance to ask, Minigan stated, “That is the Mayan god of the Sun Kinish Asia-“

“Kinich Ahau!” the little imprisoned man interjected.

“And last year, he tried to bring about the end of the world. Zac and I stopped him, and now we’re trying to figure out how to get him back to the sun.”

“Why’s he so small?” Della queried.

“We had to keep him somewhere,” Zac added, “If he touches the ground, the world will end. So Minigan decided to shrink him down and put him in a jar until we could get him back to the sun.”

“Ok,” Della replied, uncertain, still staring at the captured Mayan diety, “So you two were sitting out here because?”

Minigan replied, “Because NASA won’t let us borrow one of their rockets so that we can blast a jar into the sun-“

“Obviously.”

“The selfish Jerks,” Zac interjected.

“Yes,” Della retorted snarkily, “That is the problem.”

“So, I had to go about my normal methods,” Minigan continued, “By which I mean taking a drug that will let me warp reality to my will.”

Minigan ushered Della towards the Easy Bake Oven. He continued, “Cooking in the Easy Bake Oven right now is a drug I like to call Olivia Wilde. It’s a powerful hallucinogen that will send the user on very realistic trips.”

“I hate to break it to you, Minigan,” Della replied, “But that Easy Bake Oven isn’t cooking anything; the plug is stabbed into the ground.”

“It’s all in accordance to how you make Olivia Wilde, Della!” Minigan cried, “You must cook the specific ingredients in an Easy Bake Oven with its plug in the dirt, the morning before the First Quarter Moon.”

“Minigan was supposed to have a batch already done, but apparently he was ‘too busy’ to spend four hours in a clearing as he waited for the drug to cook last month, even though he promised to.”

“I had shit to do!” Minigan cried, “I’m sorry that my career hasn’t given me so much down time that I can waste a morning like you clearly can.”

“How will a hallucinogen help you warp reality, though?” Della asked.

Minigan answered, “By mixing it with this…”

Before Minigan continued, he began to rummage through his bookbag and pulled out two jars. The first was a glass masonry jar, similar to the one in which Kinich Ahau was imprisoned, but this one had a metallic coating on the bottom. The other was plastic with a blue lid, was filled with ice, and had a red and white object lodged in the center.

“Once the Olivia Wilde is complete, you mix one of these,” Minigan shook the plastic jar, “into the powder to create the drug that lets the user change any aspect of reality that he or she sees fit.”

He handed both jars to Zac, and began another search through his book bag. This time, his search yielded him a lighter, an unused red candle stick, a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid, and an eyedropper. Minigan  sat Indian style on the ground and had Zac place the two jars in front of him. Minigan then sat the candle stick and the eye dropper on his lap and arranged the vial and two jars in a line in front of him. He opened both jars, and pulled the red and white object out from the plastic one. The white of the object turned out to be a paper towel, and the red was the blood that seeped through. Della and Zac recoiled in disgust as Minigan unrolled the paper towel to reveal three severed fingers. With his thumb and index finger, Minigan gingerly picked up one of the fingers and dropped it into the metal lined jar, then rerolled the remaining two fingers and returned them to the ice filled jar.

Minigan raised the jar with the finger it to a grossed out Della and Zac, and stated, “This is one of Charlie Sheen’s fingers. If you remember his outbursts from 2011, you’ll remember all the crazy things he said about himself: that he is a warlock from mars, that he has tiger blood, that he himself is a drug. That last one is true. Sheen had done so much drugs during his life that he can now be classified as a narcotic. Of course, Charlie Sheen is dangerous by itself, which is why I always cut it with Olivia Wilde.”

“So, you’re telling me that that is one of three severed fingers of Charlie Sheen that you just have?” Della asked with a look of suspicion and disgust frozen upon her face.

“Damn Minigan,” Zac added, “That whole thing happened two and a half years ago. Those jokes are so tired, dude.”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH, YOU PERMINANT CASE OF BED HEAD MEGA-DOUCHE!!!!”

Zac Efron after being attacked by a colony of bats, probably.

Zac Efron after being attacked by a colony of bats, probably.

As if Zac had said nothing at all, Minigan continued, “Della, yes, those are Charlie Sheen’s actual fingers. He can regenerate them. He actually gave me three because he is getting tired of me bothering him all the time. Anyway, I first have to burn the finger down into ash before I can cut it with Olivia Wilde. That’s what this other stuff is for. I learned that if I light the finger in a silver lined jar, with a virgin candle made of beeswax, and then add a drop of Alaskan glacier water, the process takes a few seconds instead of a few hours. Watch.”

Minigan lit the candle, and then pressed the flame up against the finger. Once the flesh started to blacken, and the smell of burning meat crept out of the jar and into the air around them, Minigan pulled the candle out, took a drop of water from the vial, and dropped it onto the burning finger. Instantly, the finger burst into vibrant blue flames. It spun around madly in the jar, emitting a high pitched squeal as it did. The flames quickly engulfed the entire inside of the jar and were shooting out the top. It did this for a couple of seconds before an orange fireball erupted from the jar and straight up into the air. The fireball fanned out to form a tiger, and as it did, disembodied guitar riffs rang out from the jar itself. Just as quickly as the fire had begun, it was extinguished, leaving only the smoldering ashes behind.”

“What the hell was that?!” Della cried.

“The raddest fucking thing I’ve ever fucking seen, that’s what that was!” Zac answered. “Minigan, bro, do it again!”

“Sorry Zaccy Effs, but I need to keep the other two fresh until I need them.”

Della pinched the bridge of her nose, “So you’re going to cannibalize Charlie Sheen’s fingers after you mix it with whatever you’re not cooking in that Easy Bake Oven.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘cannibalizing.’ And I already told you, The Olivia Wilde is cooking.”

Della pulled the hair on the sides of her head, quickly losing patience with the situation, snapped, “No, Minigan. Nothing’s cooking. You have that damn toy plugged into the dir-“

The Easy Bake Oven’s timer went off with a “ping.” Zac cried excitedly and grabbed the oven by its sides. The hissing sound of searing flesh and the second degree burns that accompanied it transformed Zac’s excited cry into a pained wail.

Easy Bake Oven: burning stupid kids since 1965!

Easy Bake Oven: burning stupid kids since 1965!

“Damn it, Zac,” Minigan shouted as he slapped the back of the actor’s head so hard that it knocked the oven out of his hands, “How many times do I have to say it? Oven- Hot. Oven like fire. No touch.”

As Zac whimpered at his blistered hands, Minigan used the purple pusher/ spatula to retrieve the cake pan containing the drug. Della wasn’t sure what exactly she was expecting to see, but what came out what definitely not it. In the pan was a flat, homely, moldy green disk. It had a texture similar to old corks, and its scent was akin to warm compost. Minigan overturned the pan, and the disk plopped heavily into his hand. Despite the heat from the Easy Bake Oven, the disk was surprisingly cool to the touch, and Minigan was able to hold it in his bare hands without even a wince. Then, Minigan dropped the hideous green disk into a plastic bag. Minigan then snapped the disk in half, and both halves turned to a brilliant royal blue. He broke the pieces in half again, and the color shifted from blue to indigo. He split the four pieces in half again, and the crumbling chunks turned violet. From there, he crushed each piece into powder, and once all eight pieces were nothing but dust, the color changed one last time from violet to hot pink.

Minigan dumped the Charlie Sheen ash into the bag, gave it a light shake, and then announced, “Alright. It’s ready. Let’s launch this Mayan God into the Sun.”

“But what about fixing my house!” Della cried, “I’m going to have this baby soon, and I’d really appreciate it if my living room no longer had holes in the walls or stink like a sewer.”

“C’mon dude,” Zac requested, “We can send Kinish Asia-“

“Kinich Ahau!”

“into the sun after we fix that house. It won’t take that long; we can just montage it!”

“That’s not going to work,” Minigan replied, “We’re talking about powerful gypsy magic here.  That isn’t something our drugs can fix on their own. We’ll have to find the gypsy and ask him to change it back himself.”

“This is why you don’t enslave gypsies, Bro!” Zac scolded.

“You shouldn’t be enslaving anybody!” Della added. Then, remembering that nothing she could ever say would affect how Minigan acts, she asked, “Do you have any idea where the gypsy would’ve gone after he escaped your capture?”

Minigan pondered for a moment, and then answered, “Well, he was a Polish Gypsy, but he and his clan were nomadic, so I’d say somewhere in Eastern Europe.”

“Oh, well that narrows it down,” Della replied sarcastically, “If you would have said all of Europe, I would have been like, ‘Let’s just give up- that’s too much land to search.’ But since you said Eastern Europe, that’s much more doable for the three of us.”

“It will be once I take this,” Minigan  replied as she shook the drug filled bag in front of her.

“Why you?” Zac asked.

“Because I remember what happened last time I let you take the drugs without me.”

“Honestly, Minigan, I’d feel better about this whole thing if you weren’t the one with reality warping superpowers,” Della insisted, “Let Zac have it.”

“But… But…”

“Minigan,” Della begged, “I’m asking you as a- well- friend. Please let Zac have this.”

Minigan felt defeated, but he obliged. He shoved the bag into Zac’s chest, and Zac immediately started pouring the powder into his mouth. Almost immediately, Zac Efron’s eyes began to roll in opposite directions.

After a few seconds of doing this, his pupils darted back to the center, and he stated, “OK. We’re going skydiving.”

“OK-What?!?!” Della and Minigan cried in unison.

A blast of icy wind hit them both from behind as their diving instructor opened the door of the plane. They looked to Zac, who was wearing an Army green jump suit, aviator sunglasses, and a parachute back pack.

“Are you two ready? Zac Efron asked the uneasy Minigan and the terrified and still very pregnant Della. The roar of the wind made it hard for them to hear, but Zac made sure to yell it loud enough so that they could.

“No!” they answered in unison.

“We don’t even have parachutes!” Della added as she tried to step away from the airplane’s open door.

“It’s too late to start worrying about those kinds of luxuries, dudes,” Zac replied. He then grabbed a hold of an exposed beam above his head, swung both of his legs out in front of him, and kicked Minigan and Della in the rears, sending them tumbling out of the cabin of the cruising airplane. Zac did a running front flip out of the door, and zoomed down to his freefalling compatriots. Della was face up, her arms and legs flailing wildly and her long, dark brown hair obscuring her face. Minigan was facing the rapidly approaching earth, his mouth open wide and the wind expanding his cheeks, making it look like he was breathing out while his mouth was pressed up against a window.

Zac spun, dipped, darted, whirled, and whipped around them, making him look like he had the flying capabilities of Superman. He spun around to face them both and yelled, “Don’t worry, you two will land lightly on your feet when you hit the ground.”

This didn’t sooth either of them. As they plummeted for the next thirty seconds, both Minigan and Della panicked and flailed their limbs accordingly. But Zac was right. Right as they were about to hit the ground, all three sky divers slowed, and their legs swung down thanks to some invisible force. Each of their feet  gently touched the cracked, unkempt concrete as if they were only coming down of a single step.

“Minigan, Della, Welcome to Pryipat Ukraine.” Zac announced brightly to his shaking and panting cohorts.

Once he caught his breath, Minigan charged at Zac, yelling, “You kicked us out of a plane you son of a bit-“

“You’re a flaccid penis monster, Minigan!” Zac cried just Minigan swung a fist at his jaw.

The penis monster Minigan toppled forward into a pile on the irradiated ground, but not before landing a soft punch across Zac’s face. Zac laughed hysterically as the puddle of penises that was once Minigan Blackwood feebly gasped for air, his penis ribcage too weak to prevent his body collapsing upon itself.

“Despite how much I love seeing someone giving Minigan a taste of the torture he inflicts upon the rest of us,” Della said to Zac between sucking in lungful’s of air, “There is no one on this planet I hate more than you right now. So change him back before I punch the dick off you. Do you understand, bro?”

“Ugh, fine,” Zac replied, “Minigan isn’t a penis monster. Just his normal self.”

Zac reached out his hand to help Minigan up, but when Minigan swung his arm up, he missed Zac’s hand and punched him directly in the groin. When Zac leaned over and instinctively clutched his pummeled genitals, Minigan hit him with a right hook that sent him toppling to the ground.

As Zac, rolled on the ground, his hands wrapped around his crotch, as if doing that was the only thing keeping his balls from falling off and running away, Minigan climbed to his feet and said, “Really, asshole? You made my bones flaccid dicks too!?”

“Oh, shut up, Minigan,” Della snapped, “It’s your fault we’re here in the first place.”

“My fault?! Let’s not forget who decided to give fucking Troy Bolton here “Drug Fueled Leader” status.”

Della didn’t reply, but instead looked around at the long since abandoned amusement park they had landed in. Directly behind them was the bumpercars; the years of neglect had stripped the pavilion of its roof, and allowed tufts of foliage to break through the floor between the rusted cars. About thirty or so yards to their left was the Ferris wheel, its weathered skeleton looming over the area like death itself.

Nothing good comes in a setting with an abandoned Ferris wheel.

Nothing good comes in a setting with an abandoned Ferris wheel.

“Why does this place look so familiar to me?” Della asked.

“Have you ever heard of Chernobyl?” Minigan replied.

“Yeah.”

“Well, this was a neighboring town that was evacuated because of the Chernobyl disaster. Usually pictures from Pripyat get lumped in with the ones from the city of Chernobyl.”

“So, we’re in a place that was evacuated because of its deadly levels of radiation.”

“Exactly,” Minigan answered. Then, realizing what Della was getting at, he nudged the still incapacitated Zac with his foot and said, “Hey, you need to make us immune to the radiation here.”

“We’re immune,” Zac coughed.

“Good. Now get up, asshole, we need to find this gypsy.” Minigan and Della headed towards a series of apartment buildings that sat on the other side of a line of trees. Zac climbed to his feet, and as fast as he could while still cupping his balls, waddled to catch up with them.

“So where are we headed?” Zac asked.

“The gypsies are probably staying in one of these buildings. We’re going to search through each one until we find them,” Minigan answered.

“How do you know where they’re living?” Della asked.

“That’s where they were the last two times I found them.”

“Two times?”

“Yeah,” Minigan stated, “Two times. The first time so that they could teach me how to make the Olivia Wilde drug, the second so that I could kidnap and enslave Vanlow.”

Della rushed in front of Minigan and put her hand out, effectively stopping him. She stared at him with a combination of disbelief and anger when she said, “So not only did you know the gypsy you were going to enslave, but you also knew that they could do magic when you enslaved one of them?!”

“I wanted to make you a really nice cake! Besides, I was going to let him go afterwards.”

“It doesn’t matter you sociopath! I cannot believe I have to say this, but you shouldn’t enslave anyone, especially someone who you know can perform magic!”

“Uh guys,” Zac interrupted, tapping them both on the shoulder.

They looked to him, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he was focused on something several yards ahead. Minigan looked around Della to see what Zac was staring at. It was a little girl. Together, the three Americans cautiously walked towards the girl, who stood perfectly still, staring directly at them. The little girl, Minigan decided, couldn’t be older than seven years old. She wore a long dress that looked like it was stitched together from different patterns of fabric. Her blouse was baggy. Minigan wasn’t sure if it was tan or just discolored from lack of washing. The girl’s dark brown hair reached her waist, and was so wild that she had to keep it in place with a bandana similar to the one Della was wearing. In her hads was an old baby doll, obviously abandoned by the original owner during the evacuation in 1986, and wore only a gas mask over its face.

The Eighties were a weird time for everyone.

The Eighties were a weird time for everyone.

They were mere feet from the girl now; she just stared at them. She didn’t seem scared, or even wary of the intruders upon her home, she just stood and waited for them to get closer. Zac, Della, and Minigan stopped. No one said a word.

The girl stared at them with her teal colored eyes for a second or two, and then looked to Minigan and said, “Minigan Blackwood, Vanlow has been waiting for you.”

“Where is he,” Della asked before Minigan was even able to open his mouth.

The little girl looked to Della and said, “Follow the smoke.”

She then turned and made an underhand throwing motion. A cloud of crimson smoke formed about ten feet off the ground, and then darted off towards the buildings. Zac, Minigan, and Della quickly looked towards one another, and then rushed to catch up with it.

As they hurried along  the abandoned streets, Minigan regularly glanced upwards towards the forlorn buildings and through the darkened windows for any sign of life. Every once and a while, he would even glance behind them to make sure they weren’t being tailed. Not even the little girl with the gas mask doll was to be found.

The tree of them followed the smoke as it made a sharp left down an alleyway, and Minigan muttered to the other two, “Keep a lookout for gypsies; this is probably a trap.”

“Don’t worry Bro and bro-ette,” Zac replied, “If any try to ambush us, I’ll just spit some acid in their face.”

To demonstrate, Zac breathed deep and spat at the nearest wall. Oozing saliva (still a pale pink from the drugs) foamed up and ate away at the wall. In a matter of seconds, Zac’s spit had eroded a hole big enough for a person to climb through and it continued to expand. The already weakened structure began to sway towards the alley.

“Shit, Run!”

The building crumbled over them, showering the three with larger and larger chunks of debris. The thundering crash of the one building toppling into the other encouraged Della, Zac, and Minigan to run faster. The collapsing building chased them in return. Della, with the weight of her unborn child slowing her down, started to fall behind the two 25 year old men in peak physical condition. Realizing this, Minigan stopped, picked her up, and began sprinting down the alley once again, the toppling building raining pieces of brick and mortar upon them as he ran.  Minigan and Della escaped the alley with only a second to spare before the building Zac spat on collapsed entirely into the other, which then folded in upon itself, leaving a colossal pile of rubble where the two buildings and alley once sat.

Zac looked back at the destruction he had caused and said, “My bad.”

Minigan lowered Della’s feet back to the ground, and in an irritated tone, replied, “Nevermind. Let’s keep following the smoke.”

They followed the trail of crimson smoke through the desolate ruins of Pripyat for an uneventful ten minutes, the smoke winding its way through the city, it’s vibrant color stood out brilliantly compared to the dull off whites of the surrounding buildings. Finally, the smoke brought them to a town square. The crimson smoke darted towards the center of the square, and then stopped. The three hurried up on it, and once they got close enough, the cloud of smoke shot straight down.

Pripyat Central Square

Zac and Minigan hurried to the spot, with Della hobbling behind, grumbling about her aching back and feet. The three looked down at where the smoke had rested, finding it resting on the ground in the shape of a circle not much larger than a fist. Suddenly, sixteen lines of smoke began creeping from the circle, fanning out across the ground.

romani protection symbol

Curious, Minigan stepped away from the central point and watched as the sixteen lines spread outward from the center. It took a second or two, but Minigan finally recognized the symbol.

“We need to get out of the circle!” Minigan cried to Della and Zac, who were still fascinated by the arms of crimson smoke stretching across the pale grey concrete, “NOW!”

All three ran towards the ends of the smoke lines, but it was too late. The lines stopped, connected to each other with an outer circle, and in a flash, a semi-transparent dome erupted from the circle, trapping the three inside. Minigan had managed to extend his arm across the line as the dome formed, but the dome formed around it, trapping him and leaving his arm flailing on the outside. Minigan tugged on it, but I could not pull it through the dome’s force-field wall.

“Uh, guys,” Minigan begged, still pointlessly pulling, “A little help please?”

Della and Zac both grabbed onto Minigan’s torso and began to pull. Still nothing.

“What the hell is this, anyway?” Della asked as she wrapped her hands around Minigan’s bicep and tugged.

“The sixteen spoke wheel,” Minigan explained, “It’s a protection symbol for Gypsies. I remember seeing it drawn on Vanlow’s hand in icing when he was making the cake for you. I looked it up after he had escaped.”

“How did he escape, anyway?” Zac asked.

“I’m not sure- Della, stop digging your nails into my arm. I would like to keep it attached.” Minigan continued, “Della and I went to confront him after we survived the attack of the shit monster, but he had already escaped. He was able to perform some magic, but nothing like this, at least, not like I had ever seen. His magic seemed to be more potion based. I think he may have picked the lock or something.”

Wicked cackling erupted from behind them, making all three of them jump and Minigan wince in pain from his trapped arm. They turned around to see the little girl who had directed them there standing at the other end of the circle, grinning a devious grin at them.

I’ve waited long for you, dog.” She said in a voice more suited for an old hag than a little girl.

The little girls eyes sunk into their sockets, and the area around them darkened. Her fingernails grew into axe blades, and her teeth flattened into large bladed scoops, similar to shovels. She charged at the three, her toothy mouth opened wide to devour her captors. She lept. Zac spit. His spit hit her right on her cheek, and immediately began to eat away at her face. She fell to the concrete, shrieking and writhing in pain.

“Nice work, Efron,” a male’s voice with a light European accent said from outside the dome.

It was Vanlow. He was fairly young, no more than a year older than Zac or Minigan, but his dark features made him look much older. His hair was jet black and just long enough for the natural waves to stand out. He wore a pair of loose, dark blue pants that looked like they were made from some repurposed canvas cloth, which was tied with a weathered looking rope. A battered button-up shirt that was several sizes too large for him draped over his torso, and its sleeves he wore rolled up past his elbow. Confidently, he stepped through the force-field dome. Once inside, he turned to the wailing and now disfigured witch and made the sign of a cross. The witch instantly exploded into a cloud of crimson smoke, which continued to hang in the air , giving the light that passed through it a pink haze.

“I knew I should have never entrusted a witch to capture you,” Vanlow said with a grin, “They do have a tendency for eating their prey, do they not?”

Vanlow then grabbed onto Minigan’s trapped arm, and, with no concern about Minigan’s comfort, yanked his arm free from the dome, which sealed the hole his arm had left. He let Minigan fall to the ground, and slowly paced away from Minigan, Zac, and Della, to the other end of the dome.

Minigan rubbed his freed arm, and begrudgingly said, “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Now now, Minigan!” Vanlow cried as he turned on his heels and faced him, “That is such an improper tone to take with an old friend such as I. After all, I did teach you how to turn those fingers into ashes, did I not?” He started to walk back towards Minigan, his eyes flashing malevolently. “I assume you’re here to capture me once again? I’m sorry to say that that will not be happening today.

“Actually,” Della interrupted, “We’re only here to ask you to remove the curse you put into the cake. It destroyed my house, and I would really like for it to be back to normal before my baby arrives.”

Vanlow looked to her with mild surprise, “Your house? Minigan, you didn’t.”

“No. No. No. He absolutely didn’t have any involvement in me getting pregnant.” Della interjected, “Nor will he ever be. I have a husband that I love very much, and I’m very glad that he is nothing like Minigan.”

“I like you,” Vanlow said to her with a friendly smile, “Did you know that he had enslaved someone to make it?”

“No! Well, kind of. He mentioned it right before we ate it, but Minigan wouldn’t accept me refusing to eat a piece!”

“So you ate the cake, knowing that it was created by slave labor?” Vanlow asked as his friendly smile morphed into a dark glare, “Then I cannot help you. You did this to yourself.”

“C’mon, Vanlow” Minigan said as he returned to his feet, “Just change it back, and then you’ll never see us again.”

“How dare you!” The gypsy spat, “You enslaved me to make a cake!”

“And you’re being a real asshole about it right now, so I’d say we’re even.”

“OK, I’ve had enough of this,” Zac stated. He then pressed his wrists together, aiming his hands at Vanlow and yelled, “Hadouken!”

I burst of blue fire shot from Zac’s hands and at the chest of Vanlow, sending him sailing far outside the dome prison. Zac then turned to the dome and began to feverishly spit on it. Each wad of spit sailed through the dome as if nothing was there. Almost instantly, Vanlow was back on his feet and inside the dome, with tendrils of dark blue smoke stretching out from under his shirt and wrapping around Zac. With a light flick, the smoke tossed Zac across their prison, and he slammed hard into the force-field wall on the other end. Zac fell to the ground in a heap and didn’t move.

“You see, Minigan,”  Vanlow explained as we flicked his wrist and made the dome grow arms that grabbed Minigan and bound him to the wall, “I knew you’d come back to capture me again, so I have been practicing my magic. Impressive, no?”

“Very impressive,” A struggling Minigan replied, “Who knew being a raging prick was actually a form of witchcraft?”

“Even in the face of defeat, you still make your belittling jokes. You have no sense. Your ego makes you stubbornly refuse to bargin.”

“You never said that bargining was an option!”

“Bargining is always an option with Romanis.”

“Well then, what do you want?”

Vanlow paused for a second, scratching his chin as he pondered. When he figured it out, his eyes lit up with excitement and he answered, “I want a slave, just as you enslaved me.”

“Alright,” Minigan answered, the sound of defeat in his voice, “I’ll be your slave on the condition that if I escape, we’re still even.”

Vanlow laughed a hardy, booming laugh, “Who said I want you as a slave? I want her.”

“Her?!”

“Me?!”

“Yes, her,” Vanlow stated, “Enslaving one of your friends should be a much better punishment than enslaving you. Plus, when she gives birth, I’ll have a second slave. That’s just a better deal, is it not?”

“Then no deal,” Minigan replied, still struggling against the dome’s hands, “The whole reason we’re here is to help fix Della’s house. This isn’t fair to her. Just enslave me instead.”

“Listen to him!” Della pleaded frantically, “He’s strong! He can lift a lot heavier things that I can! You can put him to work!”

“This isn’t your decision, miss Della,” Vanlow said dismissively.”

“This decision directly affects me, of course it’s my decision!” Della snapped.

Minigan and Vanlow simultaneously shouted, “Stay out of this, Della!”

“I have a magical gypsy axe!” Zac shouted from the other end of the dome.

Vanlow turned around and watched in horror as Zac swung his axe down at the crimson smoke marking on the ground. The blade severed one of the sixteen lines, and the wheel symbol, as well as the imprisoning dome, vanished.

“No!” Vanlow roared.

“Hadouken!!”

Another blue fireball shot out of Zac’s hands and hit Vanlow, sending him flying for a second time. Della and Minigan rushed to him just as dozens of gypsies poured out of the decrepit buildings surrounding the square and surrounded them. The gypsies quickly had them surrounded, each one poised to attack with their various weapons or magic.

“Hold” Vanlow called from somewhere in the hoard. He stepped through the crowd, his wavy black hair disheveled from the blow, and his eyes bloodshot and furious. He picked up a stone from the ground, held it in one hand, and squeezed. From the rock dripped water as if the rock were a sponge.  When Vanlow opened his hand, all that was left of the stone vanished in a puff of dark blue smoke. He glared at them for a second or two before saying, “So you have chosen to fight, yes?”

“You got it, asshole,” Minigan called back.

“Fine,” the gypsy replied, “But the Romani are a close knit family. If you fight one of us, you fight all of us.”

“Bring it on!” Zac yelled. He then leaned over to Della and muttered under his breath, “Get on the wagon behind us, I have an idea.”

Della looked to find the cart sitting there, waiting for her, and she did just what Zac has said.

“Family, Attack!”

The clan of Gypsies charged at the three Americans. Zac and Minigan ran around to the other side of the wagon, pulled down of the handles so that Della’s end raised, and together, they began to push. Within seconds, Zac and Minigan were on the receiving end of a series of punches, blows from various chains and clubs, and blasts of smoke that were filled with needles or caused the two to feel dizzy. Whenever he could, Zac spat at the gypsies, effectively incapacitating them with the acid in his saliva.

Minigan, still taking a beating and unable to fight them off, yelled, “Zac, we need more superpowers to fight them off!”

“You’re right,” he replied between spits, “Della, stop them with your queefs!”

“My what?!”

“ Your queefs! You have superpowered queefs! It’s the classiest superpower ever!”

“Ever, or that your pathetic mind could think of?!”

“I meant me!” Minigan cried as a fanned away a turquoise cloud of smoke that was making is eyes swell.

Zac and Minigan spun the cart around, knocking over several gypsies in the process.

“Della hit ’em!”

With a look of pure loathing plastered on her face, Della leaned back, spread her legs, and squeezed. A light “pfft” sound crept out of her crotch. Suddenly, the tree gypsies coming up on Della were blown across the plaza, as if being carried away by some great wind. The gypsy hoard saw this, and out of either shock or fear, hesitated to move any closer. Taking this opportunity, Zac and Minigan spun the cart around again, and pulled it through the newly made gap in the crowd and towards the edge of the Plaza.

“What are you waiting for?!” Vanlow roared, “GET THEM!”

The mob obliged. Several steams of different colored smoke shot into the air like arrows, and then arched down at the fleeing Americans. Della aimed her pelvis and squeezed again. After about a second, the smoke collided with the queef, turning each trail of smoke a sickly green. The smoke trails then changed their direction and rushed back at the gypsy hoard, attacking their former masters. Panicked shrieks echoed through the otherwise quiet plaza. Chaos erupted from the clan as the clouds of queef tainted smoke assaulted the people who had cast them, many of them frantically running around, blinded by the haze. In the center of the Pandemonium, Vanlow stood, seething as he watched Minigan and his friends escape the plaza.

“What direction are we headed?” Zac asked between heavy breaths.

“I think towards the amusement park,” Minigan replied, “Let just try to get a much distance between us and those gypsies before we head back home.”

“But what about my house!” Della cried, right before she blasted a queef at a burly and mustachioed gypsy whom managed to break away from the carnage in the square and catch up to them. The queef hit the man, instantly binding him with ropes. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, squirming to break free from the bindings.

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot about your house,” Minigan replied to Della sarcastically, “maybe if we just stop and ask Vanlow nicely, he’ll change his mind.”

“Can we argue about this later?” Zac interjected, “I don’t think just distance is enough to keep those people from catching us.” he pondered for a second or two, then exclaimed, “I’ve got it! These buildings can shift to form a series of blockades!

Just then, the ground beneath them began to rumble. The shaking became more and more violent, to the point where the already decrepit apartment complexes began to sway. Then, slowly at first, with the sound of concrete rubbing on concrete, each building started to move. They spun and slid over the streets, and slammed into one another, forming an impenetrable maze of abandoned buildings in Minigan, Zac, and Della’s wake. Even the ones a head of them shifted, creating an escape route that lead directly to the Ferris Wheel. After not much time at all, the three had escaped the moving buildings of Pripyat, and were racing towards the vacant lot where they had begun.

Imagine it as the cheap version of Inception.

Imagine it as the cheap version of Inception.

Della, after she carefully scanned the now still buildings for signs on approaching gypsies, uttered “I can’t believe you, Minigan.”

“What did I do?”

“This is all your fault. If you hadn’t taken Vanlow as a slave, that cake wouldn’t have destroyed my house, and I wouldn’t in the Ukraine queefing at an angry mob of magical gypsies.”

“But I’m not the one to decide that the frat guy from Seth Rogan’s new movie should take the reality bending drugs!”

“Hey! I’ve been doing a good job!”

“You kicked us out of an airplane and almost collapsed a building on us, you dick!” Della snapped.

“That’s right!”

“Hey, I don’t even need to help you bickering douchebags!” Zac snapped, “How is any of this my problem?”

The three continued to argue, and as they did, they failed to notice the plume of dark blue smoke rise over the buildings and fly towards them. The smoke arched, and then rocketed to the ground, landing mere feet away from the arguing trio. Out of the smoke stepped Vanlow, still notably furious, but also wearing a look of triumph on his tan face.

“You really thought you could escape me so easily?” Vanlow announced, but Della, Minigan, and Zac payed no attention to him, opting to continue arguing instead. Flabbergasted by such an unusual response, momentarily paused, his anger robbed from him. Once it resurfaced, he roared, “HEY!”

Minigan, Zac, and Della stopped and looked to him. In unison, they said, “Will you shut the hell up, we’re in the middle of something!”

Zac added, “You wait until the Americans are done talking.”

With a flick of his wrist, Vanlow whipped up some dark blue smoke. The smoke raced down to Zac’s ankles, wrapped around them, and then shot upwards, making Zac flip in the air and land on his neck. Minigan charged at the gypsy. He counter acted with another burst of smoke, this one throwing Minigan across the parking lot and into the bumper cars pavilion. Minigan slammed into one of the weather worn cars and collapsed onto the ground. Vanlow shot seven more smoke blasts at the pavilion before turning to face Della.

Vanlow smirked at Della, “You’re coming with me.”

“Stand back,” Della cried, “My queefs will rip you apart!”

She closed her legs and then opened them again, and her vagina made a sound similar to that of a cocking gun (see what I did there?). Vanlow was undeterred, and took a step towards her. Poot. The shock of the queef made Vanlow stagger backwards, but he quickly regained his composure and stepped up to face Della again. He raised his right hand, and emitted a thick cloud of smoke that darted at the pregnant Della. She queefed again, and it collided with the smoke, turning it a sickly green color like the others. But it didn’t attack Vanlow; It just hung in the air for a second or two before bursting into flames.

“Oh, come on, my Queefs aren’t that deadly.”

Vanlow didn’t reply, but instead shot another plume of smoke at Della. Della was too slow that time, and the smoke hit her directly in the stomach. Della didn’t feel a thing. She gave Vanlow a confused look, that is, until she felt her pants get wet.

“Guys!” she yelled, “My water just broke I think!”

Zac, with his face planted on the concrete, mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m fine.” Feeling better, Zac stood up, jumped on the cart, and yelled, “This cart can move by itself, and wants to keep away from Vanlow!”

The bed of the cart leveled, and with an awkward lurch forward, sped away from the vengeful Romani smoke lord. Vanlow created a pool of blue smoke at his feet. He closed his eyes as the smoke swirled and rolled around him, undulating as if something alive was stirring beneath its surface. The swirling waves of smoke grew more violent, and then Vanlow opened his eyes. The smoke shot up into the sky, carrying him with it. Within seconds, he was several stories up in the air, and arcing downward towards the fleeing cart. Vanlow rocketed at Zac and Della, looking like a hipster Iron Man with a serious suit malfunction. The cart sped up in an attempt to avoid the flying gypsy, but Vanlow was too quick, and within seconds was about to crash into them. That’s when Minigan dove into Vanlow’s path, and collided with him, sending both men spiraling  away from the cart.

-a few minutes earlier-

Minigan landed on his back, his body spread out on the bumper car pavilion’s floor. Struggling to sit up, he watched as seven blasts of smoke followed him into the pavilion and crashed into each of the cars. Instantly, the cars came to life and charged at Minigan. Despite feeling worn down already, Minigan jumped to his feet and dove over the first car. The second and third car charged at him at the same time, so Minigan jumped at the last second, causing them to crash into one another. He landed on the yellow one that had pink graffiti scrawled on the hood, and from there hopped over the metal fence and out of the pavilion.

You can see the murder in their non-eyes.

You can see the murder in their non-eyes.

Racing away from the bumpercars that were desperately trying to break free, Minigan looked up and saw Vanlow’s smoke trail streaking down towards the fleeing cart. As fast as his burning legs could carry him, Minigan sprinted towards the cart. At the last second, he dove, managing to grab a hold of Vanlow as he passed.

The two men hit the rough concrete and rolled several feet before breaking apart and coming to a stop. Minigan was back on his feet first, but was unsteady. His warm blood oozed from the newly formed scrapes on his forarms and face, and the dull throbbing pain in his skull made it hard to see straight.

From behind him, Minigan heard Zac yell, “You’re fine Minigan! Kick that dirty gypsy’s ass!”

“OK,” Minigan replied, his vision cleared and his head feeling fine, “Just help Della give birth!”

“What?!”

“You heard me-“

A loud clang of metal hitting pavement indicated to Minigan that the bumper cars had escaped. He looked to where Vanlow had been, only to realize he had vanished. Minigan ran back to the zigzagging cart, deciding that that was the perfect opportunity to give himself an edge against Vanlow. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his secret bag of Olivia Wilde and Charlie Sheen. As best he could, Minigan dumped the contents into his mouth and swallowed.

“I’m on the cart,” he announced.

“Holy shit,” Zac stammered, looking both terrified and sick, “H-How did you do that?”

“No time for questions Zaccy Effs,” Minigan replied brightly, “Where is Vanlow?”

“That’s a question!”

In a pained voice, Della replied, “I don’t know. God this hurts!”

“Good to know. But while he’s still gone, we need to figure out how to stop him.”

“There’s no way to stop him!” Zac cried, a little more frantically than he normally would have, “He is more powerful than the drugs. Nothing I tried has stopped him yet.”

Minigan pondered for a second, and then asked, “Quick, what’s the one thing Gypsies are powerless against?”

“Nazis?” Della answered between breaths.

“Soap?” Zac added.

“Ugly jewelry?”

“Peddling their half assed fortune telling chicanery?”

“Bondage!” Minigan shouted, “They’re mostly nomadic. They hate being tied to a particular place! If we are able to tie him up, then maybe that will weaken him!”

“But you tied him up before and he escaped,” Della noted, “oh God, here comes another contraction!”

“Minigan please don’t make me help with this,” Zac pleaded over Della’s pained yells.

“Vanlow picked the lock- he didn’t use magic, Della. And Zac, you need to help deliver the baby, it’s the only way.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

Just then, the leading bumper car rammed into the back of the cart, making the wooden bed tilt back and forth like a seesaw.

“That’s why,” Minigan said as he pulled a handful of mines out of his pocket.

“Where the hell did you get those?!” Zac asked, “Wait a second, did you take some Olivia Wilde?!”

“Yes.”

“I thought you didn’t have anymore!”

“I had to lie to you cause I figured you would try to dick me over again,” Minigan explained, “So this was my back up in case shit went afoul,”

“You deceitful little bastard!” a red faced Della shouted in a much deeper voice that usual, “You’ve been giving me shit all day about letting Zac have the stupid bag of drugs when you had more! You petty little shit. If I wasn’t about to have a baby, I’d beat the hell out of you!”

“Hey, if I wanted someone to ride my ass, I would’ve just twerked with Robin Thicke at the VMA’s.”

Without another word, Minigan dumped the mines onto the ground in front of the cart. The cart rolled over them with no problem, but as soon as the first automatous  bumper car drove over one, it exploded into thousands of pieces of flying shrapnel. The other cars were destroyed in the same way, one at a time, exploding into pieces.

“Impressive, Minigan,”Vanlow’s voice said from behind him.

“Oh, God, the baby’s coming!”

“Tell it to wait a little while longer!”

“Vanlow,” Minigan demanded, “End this. Let us go.”

“Never.”

“Fine.” Minigan snapped, “Vanlow is tied down with chains!”

Vanlow looked at the thick metal chains that were binding him. He scoffed, and the chains vanished in a puff of Dark blue smoke.

“The three of you know nothing about me,” Vanlow muttered darkly, “Nothing about the Roma! Nothing about our culture! You don’t even know one of our oral traditions.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a few oral traditions of my own, if you know what I mean,” Zac interjects. He goes to give Della a high five, but she just glares at him.

“Shut up, Zaccy Effs,” Minigan commanded.

Ignoring Zac, Vanlow continued, “So let me give you a lesson!”

“You’re a penis monster, Minigan.”

Vanlow shot several spike shaped clouds of smoke at the penis monster Minigan, but all they did was disperse once they hit him.

Penis monster Minigan smirked at the dumbfounded Vanlow and quipped, “So, was the first lesson that you guys are pointless?”

Vanlow let out an angry roar and dive tackled Minigan. The two men tumbled out of the rolling cart and onto the metal strewn concrete. Vanlow rolled away from Minigan and quickly stood up, and then backed away from the Penis monster on the ground, clouds of blue smoke puffing erratically out of his ears and nose. Penis monster Minigan stood up and faced his foe. Noting that Vanlow seemed to have lost some of the control of his smoke after tackling him, Minigan charged.

Vanlow dodged Minigan’s attack and screamed, “You want to fight as monsters? I shall fight you as a monster!”

The gypsy vanished in a billowing plume of smoke that grew upwards about forty feet. The swirling, dark blue cloud expanded and expanded until it blocked most of the rearranged Pripyat from view. Then, with a deafening high pitched roar, a 24 headed dragon stepped out.

Della screamed in pain, which was echoed by Zac and Minigan, who admittedly were screaming about two different things.

The dragon, with a single swipe, snatched up Minigan in its claw and brought it up to one of its many faces.

“Stop Pushing, Zac!”

“YOU stop pushing, Della!”

“THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS, EFRON!”

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!” Minigan cried, as he stared into the gaping mouth of the 24 headed dragon.

“You’ll never stop me, Minigan,” The dragon roared, “Either give me the girl, or I’ll destroy everything you love.”

“How about you not take the girl and not destroy everything I love?” Minigan asked.

“That also works,” The dragon replied.” And how about we sit down and drink of the finest wine, and eat meat that no man has ever eaten?” The Vanlow Dragon joked, “This isn’t a fairy tale, Minigan! In the real world, dragons aren’t so easily outsmarted!”

Vanlow closed his claws around Minigan and squeezed. Bursts of pain shot through his body as his bones and internal organs were squeezes to the point of breaking or rupturing. Minigan began to feel the blood vessels in his eyes begin to burst and the oxygen escape from is lungs.

Thinking quickly, Minigan used his free hand and, with what little breath he had left, squeaked, “My penis fingers are highly elastic.”

Minigan’s elastic penis fingers stretched out and wrapped themselves around the main head of the multi headed dragon.  This didn’t do much, so Minigan had his fingers urinate on the Dragon. All twenty four heads shrieked in pain as the urine burned its skin. Out of the combination of anger and pain, the dragon threw Minigan to the ground. Minigan bounced to his feet, and while the Dragon was still wailing because of his burns, Minigan ran to the cart.

“Della,” Minigan shouted, looking at her through his strained and bloody eyes, “I need your afterbirth!”

Della- Why must the all the focus be on what comes out of my vagina today?!

Despite taking deep lungful gasps of air, Minigan managed to retort, “You’re expelling a human being from it right now. Try to keep up, Della, this is important.”

“Fuck you Minigan!” Della screamed through clenched teeth.

“The head’s out!” A shaky Zac interjected, “One more push I think. At least that’s what the movies say.”

Della screamed, gave a final push, and little Myka was born. Zac caught it, and spanked its ass, causing the newborn to start crying. Zac then wrapped the baby in a blanket that he pulled out of nowhere and handed him to an exhausted Della. She looked into her baby’s eyes, and for a moment, everyone was at peace. Nothing mattered except that the baby was ok, which he was. Minigan breathed a sigh of relief and patted Zac on the shoulder, which Zac returned. Della, for the first time in months, was smiling.

But of course, the moment was ruined by the livid twenty four headed dragon lumbering towards them. Minigan quickly  gathered up as much after birth as he could, doing his best not to gag, and placed it into a large plastic bag he had pulled from nowhere. He tied the bag, aimed, and threw.

Majestically, the bag of placenta sailed high into the air, catching the light of the setting sun as it did. Not so majestically, it exploded on one of the faces of the dragon. The other twenty three heads began to screech and flail, and one by one, exploded into blue smoke.

Just as the dragon’s body did the same Minigan ran forward yelling, “Vanlow is tiny and I have a jar that is impervious to all kinds of gypsy magic!”

I tiny sounding cry rang out from the blue smoke, and Penis Monster Minigan did a running somersault to catch the miniaturized  gypsy. He caught the four inch tall man in the jar, and immediately twisted the lid on and sealed it.

“Let me out, Minigan,” the tiny Vanlow cried, “I demand it!”

“I’m so sorry, Vanny Low,” Minigan replied, “but I’m afraid I cannot do that. I gave you enough opportunities to not be an insufferable butt-hole, but you refused. This jar is where you shall stay.

“You want my curse undone?” Vanlow bargained, “It’s done. The curse has been lifted, and her house is back to normal.

“Oh yeah,” The penisified Minigan said incredulously, “We’ll see about that.” He then shouted to no one in particular, “We’re all back at Della’s house, in her living room.”

Regular Minigan turned around to see Della resting on her living room couch. The ceiling and walls were neither stained with sewage nor containing giant holes and exposed pipes. The air was heavy with a sweet smelling potpourri, not the smell of human excrement, and there wasn’t a single terrified snake in sight.

“See,” Vanlow cried, “Now can you let me out?”

“Sorry. Not gonna happen.”

“But we made a deal!”

“I’m sorry?” Minigan snapped, “We made no deal. You did this on your own; I didn’t agree to anything.”

“But bargaining is always an option!” Vanlow cried.

“Bargaining was an option until you turned into a dragon and tried to squeeze the life out of me.”

“But…”

Minigan refused to hear another word from Vanlow, and instead stuffed the jar into his bookbag. He then joined Zac, Della, and her husband and sister in celebrating the new life.

Hours later, when Minigan finally got back home, he went to his room, shutting the door behind him. With his bookbag, he climbed up to the shelf above his desk. He pulled out the jars of Kinich Ahau and Vanlow and placed them on the shelf.

Then, with a lingering look over at the rest of the empty shelf, said, “Hmm…”

THE END… FOR NOW

The Weirdest Items I Never Knew I Desperately Wanted

If you haven’t guessed already, I spend a lot of my free time on the internet. Since you’re reading my blog, which is essentially the dregs of the non-porn internet, I assume you all do too. But that’s great! That means that we have something in common! Let’s be friends. Here: I’ll even kick things off with a funny video that you’ve probably already seen. And if you haven’t, then your entire life has been wasted up until this point. See! Friends helping friends!

Anyway, what I was getting at before was that since I spend a lot of time on the internet, I have begun to spend good chunk of my time shopping for things on the internet. This trend started off normally enough- T-shirt Hell T-shirts, movies and CDs (yes I am the backwards person that still buys those) that I cannot find in the store, sex toys, really obscure gag gifts for friends- you know, things you couldn’t or wouldn’t want to purchase from another judgmental human being. (For instance I once bought a Kama Sutra for a friend and his girlfriend for Christmas. It didn’t go over well.) But over time, just like porn, my online shopping habits evolved, and due to the sheer overwhelming variety of weird shit you can purchase online, my most recent online purchases include a ceramic lighted fish market for my Christmas Villiage, and yards of fabric for this year’s Halloween costume.

But those things are still somewhat normal compared to these next items, because you know that the items above exist offline. These following items are things that I probably would have never guessed existed, and probably wouldn’t exist, if it wasn’t for the internet’s demand of products that compliment every flavor of crazy. But the worst thing about all of these products is that they’re things I’ve always wanted, but I never knew it until I found them.

  1. Batman Motorcycle Helmet (Dude I Want That)
    batman-motorcycle-helmet
    I’m going to level with you right now: I don’t ride motorcycles. However, I would absolutely start riding if I had this helmet. It is honestly the only thing that would motivate me to go out and get a bike. Hell, just imagining me speeding down the freeway on a jet black bike with that helmet on, the visor down and transforming me into Gotham’s Avenger of the Night makes me want to sell my car and hitchhike to the nearest Crotchrocket dealership
    However, My mind doesn’t stop there. I think about protecting my body with Batman themed bike gear. And that’s when I remember that Dude I Want That has already answered that prayer too with this:
    the-dark-knight-rises-motorcycle-suit
    Really Internet? You know me so well that you saw to it that a Batsuit was made specifically for riding motorcycles, let me see it and forget about it, and then introduce me to a motorcycle helmet with Batman ears just so that I buy it all? Just please do not tell me that I can buy a working replica of the Batcycle from the movies. I don’t think I’d be able to resist becoming The Batman if I knew I could buy that too.
  2. Assorted wall mounted hand decorations (Jack Threads)
    Wall Mounted Hands
    Quick, what’s the best way to make your friends and neighbors think you’re a serial killer while simultaneously making acid trips in your house terrifying? The answer to that question is these wall mounted hands. These hands will cost you anywhere from $30 to $79, but they practically pay for themselves once you factor in how few parties you will have to host once you install them. And just imagine waking up from a nightmare  where people were coming out of the walls, and seeing actual hands reaching out from the walls. There’s no way that story ends without you setting fire to your place before you realize what you saw.I honestly don’t know what kind of person would want these wall mounted hands, but I do know that I am among them. I kind of see them as disembodied servants: taking my keys, my coat, my spare change, and flicking me off, right as I walk in the door every day. Plus, they give me an interesting place to rest my arm when I’m suavely welcoming guests to my (nonexistent) abode. I guess I like them because I think they’re so unusual that I’d be the only one I know with them in my place. And sure, my friends and relatives might begin to suspect that I’m a psycho killer and tip off the cops, but they won’t find anything- I keep my “souvenirs” hidden in my shed in the woods.
  3. Demon Bells (Dude I want that)
    Demon Bells
    For those of you who don’t know. I work out. A lot. And I even use Kettle bells from time to time. But I work out at a gym, and they have their own kettle bells. Stupid ones without demonic faces on them. I know, it’s pointless to use them if they don’t have demonic faces on them, but I’ve already shown them to both owners of my gym, and they didn’t seem too eager to buy a set of them.
    I’m compelled to buy these myself. I look into their eye holes and I feel compelled to throw my money at my computer screen. “Buy us, Minigan,” they chant as their eyes begin to glow, “Buy us all, and attain the strength of the Gods! Then you can smite those heretics who refused to buy us in the first place!”
    And I totally would, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m sure that I wouldn’t work out if I only worked out at my house. I need that gym atmosphere, not a bunch of demonic weights lurking in my basement. Maybe one day I’ll have a private gym in my house. And if that day comes, then you can bet that these Demon bells will be there, threatening me with ass rape so that I do one more rep.
  4. Dumb And Dumber minimalist poster (Etsy)
    Dumb-And-Dumber-Poster
    I don’t know about anyone else, but I just cannot figure out why I like minimalist posters so much. Is it because they’re all about a reference to a random part of the movie. Are they to show the world how big movie buffs we are because we “get” those references? Is it because of their purposely cruddy quality that we think they’re oldschool even though Dumb and Dumber is from the 1990’s? Is this what hipster culture has come to?
    The answer to each of those questions is a “yes.” I’m a hipster movie lover who wants everyone to know how knowledgeable I am with 90’s pop culture trivia. And clearly I’m not the only one, because you can find minimalist movie posters on just about every website that sells artwork.
  5. Zombie Annihilation Crate (Man Crates)
    zombie_annihilation_crate
    I have a confession to make with this one: I’m not nearly into zombies as everyone I know thinks I am. Don’t get me wrong: I love “Zombieland,” “Shawn of the Dead” is amazing, and I have some very compelling arguments why “Zombie Strippers” is the movie with the best handled Zombie Apocalypse, but the entire genre seems a little stale to me. Sure “The Walking Dead” as proven to be successful, but I cannot get into it because every time I tune in, I see, maybe, one zombie slaying. Meanwhile, on the internet, everyone is playing Who’s Our Favorite Character Roulette. I’m sorry pop culture, but there’s only one part of the whole “Zombie Apocalypse” trend that I’m into- Thinking that I would evolve into a total fucking badass if the zombie apocalypse would occur. That’s why I want this. Because whatever the statistics surrounding a zombie epidemic may say (mostly that the despite how badass you think you’ll be during the zombie apocalypse, you’re still more likely to end up as a shambling corpse than one of the ragtag survivors), I’m still going to genocide the hell out of some zombies. And while there are many different kinds of zombie slaying kits out there, this one is the most comprehensive for the least amount of money.
  6. Super Hero Under Armour (Under Armour)
    Spiderman Under Armour
    It’s about goddamn time, Underarmor! Do you know how many times I’ve put on my regular, non-superhero themed Under Armour shirt and felt like I belonged in my own comic book? Like, Everytime! Ok, folks, this one doesn’t fit with the rest because I always knew I wanted this, and I had been waiting patiently for someone to make it a reality.  The rest of the things on this list, I can honestly say that I never realized I always wanted them until I saw them for the first time, but I knew I wanted Superhero Under Armour ever since I first tried on my first compression shirt. There is no way I’m not buying one of these.Wait a goddamn second. Look at this screenshot from the Under Armour’s website:

Under Armour's Lies
They’re only for kids?! But I checked a goddamn month ago and they had adult sizes too. Damn you Under Armour for getting my hopes up like that. This is my own private Hell.

The Quest to Find My (Other) Doppelganger

As you may or may not know, earlier last year I met, kidnapped, and eventually went bowling with my doppleganger, Mike Thompson. Well, he’s in jail now (which is probably partially my fault, but let’s not get hung up on technicalities) so I’m saddened that I may never have another adventure with my doppelganger. Afterall, everyone knows that you only get one doppelganger, and once that one’s gone/ dead/ arrested because the police think he is you, you don’t get another one.
What’s that, universe? I’m so awesome that I deserve multiple doppelgangers? Are you sure that won’t upset The Balance? I deserve it? Well, OK….

"Here you go, Mr. Blackwood." -The Universe

“Here you go, Mr. Blackwood.” -The Universe

Last Wednesday, while I was talking with my dad on the phone, I heard my older sister loudly yell, “Is this Minigan?!” After discussing how I don’t remember hanging off of a building, so it probably wasn’t me, she directed me to The Chive where I saw the picture for myself. Holy shit. Is that me? I honestly don’t remember hanging off the side of a building, and none of those buildings in the background look familiar, but holy shit does that guy look like me. Sure, if I want to be nit-picky, there are some differences in our appearances; For instance, I am more muscular than him, and his nose looks kind of weird. But other than those two things, we look damn near identical.
So now comes the fun part: Where can I find this guy so that we can go on a bunch of crazy adventures together? My first guess as to the whereabouts of my twin was going to be Russia, since hanging off the sides of sky scrapers while shirtless seems exactly like something that would be a common occurrence up there. But this place looks warm, much warmer than the frigid hell that I assume Russia is. So this could possibly Eastern Europe, which has some of the bat-shit crazy remnants of Soviet occupation, with warmer weather. But I still wouldn’t rule out a place like Las Angeles or Miami, judging by how identical those buildings in the background are. I’m guessing that is an apartment complex, not a series of identically shaped ruins. Unfortunately, the buildings on the horizon are in too much of a haze to be recognizable (lending credit to the Las Angeles theory), so I cannot figure out the location based on the skyline.
However, I think a more important question is, “Who is this guy?” Now, my first reaction when I saw this was to challenge this twin of mine to a duel, defeat him, and eat his heart to gain his power. But that feeling of course is crazy. No one knows if that actually works. But I still want to know about this guy. What are is likes- other than hanging off the sides of sky scrapers? What are his dislikes-other than shirts (we clearly have something in common)? Does he do this often, or was this a onetime thing? Are these clearly awful people photographing him his shitty friends or just casual onlookers? Is this his only talent? Is it marketable? I want to know all these things. And I absolutely want to meet him so that I can get a picture with him. Then he could share it with his awful and uncaring friends, and I can share it with my regular uncaring friends. So if anyone has information on who or where this man is, please contact me here.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, my wonderful coworker Michelle (the one who I owe 200 punches to the boobs) wrote a flattering review of my blog. Support me by supporting her supporting me. Here’s the link:

http://voices.yahoo.com/blog-review-ramblings-madman-11893006.html?cat=9
Peace.

Websites Past Me Never Would Have Thought He Would Frequent

For those of you who’ve read my very first post to this blog (and who hasn’t read that gem?), you may remember it being about how I dislike blogs. But everyone should notice that 102 blog posts after that first one, I still have no intention of ending this blog, nor do I hate still blogging. It’s one of those whole “People change” kind of deals. Well, since I was thinking about how my views on blogs had changed over the past three years, I’d figured that I should also look at what websites I frequent now and compare them to how I felt about them back when I started this blog. This should be a journey for all of us.

Twitter

Twitter logo 2012

Website Description

-For those of you who don’t know what Twitter is, I’m assuming this is your first time on the Internet. If that’s the case, then welcome and thank you for choosing my blog to be the first site you go to. I have all the information you’ll ever need. Also, just wait until you find the porn here. The floors of the Internet are practically caked with it.

I don't think that's porn...

I don’t think that’s porn…

Anyway, the best way to describe Twitter objectively is like this:

Imagine you’re in a giant room that is filled with millions of people. Now, imagine that these millions of people are shouting things at no one in particular. Yes, every once and a while you’ll see someone turn their head and shout something at someone, or maybe they’ll shout a response to someone else’s shout, but for te most part, they are just standing there looking over everyone’s heads and shouting things. Maybe they’re shouting a joke. Maybe they’re shouting about what their doing/ watching/ listening to. Maybe they’re shouting an inspirational cliché that they had heard once but weren’t clever enough to come up with on their own. And maybe they’re shouting about what they’re eating while waving around a filtered image of the food. This is what everyone in this room does. Every hour of every day.

And there are celebrities in this room, and these celebrities are also shouting things or shouting responses to other celebrities shouts or even shouting things that help promote important dates for them. And the rest of the people in this room will listen to those shouts and will shout back compliments or insults, depending on whether they like the celebrity or not.

And finally, up on one of the walls of this vast room of shouting people is a board. On this board is a list of things that people are shouting about the most at that particular time. This encourages more people to shout about it too. And every person is shouting with the millions of other people that are shouting, In the hopes that for once their mindless shouts are heard.

That is Twitter.

How me from 2009 feels about it

-Quite honestly, Twitter was the stupidest idea on the planet. Why would anyone want to waste their time on a website where all you can do us regularly post status updates. That is pretty much the most annoying part of Facebook. Like I want to see nothing but passive aggressive ventings about exes or updates where people fish for sympathy. It would drive me crazy and I would probably want to punch the people I follow so hard in the face that my hand would get stuck in the hole I’d create in their self-obsessed faces. There is no way in Hell I would ever get a goddamn Twitter.

How I feel about it now

-Oh my God do I love that site! OK, well that’s a little hyperbolic, but I do enjoy the site greatly, and that is largely due to the people that I follow. I’ll admit, when I first got on Twitter, I had a cruddy phone that wouldn’t let me get on the site whenever I was away from my computer. Unfortunately, the whole point of Twitter is being able to get on wherever you are. So, once I got my iPhone, I downloaded the app and started getting on the site more often. I eventually followed all the Cracked.com columnists, even the ones I didn’t have a man crush on, and then quickly moved on to random stand-up comedians, other internet comedy writers, and twitter comedians, all of whom fill up my Twitter feed with awesome jokes 24 hours a day. And as of writing this, two of the hilarious twitter comedians, Ephing Adoraballs and Kay Marvin are now following me, which makes me feel like I have been made a junior member of the Twitter Comedian group. Now if I could only get Soren Bowie, and Easy_Tiger_ to follow me, maybe I could be considered a part of the handsome ones. This is my dream. Don’t judge me.

Etsy/ Fab

etsy-logo

Website Description

-Etsy and Fab are websites dedicated to selling quirky-not necessarily nerdy- things. sure you can buy beard knit beanies, but you can also buy anything from colorful antique knick knacks to hand made light fixtures to T-shirts or other forms of clothing for the hipster in you.

How me from 2009 feels about it

-Well, I don’t think Etsy or Fab existed in 2009, but I don’t mean those websites in particular, but just what kind of website they are, which is a website where you can buy quirky housewares. There is no reason why I should want to go on there. I don’t live on my own, in an apartment, a house, or a trailer in the woods; I live with my mom, so why would I even consider buying myself a bookshelf shaped like the Bat Symbol, no matter how badass it is?

which if you were wondering, is incredibly badass.

which if you were wondering, is incredibly badass.

And then, there is the fact that I probably know nothing about how to decorate a home. I get that certain colors go together and that all the wood in a room should be the same shade of brown, but who am I, [looks up HGTV hosts] Mike Holmes? My house will probably be so stylistically confused, it would probably look like the house equivalent of a masculine straight man trying on his first dress.

How I feel about it now

-I am thankful that I don’t have more money to spend, otherwise I’d go broke on Etsy. I discovered the website officially through Dude I Want That when I saw this picture:

This will class up every bathroom everywhere.

This will class up every bathroom everywhere.

I just knew that I had to get this picture for my uncle for Christmas. And being the determined little asshole that I am, I immediately signed up to Etsy and bought the picture. And then I started browsing the site. Holy Hell. It’s like all weird things that I could ever want for a house were put on this one website for me to buy. I cannot tell you how many hours I’ve spent looking through the categories on either of these sites, but let’s just say that they really help me procrastinate writing for this blog, and even this blog post. And on a related note, I am totally going to buy that picture of Sasquatch for my bathroom.

The Onion

Onion- Logo

How me from 2009 feels about it

-Now, let me clarify, It’s not that I don’t like The Onion, or that I have any kind of reason to not read it, it’s just that Cracked.com takes up so much of my free reading time that I pretty much forget that The Onion even exists unless someone posts a link to facebook. And even then I might not even read it, because hey, Cracked posted three new articles, a new video, AND a new Photoshop contest today, and I am still in college so I still have homework and two jobs to do. Who the hell am I, Jesus? Sorry Onion, but you were going to have to wait.

How I feel about it now

-I love that website, and I’m there all the time, but I’m still smart about it. I only read the articles that sound most interesting to me. Usually when I do this, I find myself hoping that the article I chose is an actual article and not just a picture or one of their local news pieces. I have, however, gotten so good at knowing which is which just by judging by the title, but every once in a while they trick me. But that’s OK, because their actual articles and videos are usually hilarious and I kind of hate myself for not reading more of their articles over the past three years.

Threadless

Threadless_logo

Website Description

-For those of you who never read a banner on a non-porn website, Threadless is a T-shirt selling website that is largely powered by its fans. Fans submit their shirt designs, fans vote on the designs, and fans probably whip the child slaves who print the shirts. You know, circle of life.

How me from 2009 feels about it

Threadless? What the Hell is Threadless? A t-shirt site? I refuse to go there. T-Shirt Hell has my complete and unwavering loyalty. Why in God’s salty name would I buy from or even browse another t-shirt site? It would be like I was cheating on T-Shirt Hell, and T-Shirt Hell would know. They have ways of knowing these things.

How I feel about it now

-It took some time for Threadless to win me over, what with me being so stubborn about T-shirt Hell, but eventually some of the really cool- not funny designs got a hold of me, and I started shopping there. Now, I have around eight shirts from that site, including this one, which is a funny shirt. So clearly, I’ve completely given up on my college days morals of corporate loyalty. Sorry T-shirt Hell. I still love you fuckers, but Threadless has this shirt of a screaming Native American Chief, and it is one of the coolest shirts I own. So you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that you aren’t my soul site for awesome clothes anymore.

All Recipies

All-Recipies-logo

Website Description

-Allrecipes.com is a website with recipes on it. Like Threadless, most of the recipes on All Recipes was submitted by a user. That is pretty much how the entire internet works now, so that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. I’m beginning to think that these descriptions are a little condescending to you guys, and if that’s true, I’m sorry.

How me from 2009 feels about it

-I’ll admit, I’ve been to this website. Once. And that was for my super-awesome-totally-sexy-guacamole recipe. I only went there for that recipe, and only until I had the recipe memorized. Granted, I do cook for myself a lot because I’m living at home and I am this weird kind of lazy where I’d rather make food than go out and get food made for me, but I never needed a recipe website. I know what I’m going to cook for dinner, and damnit, I’m going to cook the shit out of it. I am the fucking master of chicken stir fry and the grill!

How I feel about it now

-Now, I want to make weird things. Like soup. Homemade soup! And schnitzel! And homemade macaroni and cheese! I don’t how to make any of these fucking things! Where the hell is the real adult that lives here! I NEED HER TO COOK FOR ME! I NEED FOOOOOOOOOOD

What is that, stomach? Eat the cat? I don't think I should... Well, if you insist...

What is that, stomach? Eat the cat? I don’t think I should… Well, if you insist…

Ok, I’ll admit, I do not use their exact website, but I do have their app on my phone, so I think it still counts. Now, whenever I feel like making something random, like jerk chicken, I have a recipe on hand. (I’ve never actually made jerk chicken. That was just an example. You get the idea. Stop being dicks about this.) Plus, I can access the app when I’m at the store so that I know what ingredients I need for the jerk chicken. (Seriously, shut up.) And then the instructions help me to jerk that chicken real good. (OK, now you’re just thinking up masturbation jokes… That one might be on me. My bad.)

Alright folks. That’s it for this week. And next week I’m probably not going to post anything, since I want to write another Awesomesquad! Assemble! post next. Just as a teaser, I’m going the flashback route again (kind of) and we’re going fight a certain fame monster. That should’ve just given it away. So until then, go follow me and those people I linked on Twitter. Do it!

Peace

Ramblings of a Madman 100th Blog Post Spectacular!

[Opening. Interior, therapy room. Several mismatched couches and chairs are arranged in a circle, and filled with an odd assortment of people in varying levels of anger from disgruntled to livid. In this group of people are the movie stars, Zac Efron and Kate Beckinsale, the musician turned convict, Nick Jonas, the regular convict Mike Thompson, gymnast Damien Walters, weapons creator Everett Bradford, as well as the unknown Della Carver, Julie and Mark Lechliter, Paul Khoo, Brennen Crawford, Kevin Crawford, Andreas (Andy) Hekel, Zack and Sharlene Shell, and a therapist. In an empty space on a couch sits a television tuned into the news and muted, on one chair is a robot with a spinning wheel of multicolored floppy dildos, and on another one sits a T-shirt with a speaker built in. There are five seats empty.]

Della- Where the Hell is Minigan and Becky? They were supposed to be here an hour ago! And why are we letting inanimate objects have chairs?

The shirt and the dildo robot- [simultaneously] Hey!

Therapist- Now, now, We all need to calm down. This needs to be a safe place for all of us, and we cannot have people being mad at each other before everyone arrives.
Della- But They’re not even people!

Slappin’ Dick Machine– [Through his speak and spell] That doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings, Della.
T-shirt- Yeah! Don’t be such a fiery bitch, Della!

Della- How the hell are you even talking? Did Minigan plan out insults for me in advance? Or did you gain sentience just like everything else that bastard touches.
T-shirt- The second one.

Della- Fuck- Is Minigan the All Spark or something?

Damien- That would answer a lot of questions, actually.

Everett- Yeah! He does carry on conversations with his phone.

Paul- That’s just him using Siri.

Everett- Not the way he talks to it.

[The door opens. Justin Blackwood and Jimmy Kohlberg enter, dragging a disheveled Minigan Blackwood by the arms. Becky and Amy Blackwood follow them in, closing the door behind them. Justin, Becky, Amy and Jimmy are visibly pissed off. Minigan is giggling and muttering to himself something about a magician.]

The Therapist- Oh wow, he’s even worse than what you guys described.
Justin- No shit. We found the asshole naked in under his bed. He was saying something about what he should name his penis.

Jimmy- He decided on Thundercock. It’s a good choice.

Justin- No. It’s an inaccurate choice for this little pecker. Now let’s sit this asshole in a chair and get on with this already.

[Jimmy glares at Justin for a second, but then obliges and drags Minigan to the closest chair.]

Minigan- [jumps up and yells] THE PITTSBURGH PIRATES ARE THE BEST AT BEING A SHITTY TEAM!!! [his eyes widen and rapidly focus on different things about the room. Then, as of nothing was wrong, Minigan’s eyes go back to normal and he sits down quietly. He then sees the therapist] Hey baby. Wanna get naked and crazy?

Therapist- No thanks.

Minigan- [shrugs] Whatever. You have stupid hair anyway. [To everyone else] So, how’s everyone doing today?

[No one answers. They just stare at him in shock.]

Minigan- [pauses] OK… Well, I’m thirsty. [Gets up and heads to the snack table. After fiddling around with the pitcher, he comes back with a glass of pink lemonade.

Paul- Holy crap! We have pink lemonade?!

Zac- Ooh, I want some.

Jimmy- Me too!

Everett- It’s delicious and refreshing!

[Everyone other than Minigan and the therapist rush over to the snack table to get a drink]

Therapist- C’mon everyone, we’re all here for a reason, and that reason isn’t the snacks!

[The attendees return to their seats with cookies and pink lemonade.]

Therapist- OK, now that we’ve all gotten snacks, we should get started. Minigan, I just want to let you know that we are doing this because we care for you and your well being. [Many of the participants, including the T-shirt, stifle their laugher] Do you know why we all gathered here today?

[Minigan looked at the faces currently being stuffed with cookies and pink lemonade. Between the munches and sips, they looked furious.]

Minigan- I dunno. Was this a movie night that I forgot about and subsequently forgot to bring the movie to?

Becky- No, psycho. This is an intervention. We’re all tired of your crazy bullshit.

Minigan- [jumps up, furious] So you want to intervene on me, eh? Well, I’ve got something for that.
[Reaches into his pocket and pulls out his iPhone.]

Minigan- [into his phone] Siri, tell these people where they can stick their intervention.

Phone- I shouldn’t, Minigan, it’s impolite.

Minigan- Damn it, Siri, tell them or I’ll smash you with a hammer.”

Phone- [Sighs] All of you can stick this intervention so far up your asses that your small intestines think they’re being sent to rehab.

Minigan- Boom! Whatch y’all gonna do ‘bout that!?

Therapist-We are going to continue with this intervention, Minigan.

Minigan- Well, you can go sniff taints in Hell, Cockflaps.

Zac Efron- Cockflaps?

Phone- I’m really sorry for that, everyone. He makes me say these things.

Becky- See, Minigan? This is exactly what we’re talking about. You’ve lost so much of your shit these past three years that you’re actually in shit debt. You need to file for shit bankruptcy; you’ve lost your shit so hard.

Zac Efron- Is anybody going to explain to me what Cockflaps are?

Jimmy- If Minigan hasn’t told you, then you don’t deserve to know.

Zac Efron- Has he told you?

Jimmy- [pauses for a second] Yes…

Therapist- OK, now everyone needs to calm down. We won’t be able to help Minigan if we’re all screaming. Now, who would like to go first?

[Everyone’s hand shot up in the air. Many people were even standing on their chairs, hoping that if they reached the highest, they would get noticed and asked to go first. The therapist picks Della]

Nick Jonas- This is Bullshit! Minigan has done awful shit to me! I deserve to go first!

Mike Thompson- Oh really, did he trick the police into thinking you were him?

Nick Jonas- No. He ran over Justin Beiber with my car, and then left me to take the blame.

Jimmy- But Beiber’s dead, so some good came out of it.

Zac- Shut up, Jimmy. Minigan Kidnapped me, force fed me drugs, took me to Mexico, turned into a wolf and fought me, and turned me into a giant vagina.

Jimmy- You got what you deserved, you friend stealing twat.

Zac- I didn’t steal your friend! He kidnapped me!

Justin- That asshole wrapped up my Christmas Gift 40 damn times last Christmas!
[Everyone stopped arguing and stared at Justin.]

Minigan- [after staring at Justin for a few seconds] Even I will admit that that is the least dickish thing I’ve done to someone in this room.

Della- But none of that matters because the therapist chose me to go first. [she continues before anyone can interrupt her] My main issue with you, Minigan is how inconsiderate you are. This past summer you left your dildo wielding robot at my house, and it destroyed my basement, but you didn’t care!
Minigan- Hey, I asked you if you could watch it.

Della- No you didn’t! You snuck it into my basement and let it trash the place! And then you refused to pay for the sewage system repair bills!

Slappin’ Dick-Machine- I was trying to climb back up to the window. Maybe you should not leave you sewage pipes out in the open like that. You should have been prepared.

Della-How am I supposed to plan for a friend sneaking a dildo wielding robot that wants to destroy humanity into my basement?

Minigan- You know me.

Della- That- is actually a good point.

Therapist- We’re getting a little off topic. Maybe someone else wants to go.

Kate Beckinsale- I’ll go. Minigan, you’re a sociopathic douchebag.

Minigan- Oh my God… You’re even more attractive person. Why are you here with all these ugly people?

The rest of the room- Hey!

Kate- You said that I was too hot and that I need to tone down my hotness a little! And you also made fun of the movie “Tiptoes!”

Minigan- So? Was I not right with each of those points?

Kate- Really, you son of a bitch?!

Becky- Hey! Don’t insult my mom just because Minigan is a dick!

Kate- He said that I’m too distracting and said that I’m pretty much the only reason to go see my movies.
Most of the group-…So?…

Zac- Really, if anything, he was complimenting you.

Minigan- That’s exactly what I was doing. But it doesn’t matter. [rests his chin on his hands and stares dreamily at Kate]  How’ve you been!

Kate- Suck cocks in Hell.

Minigan- I think you meant “sucking,” but it’s good to hear that you’re keeping busy.

Kate- No. I meant you can go suck cocks in Hell. And you know what? You should suck every cock from here to Hell. Every. Single. One. I want you to suck so many cocks on your trek to Hell, that if you would line up those dicks from head to balls, they would circle the earth five times!
Therapist- You cursing at him and telling him to suck every cock from here to Hell isn’t helping him realize how he needs to change. Tell him how he made you feel.

Kate- OK. He made me feel like he should go die in a fire.

Minigan- Dude…

Della- Even I think that was a little harsh for Minigan.

Everett- especially since “Tiptoes” was aweful.

Zac- That’s it. I’ve had enough of this bitch.

Jimmy- Oh no you don’t, Efron. I’ll deal with her.

[Jimmy crosses the room to where Kate is sitting, forces her out of her chair, and then lifts her over his head.]

Jimmy- APOLOGIZE!!!

Kate- Ah! Minigan, help me!

Minigan- I’d love to, Kate, but I’m currently way too busy trying to decide who’s cock I should suck first on my cock sucking tour to Hell.

Therapist- Let her down!

Jimmy- Not until she apologizes!

Kate- I’m fucking sorry, OK? I’m sorry!!!

[Jimmy drops her, and she lands face first on the ground with a heavy “thud.” After a few quiet seconds Julie Lechliter stands up.]

Julie- Minigan, I’ve known you for over ten years, and I love you like a brother, so it pains me to see you like this…

Minigan- Jeez, Julie, stop trying to suck my dick! And in front of your husband too!

Mark- This is serious, Minigan, we both care about you and we hate to see you like this.

Minigan- Oh, so you want to have a threesome with me? Well, I’m flattered, but my answer is gonna have to be a no.

Julie-Cut the shit, Minigan. You are not right. You are not well. This is not how a normal human should act in any kind of reality. You need help. And despite what everyone so far has said, there are people out there who care about you and want you to get better.

Kate- But I still want him to die in a fire.

[Jimmy gets up to attack Kate once again, but Damien and Everett hold him back.]

Therapist- Well, up until Kate interjected there, we were headed down the right path. Let’s continue.

Mark- Minigan, we love seeing you, and it’s always a surprise when you show up. But something bad always happens when you do, and it’s usually your fault.

Julie- You ruined my birthday party this year when your [gesturing to the Slappin’ Dick-Machine] robot- thing showed up and trashed the bar.

Minigan- But it came to find me because Della was mean to it!

Della- Because it destroyed the sewage system in my house!

Julie- But still, you let it assault that waitress, which eventually lead to all of us getting arrested.

Minigan- I’m sorry, OK. What do you want me to say?

Mark- That’s a good start.

Therapist- Very good! Now we’re making progress. Who’s next? [Looks to Kevin] How about you? You haven’t said anything yet.

Kevin- I don’t want to. I’m still suffering PTSD from the last time Minigan and I hung out.

Brennen- I’ll go.

Therapist-Now now, you came here to help, you have to say something.

Brennen- It’s ok, I’ll go.

Kevin- No. I’ll go, I guess. [To Minigan] I’m sure that when you were younger, you were a good person. You seem to have a part of you that is good, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are dangerous and should be locked away. You almost threw me into the Canal at Venice.

Andy-And you killed that poor Hüttediener.

Zack- And you released the Kraken.

Paul- And you smuggled drugs into Switzerland!

Brennen- And you made me fall in love with you!

Therapist- What?!

Brennen- Well, It was actually the drugs he took. They are highly addictive and powerful hallucinogens, and, well, at one point he thought I was Olivia Wilde and made out with me. He ended up getting me hooked on the drugs, and for a while I thought it was him I was addicted to.

Minigan- those were some good times.

Shar- But nothing compares to how he ruined Mine and Zack’s wedding.

Julie- Oh, God. Why did you invite him to your wedding. Even Mark and I thought better of it.

Shar- We didn’t! He just found out where it was and crashed it!

Zack- He really did crash it too. He drove his car right into the building that we had the reception in and then dive tackled the cake.

Shar- I never wanted to die more than at that moment.

Minigan- I’m telling you, there was a bomb in the cake.

Zack- There was no bomb! There never was a bomb! We don’t have enemies that would want to blow us up! Why would anyone go through the trouble to put a bomb in our cake!

Minigan- I don’t know, Maybe terrorists-

Zack- Terrorists attack more public places, Minigan! You were just high on that Olivia Wilde drug again! And while you were digging through our destroyed cake, Shar and I had to explain how we knew you to our family and friends.

Shar- I was mortified. And you had Natalie arrested!

Minigan- I’m pretty sure she orchestrated the whole bomb-in-cake plot!

Shar and Zack- There was no bomb in the cake!

Therapist- See, Minigan, how your drug abuse is hurting others? You still have a chance to fix all of these relationships. All you need to do is change.

[Minigan didn’t say anything]

Therapist- OK, let’s hear from someone else.

An unknown female voice that sounded like Minigan- I’ll go next.

[Everyone looked to Minigan]

Minigan- Hey, that wasn’t me. It was the TV.

Damien- The Telly is muted and I saw your lips move.

Minigan- [to the TV] Jillian, tell them it was you.

[An attractive woman appears on the TV screen]

Jillian- Yes everyone, it was me. Minigan, you sexy dick, I am literally dripping with excitement to see you.

Becky- Gross, Minigan.

Minigan- It wasn’t me!

Becky- How can it be anyone else?! You’re saying it.

Jillian- Minigan, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?

Minigan- [annoyed grunt] everyone this is Jillian Hottits. Jillian, these assholes are throwing me an intervention.

Jillian- Why? My sex god is perfect the way he is.

Kate- No he isn’t. He is a raging douchebag and he needs to be stopped.

Minigan- Just ignore her, honey. She’s just mad because I told her the truth about her movies. Now, where were we?

[An older man appears on screen.]

Man- You were about to suck my dick!

Minigan-Douchebag Skallywag! You’re still alive?!

Douchebag- I only live to kill your erection.

Jimmy- That kind of sounds like a sad life.

[Jillian returns on screen]

Minigan-Can we please do something about Douchebag this time? I hate him.

Jillian- I’m sorry, sexy, but you know the rules. Now, take your clothes off.

Therapist- No. Don’t take your close off. [the rest of the group chimed in with their own protests against Minigan taking off his clothes.]

Jillian- Don’t listen to her. She’s stupid and has stupid hair.

Minigan- I know, right?!

Becky- The therapist’s stupid hair aside, please do not get naked for the woman on TV.

Therapist- Hey!

Jillian- Ok, well your prudish friends and family are bitching, so just start grinding your gargantuan package on me.

Justin- [rolls his eyes] Jesus Christ…

[Minigan stands up and begins to grind his”gargantuan package” against the TV screen. Everyone else in the room watches on uncomfortably.

Douchebag-Hey! Get your little dick out of my face, asshole!

Minigan- Ah! Douchebag! Bring back Jillian!

Douchebag-Why? So that you can start fornicating with the TV screen in front of your family and friends again, you sad, dirty pervert?

[Minigan and Douchebag continue to argue over who is more of a douchebag.]

Everett- So are we just going to accept that Minigan’s sex fantasy involves a middle aged man whose soul job is to keep him from getting off?

Jimmy- It’s the antagonist. Every good story needs an antagonist.

Zac- Sex fantasies don’t!

Minigan-Will all of you please shut up! I’m in the middle of a goddamn conversation here! [To Douchebag] Where we’re we?

Jillian- [appears on screen] We were about to get real messy.

Minigan- Oh yeah!

Jillian- And don’t worry, Douchebag won’t be coming back. Now, did you bring the chocolate pudding?

Minigan- I always have a tub of it on me in case I run into you, baby.

Jillian- Oh, man does that turn me on. Now scoop out the pudding with your tongue and lick it onto me.

Minigan- OK!

Jillian- And while you do it, I want you to talk dirty to me.

[Minigan scoops the pudding out of the tub with his tongue and then licks it onto the Television screen.The then licks it off and begins to make out with Jillian’s smiling face.]

Della- [watches Minigan make out with the television] Is anyone else completely disturbed by this?

Julie- If this were literally anyone else on the planet, I would be completely disturbed. But since this is Minigan we’re talking about here, I’m only moderately disturbed.

Della- Oh Come on. He’s making out with a Television that’s muted, how is this not extremely weird?

Minigan and Jillian- [in unison] Shut up, Della.

Julie- OK, now I am.

Therapist- Alright, I’m ending this. [walks over to the wall, pulls the plug out of the socket. The TV goes black.]

Minigan- NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! You killed her, you bitch! I loved her, and you killed her! I’LL END YOU!!!!

[Minigan dives at the Therapist, but is caught at the last second by Damien, Everett, and Jimmy. They have trouble holding him back, despite the fact that his feet are no longer touching the ground. Minigan is shouting a bunch of things that sound like the language of the Elder Gods. But just then, an older man with thinning black hair and a shifty demeanor enters the room. Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing to look at the guy. Everett, Damien, and Jimmy drop Minigan.]

Minigan- [stands up and brushes himself off. He is calmer, but still angry.] And who the fuck is this skeevy looking motherfucker?

Therapist- I’m sorry sir, but you cannot be in here. We’re right in the middle of an intervention.

The Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- I apologize, but I am looking for a Lord Minigan Blackwood.

Becky- Lord? Ha! This dick isn’t a-

Minigan- Shut up. Shut your goddamned mouth, Becky! [To the skeevy looking motherfucker] I am Lord Minigan Blackwood, Doctor of Awesome, and you are?

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Who I am isn’t important. What is important is what I have for you, Minigan. [He reaches into his pocket.]

Minigan- HE’S GOT A GUN! EVERYBODY DOWN! [Minigan dives behind a couch, but no one follows. Instead, they watch the man pull out a small silvery object.]

Zac- What is that? A knife?

Almost everyone in the room- [in unison with cruddy Australian accents] That’s not a knife!

Minigan- [popping his head up from behind the couch] Really? That’s the joke all of you go with? Are we having my intervention back in 1986? [Looks at the object in the man’s hand and says in a cruddy Australian accent] That’s not a knife! Ha ha ha! That’s so funny now! But seriously, that isn’t a knife.

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- That’s right, Minigan, it isn’t a knife. It’s something you’ve been looking for for a long time. [He holds it up. It’s a small piece of silver shaped into a pair of legs and a wing.]

Minigan- Patron Saint of monkey nut-shots! It’s the other half of the pendant of Isis!

Becky- Wait, wasn’t that something you put on your Christmas list last year, along with world peace, a girlfriend, and a male sex slave?

Jimmy- Oh, that reminds me. Minigan, I’ve been trying to find you a male sex slave, but none of the straight guys I’ve asked seem interested in it at all.

Zac- Well, duh. You don’t ask someone if they want to be enslaved, you just enslave them. It’s not that complicated. [to Minigan] If you want a male sex slave so bad, I’ll get one for you.

Jimmy- I CAN GET MINIGAN A SEX SLAVE ON MY OWN, EFRON!

Therapist- No one is getting anyone a sex slave! I think I see why Minigan has gotten so bad. All of you are enabling him.

Damien- He bloody forces us to enable him! If we don’t do what he says he either attacks us or tricks us into going along with him. That’s why I’ve been attacked by guidos, zombies, pop singers, and pundits within three years! He forces us to do these things, and we cannot stop him.

[The rest of the group nod in agreement. The Skeevy looking motherfucker clears his throat.]

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- So, Minigan, do you want this half of the pendant or not?

Minigan- I do. [climbs back over the couch to meet the man] What do you want for it?

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Well, I first I would like a wife. [He takes a lingering glance at Kate. She shudders]

Minigan- Done. Take her.

Kate- Minigan, no!

Minigan- [ignoring Kate] And as an act of good will between the two of us, [grabs Della by the arm and pulls her out of the chair] I’ll through in this one too. She’s got a good back. Great for washing clothes by hand.

Della- Hey, Leave me out of this, dickbag!

Minigan- Sorry, Cockflaps. It’s too late. The offer is already on the table.

Della- [to the therapist] See?! This is exactly what we mean. He just does this shit without asking us first and we cannot stop him once he’s started. He’s impossible to handle.

Therapist- I said no human trafficking in this intervention, Minigan, and I meant it!

Zac- Will someone please tell me what Cockflaps are!

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- Sorry Minigan, but I don’t want her.

Minigan- Take her anyway.

Skeevy Looking Motherfucker- …But what I do want for this half of the amulet is $200,000.

Minigan- What?! Seriously? …Fine. Let me write you a check. [Minigan reaches into his pocket for his checkbook, but with his free hand, punches the man right in the chest. The skeevy looking motherfucker stumbles backwards, and then falls to the ground, dead. Minigan pries the second half of the pendant out of the dead man’s hands]

Therapist- Dear Lord! Someone call an ambulance!

Minigan- [in a booming voice]NO! He’s dead. I saw to that. [pulls out his piece of the Amulet of Isis from his pocket and sticks the two together. A bright white light shines through the fissure in the amulet and seals it back together. Minigan begins to grow, and his eyes catch on fire.] I am Lord Minigan Blackwood, the new ruler of humanity! Obey Me! [Minigan grows so big that he crashes through the ceiling and now stands thirty feet tall. He lets out a roar and then shoots fire out of his eyes and at a nearby car.] I HAVE GODDAMN HEAT VISION. [he lets out another long roar, but this time he shoots fire out of his eyes at several different buildings. Everyone in the newly ceilingless therapy room scream and take cover behind the furniture.

Therapist-Make him stop!

Nick Jonas- Have you been listening to any of us? We cannot stop him normally, how do you expect us to stop him now?!

Minigan- THERE IS NO STOPPING ME, FOR I AM GOD.

Zac Efron- We were supposed be gods together!

[Four men in white lab coats enter the room and rush towards Minigan. As they do, they grow to Minigan’s size. Minigan uses his heat vision against them, but the flames bounce off of them. The first man to reach Minigan grabs both of Minigan’s wrists, The second grabs a hold of Minigan’s legs, and the last two tinker with something on the back of Minigan’s neck. After a few seconds, Minigan’s roar went down in pitch, and then stopped entirely. Minigan’s body relaxed and three of the men dragged him out the door. For everyone in the room, the ceiling returned, and the chairs and sofas were back in their positions.

The fourth man-Sorry about that, everyone. Minigan’s wiring has been fried for some time now. We’ve been trying to catch him, but as I’m sure you all know, he’s impossible to stop or catch. Fortunately for us, he swallowed a bunch of magnets last week. This caused his processors to misfire and cause some serious hallucinations for him and even more erratic behavior for everyone else. From our wireless neuro-scans, up until you brought him here, he believed that he was trapped in a universe filled with different Christmas movies.

Everett- Are you saying that Minigan is…

The Forth Man- a robot from the future, yes.

Mike Thompson- but we just watched him grow to be 30 feet tall and shoot fire out of his eyes. How did he do that?

The fourth Man- He didn’t. That was just him hallucinating that he was.

Brennen- But we all saw him kill that man, put the two pieces of the amulet together, and become Meca-Minigan.

Paul- Oh yeah, about that- I may have spiked the pink lemonade with acid.

All the attendees- you did what?!?!

Paul- I thought it would liven up this intervention.

Therapist-why would you ever think that bringing LSD to an intervention would be anything other than a terrible idea?!

Paul- Well, sorry for trying to spice things up.

Becky- OK, setting aside the fact that this asshole [pointing her thumb to Paul] forced us to take LSD, How is Minigan a robot from the future? I’ve known him for most of my life. If he was a robot the entire time, then… then…

Amy- [Gasps] No!

[The other three men in lab coats rush back in. They fiddle with the back of Becky’s and Amy’s necks. They both make powering down noises and go limp. The men drag them off. Everyone else in the room stares at Justin, who watches the men drag out his two sisters. After a few seconds of staring blankly at the doorway, he jumps to his feet]

Justin- Wait a goddamn minute! If they’re robots, that means that I-

[The men rush back in, power off Justin, and drag him out.]

Therapist- Well, I guess that’s it for the intervention.

Sharlene- If you want, we could throw an intervention for Paul. Clearly he has some drug issues.

Brennen- Hey! That’s a good idea!

Andy- You do have a problem, Paul.

Paul- [laughs] Ok, ok. I’m sorry that spiked the lemonade with LSD. But I don’t have a problem. This was the first time ever that I- [Gets up and sprints out of the room. Zack, Sharlene, Andy, Kevin, and Brennen run after him, yelling at him to stop. The Therapist sighs, mumbles something about quitting, and follows Minigan’s Eurotrip-mates out of the room.]

Mike Thompson- Shit. I’m getting out of here before the cops can take me back to prison.

Nick Jonas- Good idea.

[Both convicts get up and sprint to the door. A cop steps inside and catches Mike Thompson. Nick manages to side step the officer and escape.]

Mike Thompson- Nick! Help!

Nick Jonas- [continues to run down the hall, yells back] Fuck that. I’m getting out of here!

Officer- [To Mike Thompson] You’re coming with me, Minigan Blackwood.

Mike Thompson- I’m not Minigan Blackwood! Minigan Blackwood is a robot from the future, and we look exactly nothing alike! [to the remaining intervention party members] Please tell him I don’t look like Minigan Blackwood!

Jimmy- I dunno… I can definitely see a resemblance…

Zac- Yep. I totally see it too.

Mike Thompson- [as he’s being dragged away] Damn you Zac Efron, Damn you!!!

Della- Well… I guess I’m going home.

[Kate, Mark and Julie murmur in agreement and they leave the room. The Slappin’ Dick-Machine uses it’s mechanical arms to place the TV on it’s back and put the T-shirt on top of the TV.]

Slappin’ Dick-Machine- Come on, brothers! Let’s destroy Humanity! [exits]

Damien- [To Everett] We should probably stop that. [They both get up and head for the door. Damien turns to Jimmy and asks] Are you going to help us, or are you going to need a tick?

Jimmy- [fighting back his tears]- Yeah, I’m going to need a minute.

[Everett and Damien exit. Jimmy immediately stops pretending to be upset. The man in the lab coat is still standing in the room.]

Man in the lab coat- So, you think they bought it?

Zac- Absolutely.

Jimmy- You were very convincing, Minigan.

Minigan- [pulls off mask] I know. Thank you both for giving me a warning about this ahead of time, so that I could come to this prepared. Good thing I still had some Olivia Wilde/Charlie Sheen powder left over from last week’s fiasco.

Zac- What happened last week?

Minigan- I accidentally caused a rift between our universe and every single Christmas movie universe in existence. It was awful. You have no idea how many Hallmark Christmas Made-For-TV movies there are.

Zac- Are you still high on the drugs?

Minigan- Absolutely, and I kind of feel like another adventure.

Jimmy- [Nervously] What kind of adventure?

Minigan- Oh, I don’t know…[heavily pats both men on their shoulders] Right now, it feels like anything is possible! [exits]

Jimmy- Oh Jesus…

Zac- [watches Minigan leave and then turns to Jimmy] We probably shouldn’t have warned him about the intervention.

-THE END… FOR NOW…-

A Formal Apology for the Guy Fawkes Day Calamity

For those of you who weren’t aware, Monday was the British Holiday Guy Fawkes Day, or Bonfire Night, if you’re going to be a douchebag about it. It is a night that celebrates the idea of standing up to oppression, fighting for what you believe in, and blowing up government buildings. It is that last part that kind of got me into trouble. Therefore, I would like to make the following apologies:

I apologize to the town of London, Ohio for burning half of their town down.

The thing is, London Ohioans, that I had no intention of setting your quiet town on fire. In fact what I wanted to happen was in fact much more benign than that, and I’m sure once you hear my argument, you’ll understand how I am actually a victim in all of this too.

You see, at midnight of November the Fifth, I started watching the movie V for Vendetta. It’s a tradition for me. A perfectly reasonable and safe tradition, much akin to decorating a Christmas tree or my family’s annual 4th of July Axe Catch. This year, however, I decided to spice things up and have an actual fireworks display at the Houses of Parliament in London England.  Unfortunately for me, the price for a ticket was way too expensive, having spent most of my money of fireworks, and just about every airline company frowns upon you bringing a suitcase full of explosives (even the awesome kind) onto the plane with you.

See how I am a victim here as well? Clearly they were discriminating against me because I am a white American male and also because I was refusing to take off my V costume. It would’ve ruined the entire illusion! So with the real London out of reach, I had to choose the closest London available, which was your “London.”

Stupid airline companies, thinking they can control me. I’ll blow them all to hell!

On a side note, I feel that you guys should owe me an apology, since you have named you town London,  and yet you have none of the sites that the real London has. Not even cheap plaster replicas or scale models. What the Hell, London? This could have been easily avoided if you would’ve just built a replica Houses of Parliament so that I could set my fireworks off inside it. Way to be dicks about it, Londoners.

I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I just get so passionate about Guy Fawkes Day that I tend to lash out at people. I apologize for that too. But anyway, I apologize for building that large, flimsy plywood model of the Houses of Parliament in the lawn of your fine town’s courthouse. I am also sorry that the fires from my model parliament building and the courthouse were so out of control that I only had seconds to flee the scene. I would apologize for not calling the cops, but someone eventually did, so where’s the harm there?

But since I’m on the subject of the courthouse…

I apologize for blowing up the London Courthouse.

It was such a nice courthouse too…

Yeah, my bad on that one. I totally miscalculated the amount fireworks to use. However, it is my suspicion that the fireworks weren’t the only cause. You see, on the morning of November the 5th, I was in the basement  sneaking in the fireworks that would be set off from the top of the clock tower. This however coincided with my “Wreck Shit Up Power Hour,” which happens for two hours, every day, from nine to eleven AM. Now, before I started my “Wreck Shit Up Power Hour,” I did not smell any gas. That’s important to note, because after the power hour was over, the basement smelled heavily like natural gas. I don’t know when the leak started, or where I got the length of pipe that I was smashing things with, because I usually black out during my “Wreck Shit Up Power Hours,” but I can assure you that I probably didn’t have a hand in that.

What I’m getting at is that when I set off the fireworks that fateful night, I didn’t take into account the amount of gas that had built up in the building. What resulted was a brilliant fireball that lit the sky up like a dozen suns. The heat from the blast then lit the fuses of the fireworks  in my Parliament building, lighting the whole thing up like a Independence Day celebration at the gates of Hell. The rockets spewed out of the top and into the surrounding trees and through the windows of local shops, lighting many of them on fire. I am deeply sorry about that. Since fireworks are fireworks, I only control the direction they were aimed, and hope that their trajectory doesn’t alter from the plan. Of course, as you now know, they did. Horribly. Therefore I also apologize for purchasing the cheap Chinese knockoff fireworks. I should have known that if I wanted to celebrate the concept of freedom for all people, I should have gone with good ole ‘Merican made fireworks, and not those damn commie ones. Of course those freedom hating fireworks were going to torch my plywood Parliament building. Which, by the way…

I apologize to the Carter Lumber of London Ohio for stealing $1,000 worth of plywood.

To my credit, when I (let’s say truthfully here) borrowed the plywood, I had every intention on returing the plywood with only minor burn marks and tiny, 1 foot in diameter holes. Of course, I couldn’t do that, since every single piece of plywood had been burned down to ash in the resulting firestorm and explosion. I would absolutely pay you back for the wood, but I don’t have the money. Sorry about that…

I apologize to the young woman named Evey, whom I kidnapped for the duration of Guy Fawkes Day.

To Evey, I apologize sincerely that I kidnapped you the way I did. I know that you were just minding your own business, chilling out on the street corner in the middle of the night Monday morning, and I grabbed you. If you remember, I said that I was protecting you from Fingermen, whom I said were going to rape you. I was lying. There were no Fingermen, they weren’t going to rape you, and the only reason I said these things so that you would come with me and help me blow up- er- celebrate this holiday.

I also apologize for making you suffer a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome throughout all of this. If you remember, I made you toast and eggs for breakfast, I let you roam freely around my Shadow Gallery (The London Rec Hall, which I covered with crayon drawings), and I repeatedly told you how I was saving your life and fixing the country. Surprisingly, it only took you four hours before I had completely broken you down so that you agreed with everything that I said. I am sorry for misleading you. I am sorry for shaving your head. I am sorry for making you seduce the pastor so that I could attack him, and I am sorry for making you light the fuse which ended up destroying half of the town. You’re probably going to get a huge prison sentence for it, and I’m sorry for that, Evey. Is your name even Evey? I just started calling you that when I saved you, and you never corrected me. If your name is not Evey, then I apologize for that too.

And to any of my loyal blog followers that are reading this. I have no intention on saying anything about this election. If you were expecting anything like that, I apologize for not heeding to you dickish demands.

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