Awesomesquad! Assemble! 2! (Revisited!)

Hi Everyone! I know it has been almost a year since I posted anything, and even longer since I posted anything book related, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. I started a new magazine with my boyfriend (check it out here), so I’ve been primarily busy writing the articles for that, and I have been working on my book, just nothing that you’ll see here. I did, however, finish the battle between Kim Kardassian and our gang of lovable idiots.

For those who have never read an Awesomesquad! post of mine before, welcome! This should be exciting for you. You’ll probably want some background info, whether you’re new or just need a refresher, so check this page out. It will give you the information you need about the team.

Other than that, enjoy!

Kim Kardassian

*****

It was about a month after I introduced Phlegm to the team before we had any celebrity fighting mission. I actually remember the date- September fifth. The date itself isn’t all that important; I’m just impressed that I remembered it.

Anyway, the guy installing our Satellite TV service had just left, and Derren, GMZ, Criss, and myself were changing back out of our cult garb. Damein, Everett, and Nut’n Fancy were out in the woods surrounding the Awesomebase!, building our obstacle course. Jessie was in the Awesomehangar! working on the Awesomecopter!, and Phlegm and Lady Smash were out buying supplies. Feeling that yet another day would be ending early for me, I headed up to the kitchen to gather up some brownies Lady Smash had baked, and then catch up on some TV. However, when I got to the Great Room, I found that the TV and the brownies had already been claimed by GMZ.

As I approached, I noticed something off. He stared at the TV, his expression blank, and he was barely holding onto the half-eaten brownie in his hand. I watched him for a few seconds, expecting him to snap out of it. He did not.

“Hey, GMZ,” I called to him.

I got no response. I repeated myself, but still didn’t even get a murmur from him.

“LISTEN UP, YOU LOUSY SACK OF DISGARDED LLAMA PLACENTA!” I yelled.

When he didn’t answer to that, I marched towards him, grumbling, and nudged the side of his head. He toppled over, but he snapped out of it.

He jumped back to his feet, his face scrunched up and red with anger, and screamed, “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT ALL I WAS DOING WAS WATCHING TV WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?!”

“Whoa,” I cried as I dodged his swinging fist, “Calm down. I was just trying to get your attention.”

“CALM DOWN?! NO I WON’T CALM DOWN!!” He took another couple swings at me, which I batted off. He then yelled in my face, “YOU ATTACK ME AND THEN SAY I NEED TO CALM DOWN.”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Derren asked as he and Criss rushed into the room. Raul came running into the room from the lab, holding a mop in one hand and a scalpel in the other.

GMZ cried, “I was just watching TV when this psychopath attacked me!”

“I nudged you!” I retorted, “And I only did that because you weren’t answering me!”

“Both of you, calm down,” Derren commanded. He then looked to GMZ and said, “Tell me what happened.”

Damien, Nut’n Fancy, and Everett entered the Great room just as GMZ started his story. GMZ told Derren how he was sitting quietly watching TV and eating a brownie, when I, in a jealous rage, stormed into the Great Room and began beating him over the head. Derren nodded and asked me to tell my side of the story. I explained to him what really happened, and while I did, Derren didn’t take his eyes of me.

Once I was finished telling my side of the story, Derren stood quietly for a couple of long seconds, and announced, “I think they’re both telling the truth.”

“What?!” GMZ roared.

Derren clarified, “I don’t think Minigan actually attacked you, GMZ. None of his body language is coming off as if he’s lying. But I think that you believe that he attacked you, because other than you being livid right now, your body language is saying the same thing.”

“No!” GMZ cried, “He did attack me. He’s just jealous of my relationship with her!”

“With whom?” Derren asked.

“With her!” GMZ shouted as he pointed at the TV screen. The six other men rushed around the couch to get a good look at whom GMZ was pointing.

I looked down to see a towering, vaguely humanoid creature stomping around in the yard. Judging by its surroundings, I figured the beast had to be at least ten feet tall. I could only assume it was a woman by its hair and clothing.

“That mountain giant?” I asked.

“No, not Khloé,” GMZ snapped at me, “Her.”

khloe Kardashian

AAahhh!

 

 

What came onto screen next made me gasp. An ass- but not just any ass- a perfect ass. It was big but toned, round but perky. It was like someone had stuck two balloons under a skimpy red dress. I could not look away. Even the rest of the body attached to the beautiful ass was amazing, but my focus kept getting pulled back to that butt. It was like it was speaking directly to me. And then, it did.

“Minigan, baby,” The ass cooed at me, its rich, smooth chocolaty voice making love to my eardrums, “Just sit down and look at me. I’ll take care of everything you need.”

I believed this ass. I believed it would take care of me. In only that brief amount of time since I had met it, I had never felt anything as strong as the love I felt for it. Even after those few short moments together, it had become more than just my world, it became the whole reason I exist. The answers to all of life’s greatest mysteries were nestled between those firm, cushiony butt cheeks, and I was sure it wanted to confide in me, so I obeyed it.

“I will do anything to make you happy” I heard my self say. I think I heard other people say it too, but they didn’t matter. They were so far away, and their voices were so small, that I knew that they weren’t talking to the stunning ass I had said it too. In fact, not a single thing those voices mattered. The only thing that was important to me anymore was keeping that ass happy.

The Ass replied in it’s deep, seductive voice, “Good. Now, what I want you to do is to send me all the money you have. I need it to make myself look good for you. You’re so handsome and muscular. I want to be the best that I can be for you.”

“What’s going on here?” I heard a faint woman’s voice say. I didn’t answer.

“Hey, guys, what’s wrong?” Another woman, this one just as uninteresting as the first, asked.

“Baby,” The Ass warned, “Two jealous she-devils are trying to keep us apart. They are here now. You must stop them, even if it means killing them. Do it, for uh-“

The world went black, and suddenly, I was thrown into a cruel, hideous world where the Ass was no longer present. In front of me were the two she-devils I was warned about: Lady Smash and Phlegm. The Betrayers! I thought, I bring them onto my team, and they take the love of my life away from me?!

I and several of the men around me screamed at them both. I was in such a mindless rage, that I cannot remember what I, or the rest of them, said, but I do remember screaming to the point where drool was running out of the side of my mouth. Looks of fear were carved onto Lady Smash and Phlegm’s faces, which only made us angrier. I lunged at Lady Smash, who dodged me, threw me to the ground, and drove her boney knee into my spine.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She yelled, the anger in her voice barely covering up the fear.

“You took The Ass away from me!” I managed to sputter out with what little air my lungs were getting.

“What?!” She, Phlegm, Criss and Derren cried.

I was starting to get a better sense of my surroundings. At the edge of my peripheral vision, I could see forms floating somewhere above Lady Smash’s head. They were the bodies of Damien and Nut’n Fancy.

“What the hell is Minigan Talking about Derren?” Phlegm asked.

“I don’t know. We were just watching ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ when they all went into some bizarre trance.”

Lady Smash grunted and replied, “Why were you watching that garbage anyway?”

“GMZ said that he was in love with someone on there, and he was trying to show us who,” Criss answered.

“Lady Smash,” I gasped, as I squirmed under her knee, “Could you ease up a little bit? I’m sorry I tried to attack you. I’m better now.”

She warned me, “If you try to attack any of us, I’m going to tase the figurative and literal shit out of you.”

“I promise I won’t,” I said with sincerity.

She released her knee from my spine, and immediately I scurried on my hands and knees to the TV and turned it back on. After an entire lifetime crammed into a single second, The Ass returned to me.

“Minigan, baby,” it cooed seductively, “I missed you.”

 

The voice wafted out of The Ass and into my ears, assuring me that it would take care of me, and I was lost to it again.

Kim Kardashian 1-censored

I tried to reach for it, just to touch it and let it know that I was real and there for it, but it vanished and I felt a wave of burning pain crash through my muscles. I tried to scream, but my jaw, vocal chords, lungs, and brain stopped working. My arms and legs twitched as the Great room came back into view. Lady Smash, Phlegm, Derren, and Criss were standing over me, and a pair of wires lead from somewhere in my chest to Lady Smash’s Taser. Then, everything went black.

The Worst Commercials Currently on TV (Part 2)

Hey Everybody! I’m not dead! I know that most of you were probably worried, and maybe some of you were hoping it to be true. I’ll even bet that some of you were a little disappointed that you didn’t get to do the job yourself. Well, I’m not dead, so I think we should all be relieved. That is, unless you were hoping I was dead- in which case, why are you even reading my blog? Man, you have some serious misplaced priorities.

The truth is that since October, I have been busy doing a shit load of writing, It’s just that none of that has been for this blog. I’ve been working on my novel: Awesomesquad! Assemble! The Novel! Which I am still working on and hope to get finished this year (which means that my blog posts will be sporadic until then). Also, I have been writing for two TV shows. One is called VR, and is currently on hiatus, and the other is called The Chosen Ones, and technically, that one isn’t on hiatus. It’s hard to explain the situation with that show. As it turns out, writing for a small production company isn’t the most reliable of writing jobs. You think TV shows would make that point more apparent.

Liz Lemon has made fools of us all.

Liz Lemon has made fools of us all.

But none of that is why I’m writing this today. Instead, I’d like to talk about TV commercials. As someone who has written  scripts for the part of TV that people actually want to pay attention to while surfing the internet, I imagine that writing a script for a commercial must be a pretty thankless job. You have to create a situation with dialogue that promotes a product without being too pushy about it, and have characters or the situation itself be memorable enough to stick in the viewer’s brains long enough for them to buy the product you’re trying to sell to them. And all of this has to be done in thirty seconds to a minute. That is about a page of script, max. That is not a lot of space to get that done.

On the very rare occasion that it’s successful in doing all that, people will raise it up as a testament to brilliant marketing. It could even become a meme, which is the best thing you as an advertiser could hope for. But when it’s bad, your commercial will be ridiculed. The heartless monsters lurking around the internet, who have no joy in their lives and must spread their misery onto everything they come into contact with like some horrible bad vibes plague, will pounce on the advertisement you worked so hard on creating and bludgeon it to death with their evil, hateful words.

Guess which of these two scenarios is about to happen now.

KFC- How do you KFC

For those of you who inexplicably don’t know what KFC is, it is a fried chicken restaurant chain. And for those same people, I have a series of questions about your bizarre up bringing that lead you to this blog before introducing you to the artery clogging deliciousness that is Kentucky Fried Chicken. For instance, are you from a county that the US hasn’t already culturally invaded? And which country is that? I’m totally asking out of curiosity, and not to see to it that we corrode your will against us by introducing you to our fattening cuisine.

Anyway, take a look at this KFC Commercial:

Here’s my problem with this commercial: as I mentioned earlier, everyone has heard of KFC, even if you haven’t eaten there (although, that is still difficult to imagine as an American, since they are fucking everywhere). If you’re making video blogs about your amazing culinary adventures, why in the extra crispy, batter dipped hell would you visit KFC once, let alone three times. How are there no more interesting restaurants where you live that you have to rely on a national chicken chain to fill three days’ video blogs? I can think of four restaurants in my town that would make for a better food blog, and my town is mainly populated by roaming gangs of possums and deer.

And of course the chicken tastes good. It wouldn’t be a national chain if it didn’t. But since it’s a national chain, that means that 99% of your viewers have also eaten there, and therefore are bored by your new-found amazement of KFC.  . There is absolutely no reason for you to mention a chain restaurant in your food blog. I’m not saying that as a writer that knows what good content looks like (even though I kind of am), I’m saying it as a potential viewer who has no interest in your love for fast food chicken strips. You’re not letting anyone in some unknown culinary gem, you’re just wasting everyone’s time and valuable internet space that could have been filled with niche porn and pictures of cats.

But the worst part about all of this is that these women aren’t alone. According to KFC commercials, there are a staggering number of people who have discovered KFC after the internet, blogging, and smartphones:

Did you watch that last one? The guy in it was genuinely amazed at the sorcery of KFC’s pot pies, as if it were impossible in any form of reality for a chicken restaurant to come up the idea to sell chicken pot pies. However, in another commercial, KFC claimed to have sold since the 1970’s. So according to KFC, their loyal fans are tech savvy enough to film and edit their own video blogs, yet so behind the times that they neither watch TV nor have ever heard of a KFC before. Or worse: They could be so uncreative that for them, KFC is an adventure. KFC is not an adventure, unless you consider high cholesterol an adventure. And that goes for you too, Dairy Queen.

Butterfinger Cups- Therapist

First of all, this has to be the worst marriage counselor ever. I’m pretty sure knowingly having a guy lurking around in your office in the middle of a couple’s therapy session breaches the patient-doctor confidentiality agreement, doctor. Secondly, How the hell is an impromptu three-way that the husband isn’t totally on board for supposed to help with their relationship? This couple has a serious problem: their major desires for their relationship aren’t matching up. Chocolate clearly wants something new, but Peanut butter is happy where he is. That’s going to take some work getting through, and surprising the Peanut butter with a two dude three-way isn’t exactly going to help solve the couple’s problems. In fact, it could make things worse. There is a serious lack of communication and compromise coming from both parties, and what they need more than having sex with a strange guy that their therapist set them up with is to actually find something new to do that they’ll both enjoy.
But let’s take a step back for a second. These are just characters in a commercial. Who cares about whether or not chocolate and peanut butter’s marriage is about to go to hell? They’re just characters. That’s right- they all are just characters, each one designed by Butterfinger’s add agents. So, why did they choose such a skeevy looking man to play Butterfinger? Seriously, look at the guy. He looks like the kind of person who would own a whole fleet of rape vans.

Maybe even an armada. Who knows?

Everything about a messy haired man in a track suit gives off a sex offender vibe.

The man is greasy looking, unkempt, obviously a pervert, and worst of all, a track suit enthusiast. Who would let this man join a threeway? Apparently the doctor thought it was a good idea, but I’ve already pointed out how shitty of a psychiatrist this schnitzel eating (His accent is German, because apparently Sigmund Freud is the only psychologist worth trusting) douche is. This makes me wonder if Butterfinger is secretly run by Scientologists (They think psychology is a pseudoscience. Try to keep up).

Geico and M&Ms

OK, I actually like this commercial, but sometimes you have to destroy the things you love, so here we go.

The main problem here is that, while yes, it’s a great strategy for two unrelated companies to work together on a commercial both financially and to create a memorable ad, it will make the consumers needlessly associate M&M’s with Geico. How is that supposed to help either demographic of people in search of either the product or service? Is some uninsured driver going to stop once he sees a package of M&Ms and realize the error of his ways? Is this going to make someone actually looking for an insurance quote buy M&M’s off of Amazon? Probably not, but that doesn’t mean that the connections they’ve forced upon us are any more necessary.
Also, if it wasn’t for the “Chocolate’s better with M” card, it would be difficult to tell what this commercial was selling. There are far more references to Geico commercials than there are to M&Ms, so you could be forgiven if that’s what you thought the commercial was trying to sell.

Gamefly- Be Amazing

If you pay attention, everything in that house, (and subsequently, everything that Griffin crashes into) are outdated, or at least not something that a man in his mid to late twenties would be interested in. So that must mean that everything that Griffin destroyed belongs to an older relative to either of those men, who now have to figure out a way to replace all of that crap because by the end of the commercial, Blake is attempting to fly back into the destroyed TV, not giving a single fuck about all the property he destroyed.
But there’s something even worse here: Griffin is trying to convince the guys to get a subscription to Gamefly, a videogame rental service, after destroying the TV. That TV is one of the bulky, Cathode ray tube Television sets, a type that has been obsolete for going over 10 years now. The particular TV set in the commercial is one with dials, which has been outdated since the 80s. If this really was one of those men’s house, then he clearly did not have enough money to update his 30+ year old television, let alone buy a game console that probably wouldn’t be compatible to that old ass TV anyway. So, instead of sitting there like a dumbass while a basketball player wrecked his house, one of those men should have said, “I would love to get a subscription to Gamefly, but It looks like all my money is going to be going to  fixing my house and buying a new TV that you just destroyed, you thoughtless prick.”

Old Spice- Meeting

The video starts off normally enough (relatively speaking), a dude with an obviously fake hair piece looks across the board-meeting table to his sexy female coworker. But then the commercial quickly turns into an old Simpson’s Treehouse of Horror episode, when the man’s hair climbs off his head begins to flirt with the woman. We can assume this because the woman giggles and writes down her number instead of shrieking in terror and setting the abomination on fire- you know, the reaction any sane person would do in that situation. If you see a woman react the way this woman did, then you to keep the fuck away from her, because she’s serial killer and she will absolutely gut you and add you to her collection of taxidermied  horrors.

I’m really not even sure what this commercial is all about, since I couldn’t see anything other than the manifestation of one of my darkest nightmares and I couldn’t hear anything beyond the screams of a million angry souls.

Dannon Greek Yogurt- Seeing John Stamos

Let’s just get the biggest issue out of the way: This is blatant false advertising. This yogurt does not turn the next person you see into John Stamos. I even tested this out to be sure. See, I have a certain item on my bucket list that requires John Stamos (I want to hatefully spit in his mouth), and although this technically wouldn’t be John Stamos, I figured it would be close enough for my liking. But no, every asshole that I looked at after eating Dannon’s stupid Greek yogurt still looked like their normal-ass selves. And there wasn’t even an asterisk anywere to indicate that it wasn’t possible. You win this round, John Stamos, but one day you’ll slip up. And on that day I’ll be there to spit in your mouth.

Some day, Stamos, some day...

Some day, Stamos, some day soon…

The other thing that really bothered me about this is the fact that if we are witnessing two couples, then we are witnessing two wives that find their husbands so unattractive that only magic yogurt can make them tolerable to look at. There is no reason they should react in such disgust; they’re married, they should have seen each other naked at least once by now. And no, the husband is not attractive, and he is a little bit on the creepy side, but those are observations that she should have made on the first date. She’s obviously not attracted to him, and he does seem like he’s be annoying as shit, so why didn’t they get a divorce years ago. Shit, these two make Chocolate and Peanut Butter from earlier look like soulmates. She’s going to need a lot more yogurt than that if she wants him to throw his dick in her, because unless she can come within the five seconds after penetration, Stamos is going to turn back into her farmer’s tan, buck toothed husband. That’ll make her pussy dry up faster than an ill prepared jogger on Mercury.

How great of timing did the husband have, by the way? If he would have come in fifteen seconds later, those women would have eaten each the yogurt while staring at each other. Remember, it’s the next person they see after they eat the yogurt that turns, and both women were ready to dig in when the husband interrupted in his awkward swimsuit. Were we about to witness two women kiss? OR two John Stamoses kiss? Was this all an elaborate trick by the one woman? I guess we’ll never know, thanks to the gross, twat swatting husband.

OK everyone, I’m done for now. Hopefully I’ll have something for you soon.

Peace

Awesomesquad! Assemble! 8.2! Revenge of the Fame Monster

If you’ve never read an Awesomesquad! post before, then you should probably check out the roster, But this is part 2 of a section, so you might just want to read Part 1 instead.

For everyone that has read 8.1!, Here’s a refresher: It was Late February 2011, and I had spent the past 6 months looking for a lost teammate, when Damien and Phlegm talk me into joining the team on a mission. The mission was to save a bunch of hostages from Charlie Sheen, but as it turned out, it was a trap that Lady Gaga had set for me. She killed Raul, and then had her army of Monsters subdue me and attack the rest of Team Pugnsastics. We had narrowly escaped into the Awesomebus!, when Gaga jumped onto the roof.

 

OK, now that everyone is on the same page, enjoy this whirlwind of insanity that is Awesomesquad! Assemble!.

The Bus lurched forward and threw everyone into their seats. Over the sound of the revving engine, I heard the pounding of Lady Gaga’s horse hoof heels  and the dragging of her tail on the roof of the Awesomebus!. Jessie made a sharp right turn that sent Damien and the Knifemaster spilling into the aisle and made me slam my head into the window. There was a loud banging overhead that sounded like Lady Gaga losing her balance. The sound came towards me, and when I looked out the window, I saw Gaga’s face staring back at me. My scream was accompanied by the screams of the rest of my team.

I and the rest of my team fell to the floor of the Awesomebus!, still screaming,  and I watched as Lady Gaga’s head crashed through the window, showering me with the shards of glass.

“Baby,” Gaga joked as she looked down at me with her head through the broken window, “You and me could write a bad romance.

“I don’t know about the romance part,” I snapped back at her as I pulled out a throwing knife, “but I absolutely agree that our story would be terrible.”  I threw the my knife at Gaga’s face, but she ducked her head back out the window, causing me to miss her entirely. The knife clanged off the metal ceiling and ricocheted into the seat behind me.

“Hey! That hit me dick stain!” Everett’s voice cried.

“What did you just call me?!” I shouted back, partially impressed that he would say that to me.

Overhead, despite Jessie’s erratic driving which was causing everyone inside the bus to cling to the seats, Gaga’s hoof shoes could be heard stomping across the roof. Her stomps stopped at the center of the bus, and right as Jessie swerved the bus to dodge a pedestrian, Gaga’s dagger like tail plunged through the metal roof. We all screamed. The Knifemaster panicked. In an attempt to run for the door, he tripped over his own feet and fell on his face in the aisle. The tip of Gaga’s tail expanded, creating something resembling the hooks of our grappling hooks, and lodged itself in the metal ceiling.

The Knifemaster screamed a high pitch- eight year old girl scream, and flailed helplessly on the floor.

Standing up from the floor in front of my seat, still bracing myself on the seat in front of me, I yelled, “Knifemaster, stop screaming and get up.” Then, I commanded to the rest of my team, “Jessie, turn on our sirens so that people hear and see us coming.Knifemaster, and Criss, dislodge her tail.” I then looked at Everett and his bleeding arm and added, “What the shit happened to you?”

“YOU HIT ME WITH YOUR THROWING KNIFE,ASSHOLE!”

“Right,” I replied, “Well, my bad. Clean yourself up and then help Criss and the Knifemaster.

“What are you going to be doing,” Criss asked.

I walked towards him, pulled his communicator off of his wrist and put it on my own and said, “The same thing that I did last time: Giving Gaga what she wants.Damien and Series of Japanese Symbols, I need both of you to keep an eye on what’s going on in here and on top of the bus.  ”

“But what if her tail attacks us?” The Knifemaster asked.

I pointed to Criss’s communicator and answered, “Damien or Series will let me know, and I will do something awful to distract her, like tackle her and start making out with her or something.”

Several “ews” escaped my teammates lips, but I held out my fist and said, “For Raul.”

A somber look befell my teammates faces. One at a time, they placed their hands on mine and repeated, “For Raul.” We held our hands there for a quiet second (well, quiet other than the screeching of the Awesomebus!’s tires, the blaring of it’s siren, or Lady Gaga’s feet stomping above our head), and when we let go, everyone did as I commanded. I grabbed some extra ammo from the ammunition trunk in the seat behind Jessie’s, and then exited through the door and swung myself onto the roof.

The wind made it hard for me to stand up straight, but it was better than trying to stand up on the side of the Awesomecopter! like I did the year before, so I managed to do it.

Lady Gaga stood at the other end of the Awesomebus!’s roof, unsurprised by the fact that I had climbed up to fight her, and through her smirk, she called over the sirens, “C’mon, baby. Take a bite of my bad girl meat.

“You’re really not helping to dispel that rumor about you having a penis when you say things like that, you know,” I quipped back at her.

I was expecting her to say something back, but instead, she pounced. I dove and slid under her. I spun my body around and managed to stop myself before I reached the edge of the roof. I stood back up and squinted as the wind smacked my face. Through my peripheral vision, I saw the streets lined with gawkers and tourists- shooting at Gaga could possibly result in a civilian getting hurt. I wasn’t going to let that happen. We already lost Raul to this crazed alien, not to mention how many followers of hers that were either injured or dead because she told them to attack us, I wasn’t going to be responsible for any more casualties.

But before I could pull out my taser, the only nonlethal weapon that has worked on her in the past, she shrieked and began to whip her tail around. The several screams that I heard come from inside the Awesomebus! assured me that The Knifemaster and Criss had at least tried to remove her tail, and The Knifemaster’s panicked voice over Criss’s wrist communicator confirmed it. Knowing what I unfortunately had to do, I dove at Lady Gaga.

She was so distracted with her tail that she wasn’t able to block me as I dove at her. I’m still not sure how, but I managed to tackle, Gaga’s thin yet impossibly heavy frame. We crashed down right behind the windshield, on top of the Awesomebus!’s siren lights, crushing them and silencing the siren. Sparks flew out from under Gaga, and she howled in pain. With one firm kick, she both knocked the wind out of me (again) and sent me flying towards the back of the bus. I slid, but this time I wasn’t so lucky, and fell off the back. I clung on to the edge of the Awesomebus!’s roof as I scrambled to find a proper foothold and get air back in my lungs. Lady Gaga’s sharp, jet black tail removed itself from the roof and wrapped around my waist. With a forceful tug, I was up in the air and face to face with an amused Lady Gaga.

“I know you’re mad about your friend,” she said as she looked deep into my eyes, “I want your lovin’; I want your revenge.”

I felt a burning just under my skin. My face went hot. I tried to control myself, but her even mentioning Raul made me clench my teeth with rage. My hands were free and clenched into fists. I could have hit her; she was within my reach, but I knew that’s what she wanted me to do. Instead, I spat in her open mouth.

She swallowed it, smiled, and said, “Baby, you’re sick.”

Her tail tightened around my body, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Then, she raised me up into the air and slammed me down into the roof of the Awesomebus!. Gaga slammed me down on the roof five times before I was able to free my Taser. I could taste the blood leaking out of my lower lip, and could feel it trickling from my nose. With one last flick of her tail, lady Gaga tossed me into the air and over her head. I landed on my back at the front of the Awesomebus! roof with my head against the windshield. My head hit the windshield hard, and for a second I my vision blurred to the point where I could only make out Gaga’s form above me.

She dropped down on me, pinning my legs to the roof with hers, lowered her mouth to my ear and whispered seductively, “You know that I want you. You know that I need you. I want it bad, bad, bad.”

Then, she stuck her long, snakelike tongue out of her mouth and ran it up and down my cheek. Jessie started to swerve the bus more  erraticly, so Gaga’s tongue was sliding all over my face. From inside the Awesomebus!, I heard the panicked screams of my crew. I couldn’t see if Gaga’s tail was back inside the bus, but at that moment, I realized that my arms were against the cold metal roof. My cloak was covering the windshield.

“Ugh!,” I cried as I pushed her back and tried to sit up, “You’re right. I know that you want me, and honestly, I can’t blame you: I’m really fucking hot. Hell, you’re lucky that you don’t have to fight other women for me.”

“Oh, no,” she replied as she pushed me back down, “Only one hive is allowed to choose from their chosen planet. My Hive claimed this planet many Earth centuries ago.”

“I meant human women, fist of all,” I added, annoyed, “But that’s not even my point. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not ready for this kind of relationship. We can still be friends, though.”

The expression on her face hardened. Her hands, which were on my shoulders, tightened their grip to the point where her nails were digging into my skin through my cloak and protective vest. Into the rushing wind, and over the revving bus engine and the screams of terrified pedestrians, she roared, “I DON’T WANNA BE FRIENDS!!!”

Gaga slapped me hard across the cheek, and I felt her nails tear into my flesh. My blood warmed my icy cheeks as it poured out of my wounds. Then, she pinned both of my hands down and opened her mouth wide. She stuck out her tongue again. But this time, it was rigid and dagger-like. While keeping her head perfectly still, her tongue lunged at me. I was able to dodge her tongue’s stabs, but just barely.

There was a rush of unmuffled screaming to my right. I assumed that Jessie had opened his window. Or at least I would have if I wasn’t avoiding being stabbed by Lady Gaga’s tongue.

“Minigan, You’re cloak’s covering the windshield! I cannot see!” Jessie’s voice yelled at me.

“I’m kind of preoccupied at the moment Jessie!” I screamed back at Jessie, the panic in my voice being completely unintentional, “Use the windshield wipers or something!”

I heard the hum and squeaking of the windshield above my head as I dodged Gaga’s tongue once again.

“I still can’t see!” Jessie cried, “We need the siren to warn the pedestrians!”

“Well, the siren’s bloody broken, isn’t it?” Damien’s voice retorted, “So just get the fucking cape out of the way.”

“I’ve got an idea!” The Knifemaster’s voice shouted, “We’ll blast music! That will get people’s attention!”

“But you still need to get the cloak out of the way, Jessie! You’re gonna kill someone!” I heard Everett shout.

“I’m trying!” I heard Jessie shout back as he careened down the busy thoroughfare, ramming parked cars and narrowly missing pedestrians, “but the windshield wipers aren’t working!

I jerked my head to the right and Gaga’s tongue missed my face by an inch.

“That’s because you’re not trying to whisk away water, you idiot!” Damien’s voice screamed, “That’s Minigan’s cloak! Try something else!”

“Yeaaaaaah-aaaah aaah-eh-ah! It’s a Party in the USA!”

“TURN OFF THAT FUCKING SONG, KNIFEMASTER!” I roared as I dodged Gaga’s thin scaly tongue a second time.

“Now isn’t really the time to argue music choices, Minigan!” He shouted back with I’m guessing a smirk on his stupid face.”

“JUST DO IT!” I shouted as I freed a hand from Gaga’s Herculean grip and punched her hard in the jaw. It had no effect, except making my knuckles sore.

“Oh baby,” she cooed with her long pointed tongue, “You’ve got me wonderin’ why I like it rough.

“JESSIE, DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE CLOAK!”

“I CAN’T!”

“Na na na na na na na/ We’re gonna start a fight!”

“Minigan,” Jessie yelled to me, You need to move your cloak! I cannot see where I’m going!”

“Not that song, Knifemaster,” I heard Damien shout, “change it to ‘Fuck You’ at least.”

Criss shouted, “Why is the music the one thing that everyone is focused on, when our leader is fighting a  shape shifting monster on the roof of a bus speeding down the streets of Hollywood?!?!”

“How do you even know that we’re in Hollywood?” Everett yelled as he reached outside the bus and tried to push my cloak out of the way with a broom.

“I see you drivin’  round town with the girl I love and I’m like, Fuck you (ooh, ooh, ooh!)”

“Because I have enough of a brain to look out the side windows to see where we’re going, unlike this sad excuse for a Jessie James descendant,” Criss quipped back.

“Hey!” Jessie shouted.

I screamed down into the hole in the roof, “Gaga’s still on top of me you di-“

Lady Gaga wrapped her fingers around my neck and forced my head down against the windshield. The sudden sting on the back of my head made me grunt a little. But the grunted ended up sounding more like a scream, because I could feel Lady Gaga’s fingers melt around my neck. Okay, ‘melt’ isn’t the right word. But I did feel as the bones of her fingers went soft on my throat and her human feeling skin turned cold and sticky. I felt the same feeling on both of my wrists somehow. Her (what I assume were) tentacle-fingers stretched and twisted around my neck and wrists, and slithered around my face. Her grip tightened, and I could feel my larynx pinch shut. Panicking, I did my best to buck Gaga off of me, but due to her impossible weight and boney structure, I merely squirmed like a mouse in the paws of a hungry cat. The world around me started to spin; I wasn’t sure if it was because of Gaga suffocating me or because Jessie’s insane blind driving. I opened my mouth and gasped for oxygen, fighting desperately to suck some of the precious gas down my windpipe. Then I felt Gaga’s sticky, slimy, tentacle-fingers slide in. Instinctively, I bit down. Hard. She let out a wild, angry shriek, and her tentacle-fingers released their literal stranglehold on my throat. Jessie made a sharp left turn, which threw Gaga off of me and almost off of the bus, and I gasped up lungfuls of sweet, sweet air. That was the happiest I had ever been to be breathing L.A. smog.

Unfortunately for me, that smog induced euphoria was short lived, as Lady Gaga was back on top of me in a flash. She grinned a very toothy grin as she said to me, “That’s right, show me your teeth.”

“Minigan, for the love of God, Move your cloak!”

“I CAN’T! I’M PINNED DOWN!”

Just then, Series of Japanese Symbols popped his head out from one of the windows and over the top of the bus. Instead of helping me like he should have been doing, he just yelled nonsense at us.

“What are you saying, goddamit?”

He shouted another bout of unintelligible garbage at me while Lady Gaga turned her head and listened to what he had to say.

After he was finished yelling and pointing ahead of us, Gaga turned to me, whipped her disheveled hair out of her face, and said, “He said that we’re headed right for that wall.”

“And how can you understand him,” I shouted, annoyed, at Lady Gaga.

“How can you not?” she replied in a serious tone.

“Why the fuck can every- wait a second, what wall?”

That question was immediately answered by Jessie driving the Awesomebus! through a wall. Within seconds, Lady Gaga was knocked off of me, and I just managed to raise my arms over my face before pieces of brick crashed down on top of me. I heard the terrified screams of the bystanders who were going about their normal business before we came barreling through the walls.

Jessie slammed on the breaks, and I went tumbling over the hood the Awesomebus! and onto the hard, polished floor. I rolled to a stop, but was back up on my feet almost immediately, even if the fall had disoriented me a little.

I looked around the room and realized that Lady Gaga was suspiciously absent. But my attention was soon focused on what was in the room. As it turns out, Jessie crashed the Awesomebus! into a concert hall and stopped it on the stage. In front of me, filling the seats of the auditorium were hundreds upon hundreds of men in tuxedos and women in dresses. At the front of the stage, a good twenty feet away from me, were a confused looking Anne Hathaway and a terrified and stiff looking James Franco. What the hell are they doing here? I asked myself, Aren’t they supposed to be hosting the- Oh God…

“Uh, guys?” I said into my wrist communicator as I stared into the crowd of well-dressed and attractive people, “I think we just crashed the Academy Awards.”

“Minigan,” Damien warned urgently, “Whatever you do, do not whip your dick out this time.”

“Fuck you, Damien.”

“Holy Tit- Nazis!,” The Knifemaster exclaimed through the wrist communicator, ” We’re at the Oscars?!”

The Knifemaster kicked through the door of the Awesomebus! And stepped out onto the stage. He excitedly looked out into the crowd of famous faces. After about a second or two of this, however, his shoulders dropped and he added disappointedly, “Oh, I’m already bored.”

Ignoring his outburst, I looked out into the crowd of faces and TV cameras. In an instant, that sensation of excitement I felt when I fought Limbaugh and Maher on TV back in 2009 washed over me, filling me with a feeling importance. Confidently, I strode to the microphone, pushed Franco and Hathaway to the side, and announced, “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, I am leader of the group known as Awesomesquad!, and we are currently looking for Lady Gaga. She is actually an alien hell bent on kidnapping me and taking me off to her planet to help her repopulate her hive. I want to capture her before she captures me.” I paused for a moment to take in what I had just said, and then I continued, “OK, now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds incredibly stupid, but I swear to you that it’s the truth.” The people in the crowd murmured to one another, not sure if I was an act or if I had actually crashed the Oscars, so I yelled, “I’m serious. She is a shape shifting monster and she needs to be stopped!” I looked to Anne Hathaway and asked, “Did you see her?”

She shook her head no. All the color had drained from her face, and I knew that it was because I was ruining her big night. But then I saw the envelope in her hand.

“What’s that one for?” I asked.

“Best Picture,” she replied quietly and without moving her lips much at all.

“Oh Sweet! Can I read it?!” I asked right before I snatched the envelope out of her hand. She looked around the room in confusion and almost in tears. Seeing this, I bowed to her and said, “Thank you for the honor, your Majesty. I’m sure everyone in Genovia is quite proud.”

This made her laugh, as well as some of the audience members, but everyone still seemed confused. But that didn’t really matter at the moment because I was selling this shit. My heart swelled. I understood why celebrities wanted the attention they recieved.

“Hey Min- er- Boss,” Coco Montoya’s voice rang through my wrist speaker and unfortunately, through the auditorium, “Try to get a sample of Hugh Jackman’s blood.” “I have some theories about how to replicate his healing abilities,” he added in such a way that I couldn’t help but be suspicious.

“Hugh Jackman doesn’t really have Wolverine’s regeneration capabilities, Coco. Be realistic.” I said into my wrist communicator and the microphone. I then looked to Mr. Jackman, who was grinning up at me from his seat, and reassured him, “I promise, Mr. Jackman, I will not be trying to steal any of your blood tonight. I don’t even have a vial to collect your totally not-mutant blood. I’m only here to announce the winner of the Best Picture, not take your blood.”

I was getting more laughs, but then the door to the Awesomebus! was kicked open again, and Damien and Everett stepped out and onto the stage.

They came up behind me and Damien asked in a whisper, “Minigan, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m about to give the award for best picture,” I announce both to him and into the microphone.

“We just crashed a bus through the Kodak Theater, and you want hang around and hand out an Oscar?!” Everett shouted as his voice echoed through the concert hall.

Some more of the audience laughed.

I paused for a moment to look down at the envelope in my hand and then to Everett before I stated, “Yes.” Just about all of the audience laughed this time. They were beginning to think that this was all a part of the show, which was a fact that I could thankfully work in my favor. I raised the envelope and announced into the microphone, “And the winner is…”

But right as I was about to tear it, Franco grabbed onto my  burnt and cut up wrist. I suppressed the overwhelming urge to punch him in the throat. Unflinching of my glare, Franco calmly stated, “That is Stephen Spielberg’s job.”

“That old fossil made an Indiana Jones movie with aliens in it!” The Knifemaster shouted, “That practically almost ruined the franchise! The only things we’ve ruined is a debate and, well, this building. We  absolutely deserve this more!”

“No, I don’t think so.” Franco retorted as he reached for the envelope in my hand.

However, before he could reach it, The Knifemaster let out a furious roar and tackled him to the ground. James Franco and Anne Hathaway cried for help as the Knifemaster wrestled Franco into a submission hold and the audience came to life with laughter. Hathaway stood perfectly still, absolutely terrified that if she tried to escape, she would suffer the same fate as Franco, who was being sat on by a large man in tactical black clothing.

I turned back to the audience and repeated, “And the winner is…”

I opened the envelope. The King’s Speech. Fuck that. Inception was way better.

“Inception!” I cried out to the crowd.

The crowd erupted with applause, and a taken aback Christopher Nolan stood up and headed for the stage.

“Wait! He’s lying,” That damned Anne Hathaway called after looking over my shoulder at the envelope. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Nolan,” that stupid, honest woman apologized, “But the real winner is The King’s Speech.”

I pushed her out of the way of the microphone and lied, “Don’t listen to her. She went crazy after ‘Rachel Getting Married.’ Trust me, the winner is ‘Inception.”

“No!” Hathaway yelled, “It really is the King’s Speech. Why are you guys listening to him? He just crashed through the wall with a shoddily painted schoolbus!”

“None of this has been planned!” Franco painfully yelled from under the Knifemaster, “Anne is telling the truth!”

“Hey!” Brad Pitt yelled as he stood up from his seat in the crowd, “This is a respectable award show that honors the great works of art from the past year. You just can’t decide to choose a different winner!”

“Well, no one asked you, Benjamin Button,” I quipped to Pitt, “So sit back down and continue to grind your molars like you always do.”

“Mate,” Damien whispered harshly into my ear, “He produced Kick Ass. Do you want to destroy my chance at working on Kick Ass 2?

I laughed at the idea of that movie getting a sequel (and told Damien so) and then looked back down at Pitt. To my surprise, he did as he was told, sat back down and angrily ground his molars. However, his outburst emboldened Hathaway, who pushed her way back to the microphone.”

“Security!” She shrieked, her eyes wide with panic and probably crazy, “Stop these me-aaaahhhhh!”

Without warning, The Knifemaster jumped to his feet and shot his Taser at Hathaway. The electric probes shot from his gun and into her stomach, causing the respected actress to crash to the floor in a convulsing mess.

“What the shit, Knifemaster?”I yelled at my obviously crazed second in command.

“What?” he answered, “You wanted to give out the award.”

Angry protests rang out from the crowd. Christopher Nolan and the rest of the cast of Inception slouched down in their seats. I guessed it was because they were on our side.

“This is dastardly!” George Clooney yelled from the aisle, ‘You are monsters!”

“I promise you that Anne Hathaway is fine,” I announced over their protests, “My idiotic cohort here just gets a little over excited is all.”

“Not that!” Clooney shouted back, “How could you attempt to disgrace such an important and historical event as the Academy Awards?!”

“Wait… What?!”

“You heard me!” Clooney snapped back, “You have no right to choose the winner of the Best Picture Award!”

“You know what,” Damien interjected to Clooney, much to my surprise, “You can piss off, Bat-Nipples.” Then, noticing my shock from under my hood, he whispered, “It’s OK, no one outside of Hollywood other than middle aged women like him anyway.”

Then, Criss, Series of Japanese Symbols, and, in an act of total stupidity, Jessie rushed out of the bus to see what was going on. Well, shit. I looked back to the crowd and found Sandra Bullock seething in her seat.

“Well, We’re leaving now.” I shouted over the crowd’s protests, “Have a good-“

“JESSIE JAMES, I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Sandra Bullock roared as she jumped from her seat and into the aisle. She ran (as fast as she could considering her heels) towards the stage, and a mob of angry A- listers followed.

I backed up and joined my team at the center of the stage. Frantically, Everett pulled out several smoke-and-flash bombs, and threw them at each of the stairs that lead up to the stage. Each bomb exploded and sent up a curtain of smoke that concealed the stage from the audience. Then, just as the bombs are supposed to, several bright flashing lights shot up through the smoke and blinded anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. I heard several screams and thuds, which told me that the smoke-and-flash bombs had blinded some celebrities enough to make them tumble back down the stairs, hopefully taking several other celebrities with them.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking, Jessie and Criss?!” Damien scolded, “You both know you’re recognizeable. And Jessie, you knew damn well that your ex-wife was going to be here. Why would you even think to step out of the bus?!”

“I thought I could help!” Jessie cried back.

“You’re only job is to drive!” Damien snapped, “How exactly were you going to help us by leaving the bus?!”

“Hey” I shouted at Team Pugnastics as I saw the first few celebrities come through the smoke, “Let’s just get out of here alive. Then we can chastise Jessie for being an idiot.”

My team agreed, and rushed to the bus. They all managed to get inside safely, but as soon as I reached the door, a strong hand grabbed me by the shoulder and threw me backwards. I landed hard on my back several yards away from the Awesomebus!. I reached for my grappling gun so that I could shoot it at the bus, but a well-polished shoe kicked it out of my hand.

“I don’t think so.” George Clooney said as he squinted down at me, “I know your tricks, cloaked man. I’ve read the news about you, I watched you fight that monster Limbaugh, but most importantly, I’ve played Batman before.”

“Then you should be expecting this!” A female voice shouted from behind Clooney.

I heard a faint clicking sound, and then a much louder clicking sound. From behind Clooney, I watched as the hook to my grappling hook shot up into the air and snagged itself on the rafters. After about a second, Clooney shot up into the air, ass first, with the gun firmly attached to his belt.

I looked down from where Clooney was screaming and swinging in the rafters, to the face of my rescuer, and saw that it was Ellen Page. She reached out her hand, grabbed mine, and quickly pulled me to my feet.

“Thank you, Miss Page,” I said in partial shock that a celebrity would be good hearted enough to actually save me (Jessie and Criss don’t count as celebrities because they’re a mechanic and a magician, respectively).

“Call me Ellen,” she replied with her crooked smirk, “Besides, you tried to make a movie that I was in win the Best Picture Oscar. That makes you a hero in my book.”

“Well, I really thought it was the best picture,” I said modestly, “But I totally agree with you about me being a hero, because I am.”

She laughed, but her laugh was cut short by a growing roar coming from behind her. Her eyes grew wide with fear, and she dove out of the way. Page’s small frame was replaced by the monstrous Hugh Jackman, who was charging at me with what were obviously dinner knives lodged between his fingers.

Jackman roared, “WOLVERINE!!!” and began to take swipes at me.  I narrowly dodged each swipe by either jumping backwards or rolling under his swinging arms.

“Ellen!” I cried as I ducked under one of Jackman’s swipes and punched him in the stomach. It did nothing. “Help!”

Ellen, still sitting on the ground, but was slowly scooting away. Realizing that she wasn’t moving fast enough got back up and started to run away. “Sorry,” she called back, “But I’ve gotta pick my battles, you know!”

“But you picked this battle! You just hung George Clooney from the rafters!”

“Clooney is an easy fight,” she yelled back, “I bet his next girlfriend will be able to kick his ass. Besides, I might work with Hugh again in the future!” and with that, she disappeared into the backstage area.

Jackman took another swing at me, and this time I did a back flip to dodge it. When I landed we were several feet away from each other. Taking a chance, I charged. Hugh widened his stance and opened his arms so that he could swing at me as soon as I was close enough. To his surprise, however, I dropped to the floor and slid between his legs. Then his legs came crashing in around me and pushed the air out of my lungs. Hugh threw a knife riddled punch down at me. Without any hesitation, I pulled my serrated knife from its ankle sheath and stabbed Hugh right in his hand. He jumped back, dropped the knives and let out a pained scream.

“You stabbed me, you bastard!” he cried as he clutched his bleeding hand.

“You were about to stab me, dick hole!” I shouted back.

And then I saw it, despite how he was feet away from me, and despite how he was clutching his hand, I still watched in horror and amazement as his hand healed. Just like fucking Wolverine.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

I got up, much faster that I thought possible, and with the bloody knife still in my hand, ran back towards the Awesomebus!. It was surrounded. My team was inside shooting celebrities with their remaining tranquilizer darts. Pulling out my own, I shot at the mob of A-list celebrities.  I emptied what was left in the magazine into the crowd, and managed to take out Gwenyth Paltrow, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Meryl Streep, and Mark Wahlberg.

I jumped onto the back of the Awesomebus! and yelled through the smashed window, “Drive!”

Jessie threw the gear into reverse and hit the gas. Instantly, my face was rubbing the cold steel armor plating on the back of the bus. From the speakers inside the bus came “Party Poison” from My Chemical Romance for some reason. Careful not to lose my grip, I spun around and yelled for the stage hands and miscellaneous celebrities to get out of the path. Halle Berry was one such celebrity, who managed to run out of the gaping hole the Awesomebus! had created and dove off to the side, despite wearing high heeled shoes and a very fluffy and delicate looking light pink dress.

“This ain’t a Party!/ Get off the dance floor/ You wanna get down/ Here comes the gang war…”

“I’m sorry about that, Miss Berry!” I called to her as Jessie backed the Awesomebus out of the building, made it turn sharply, and then threw it in drive and floored it again. As we sped off, I called back to her, “By the way, you look phenominal tonight!”

“So keep your cars and your dogs and your famous friends…”

It was not well lit in that alleyway, but I’m pretty sure she smiled at me. Awesome.

The Awesomebus! sped through the alleyway and under a building adjoining the Dolby Theater, and then made a sharp right onto a main road. I turned back around and yelled in to Everett, “Take this knife from me and put it in a sterile bag. Coco wants to experiment on that blood.”

“You actually stabbed Hugh Jackman!?” Everett cried which made everyone turn around and look at me.

“You stabbed him?!” Damien shouted angrily.

“How is it possible for you to stab him and not be murdered?!” Everett asked.

“How is it even possible that you were able to stab him in the first place?”Criss added.

Series of Japanese symbols said something. I think it might have been another question.

“Because,” The Knifemaster answered in awe, “Minigan’s a total badass.”

“Exactly,” I added as I handed the bloody knife through the window, over the cage of bound and squirming Lady Gaga followers, and to Everett.

He put it in an evidence bag that we had left over from the Awesomecopter! crash and stowed it into the trunk. I breathed a sigh of relief; this fight was over. It wasn’t a win for us, what with us losing Raul, but we did manage to capture three of Lady Gaga’s monsters, so now we could at least try and find a way to cure them. Plus, I was able to get some of Hugh Jackman’s magic healing blood, so we might never have to deal with another loss again. So long, thrill of the fight!

Jessie turned off the music and pulled me out of my thoughts by calling, “We’ve got a problem. The LAPD has been notified of our mishap at the Dolby Theater tonight, and are now looking for us.”

And just like that, my feeling of relief was gone. In the distance, I could hear the police sirens growing louder. I climbed over the shards of broken glass still attached to the window frame, and jumped over the cage. Once I had landed in the aisle, I ran to the front of the Awesomebus! and to Jessie’s side.

“GMZ is working on locating the nearest police vehicles,” he said to me without taking his focus off the road. He then pointed to our GPS system and continued, “He’ll upload their locations as soon as he gets them, but for now we’ll need to keep an eye out for police cars as we make our getaway.”

I turned back to my tired and beaten group of fighters. This was the first time that I was able to get a good look at any of them since we escaped Lady Gaga’s ambush. Everett’s lips was swollen and bloody,  Damien had several long scratches going down his forearms and across his face, The Knifemaster had blood trickling down around his ear from somewhere on the side of his head, and Series of Japanese Symbols had a swollen eye, a bloody nose, and several bruises on his forearms and neck. Each of them wore a worn look upon their faces, probably from the loss of Raul.

I could hear the sirens grow louder and I knew we were running out of time. “Guys,” I said, pulling them out of their thoughts, “We need to keep an eye out for the LAPD because of what happened at the Oscars tonight. Chances are they’re not happy with us crashing the Oscars and then incapacitating many prominent Hollywood actors.”

“They should be thanking us because we actually made the Oscars watchable this year,” Everett said with a slight smirk.

This made the other members of the team chuckle a little, including (surprisingly) Damien, who added while chuckling, “I cannot believe you told Brad Pitt to sit back down and grind his molars.”

“I can’t believe you called George Clooney, ‘Bat-Nipples,’” I replied with a grin. We all laughed out loud at this. Unfortunately, our laughter was cut short by the howling of police sirens and the flash of Red and blue lights.

Jessie nervously called back to us, “Uh, guys, they found us!”

No shit.

“How did they even find us?!” The Knifemaster cried out.

“Because we’re in a major U.S. city and driving around in an armor covered modified school bus with Awesomesquad! painted down the side.” Damien snapped, “How do you bloody think?”

“Ok, calm down,” I said firmly to Damien. To the rest of the group, I announced, “Alright, we’ve always known that this scenario could be a likely outcome of what we do. That’s why we’ve always planned for this. So everyone, get to your stations.”

Everyone did as I told. Everett rushed up to our supplies trunk and pulled out as many of the flash and smoke bombs as he could handle, and carefully walked to the back of the bus with them. Series of Japanese Symbols did the same. The Knifemaster, after Everett and Series had passed, hurried to the front of the bus and got on the phone to talk to Team Prevention. Criss and Damien grabbed paintball guns from the trunk and then joined Everett and Series in the back.

Satisfied with my team’s calm response (especially considering how some of them panicked when Gaga had stuck her tail through the roof), I turned back around to Jessie and asked, “Where are we, and how many of them are on our tail.”

“We’re on the Hollywood Freeway headed north, and so far only two.”

“We’re on the what?!”

“OK we’re not really on the Hollywood Freeway, we’re actually just next to it,” he replied as he pointed out the window, “We actually on Cahuenga Boulevard. Don’t worry- I’ve got a plan.”

“You better.” I stated, “Because barreling down a freeway is stupid when the cops are on your tail.”

“Trust me,” he answered with a confident grin. He then called to the entire team, “Hold on, everybody, we’re about to make some very sharp turns!”

Jessie kept his promise. Almost immediately, he hit the brakes and turned the bus to the right. We were then on a sloped road, and Jessie drove straight through at a stop sign, causing a car to swerve out of our way. He made another sharp right and floored it across the overpass. The Knifemaster was so preoccupied with the argument he was having on the phone that he nearly fell out of his chair. Jessie then ran another damn stop sign (making another driver honk angrily at us) and turned left onto a winding one lane road on the side of the Hollywood hills.”

“You’re taking us on Mulholland Drive, you idiot?!?!” I screamed as I saw the street sign, “I’d rather us be on the Hollywood Freeway! A mountain road that goes on forever isn’t exactly the smartest place to out run the cops when you’re driving a fucking bus Jessie!”

“Trust me.” Jessie answered, “This is going to work.”

“Don’t call me a crazy asshole, Phlegm,” The Knifemaster shouted into the phone, “I told you, Mom and Dad don’t watch the Oscars, so they’ll never know it was me!”

“BUT YOU GUYS CAUSED SUCH A SCENE THAT THERE IS NO WAY YOU WON’T BE ON THE NEWS TOMORROW YOU MORON!” I heard Phlegm shout through the phone, “AND YOU KNOW FULL DAMN WELL THAT THEY WATCH THAT!”

The engine of the Awesomebus whined as we sped up the hillside. I looked out the side mirrors. We had four cops chasing us now. Shit. The four members of Team Pugnastics waited silently in the back, holding until I gave them the go ahead to drop the smoke bombs and fire the paintball guns. But I couldn’t do that until GMZ is able to redirect the cops and give us an escape route.

I grabbed the phone from the Knifemaster and said to Phlegm, “Phlegm, I know you’re pissed right now, but you need to either calm down or leave the Watch Tower because we need to get the LAPD off of our tail.”

Phlegm growled, but obeyed, and the next voice I heard was GMZ’s.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh of relief, “I posted on the forums of 4chan the radio line that the LAPD uses and a request to throw them off of your trail. All you need to do is lose the ones that are following you, and get to Multiview drive. From there, you can get back on the Hollywood freeway and head north back to Base. But you’re still a few miles away, and according to my map, you still have to pass three streets that cops can show up on, so be on the lookout.”

“Thanks GMZ,” I said before I hung up and relayed the information given to me to Jessie. I then turned back to Everett, Series, Criss, and Damien and called, “Let’em rip!”

Damien and Criss began firing their paintball guns at the the front two police car winshields. The screeching of the tires told me that the paintballs were obscuring the drivers’s sight. Looking through the side mirror, I could see that they had fallen behind. I then watched as Everett and Criss threw two smoke bombs each into the road. Almost instantly, a wall of fog formed thick enough to hide the us from the police.

“Jessie, hit it!” I commanded.

As if he had been waiting to do this his entire life, Jessie pressed the little green button on the steering wheel. There came a clanking sound from the back of the bus, which was followed by a couple of seconds of light clinking of tiny pieces of metal hitting pavement, and then followed by the same clanking sound. Back out the side window, I saw a bar of shimmering pavement rush away from us. Now in the distance, the cop cars had made it through the smoke and were now speeding back up to catch us. That was a bad idea. As soon as they ran over that shimmery strip of pavement, their tires exploded and sparks erupted from the front wheel wells. Both leading cars swerved to a stop, and the following cars crashed into their rears.

The bus erupted with cheers. It actually worked! Escaping might be easier than we thought!

And then I heard the familiar whirring of the roto-blades of a helicopter. Shit. The street around the speeding Awesomebus! was illuminated by an overhead spot light.

An echoing voice from the helicopter rang out in the would-be silent night, “You in the armored bus: Stop! You are evading the police and resisting arrest. If you stop now, we will not use excessive force to arrest you.”

I doubted that. Jessie took a sharp left bend fast, and the squeal of the Awesomebus!’s tires echoed into the night. Then, three more police cars appeared, joining the helicopter in the chase. Jessie, Damien, Everett, Series, and Jessie did their thing, and were able to stop those police cruisers as well. I looked at the GPS map and was not relieved. There was another road coming up soon, and another one right after that. I doubted we had enough smoke bombs to make through those two intersections, let alone the rest of the way to Multiview Drive, which was still about one long, winding mile away. Not to mention we still had two intersections left to cross after these two.

Making a quick decision, I commanded to Damien, Criss, Series, and Everett to stand down. We passed the next road. I commanded to Jessie to release more of the tire shredders. He obeyed. Luckily for us, no police cars pulled out behind us that time.

“Jessie,” I announced, “I need you to do that at every intersection. That will keep the cops from following us. Now we just need to get rid of the helicopter.”

“I’ve got an idea for that!” Jessie replied excitedly. At least he was enjoying this. “The cloaking device Everett and I worked on. It won’t work for cars chasing us, because they’ll be too close, but for a helicopter, it might just make them lose us. All we need is to make them lose sight of us…”

We passed the second intersection and Jessie dropped more tire shredders. A cop car pulled out behind us, but was almost instantly stopped because of the Jessie’s trap.

“Smoke bombs!” The Knifemaster interjected, “If we throw the smoke bombs out the front of the bus, we can drive through the smoke, turn on the cloaking device, and then slow down or stop or something, and then the-“

“helicopter will be expecting us to be going the same speed and they will lose us!” I added, “Brilliant! Everett, Series, bring the rest of the smoke bombs up to the front and help the Knifemaster and I throw them out in front of the bus!”

They both looked confused, but they obeyed, and as soon as they made it to the front, I explained the plan. We each took two smoke bombs, and together we threw them out the windows and infront of the bus. The bombs exploded into a plume of smoke, and Jessie slammed on the breaks. The flood light passed over us, just as planned, and Jessie hit a button on the dashboard. I didn’t hear anything that indicated a change, but Jessie started driving again, so I assumed that it worked.

“Knifemaster,” Jessie commanded in a hushed tone, call up Team Prevention and see if anyone on 4chan is helping to redirect the police.”

“And get bitched at again? No thanks.”

“Knifemaster!” I snapped.

He handed the phone to me and smiled.

I scowled at him, put the phone up to my ear and asked, “Did the forum thing work, GMZ?”

“Sort of,” he replied cautiously, “Mostly people are using it to troll the LAPD, but there are some people that are sending cops on wild goose chases. There are still a few police cars in your area, though, so be cautious.”

“OK, just let us know if anything new develops,” I said to him.

“You do the same.”

We were going the speed limit now, about thirty miles an hour, and pulling up to a stop sign. I looked out the window and saw the Helicopter circling nearby, so I knew that we could still be caught. Jessie stopped, drove through the intersection without incident, and then released more tire shredders. Within a minute, we had made it to Multiview Drive. Jessie, in a feat of surprising brilliance, turned the Awesomebus! onto Multiview, then backed up so that we were facing the direction we came, and released more tire shredders to throw any lingering police off our trail. We made it through the neighborhood and onto the freeway without incident, and made our way back to the Awesomebase!.

~Villianous Interlude~

[An Hour Earlier]

Halle Berry sat smiling at Minigan as he complemented her as he and his cohorts sped off. Many of her fellow movie stars rushed out of the gaping hole in the wall and tried to chase the bus down, but it was too late: they were gone. Halle’s smile instantly faded.

“I’m going to call the police! Steven Speilberg shouted, “How dare they steal the limelight from me!”

Halle ignored him, got up, and began to walk up the alley way. She made it to the first building and turned sharply around the corner. Instantly, she was met by a towering figure in a black cloak.

“Did you plant the tracking device?” a cold sounding voice from under the cloak asked.

“Yes,” Berry answered as she morphed back into Lady Gaga, “I attached it to the back of Minigan’s cloak when I had my hands around his neck, right before that buffoon of a driver of his drove through the wall.”

“Good. They will lead us right to their base.”

“But remember what we promised,” Gaga warned, “I want Minigan. I don’t care what you do with the others, but the boy is mine.”

“Of course,” the voice replied, “Such a fighter as Minigan belongs with you.”

“That boy is a monster,” Gaga swooned.

Gaga couldn’t tell, but the man under the cloak scowled. “Right,” he said, “Well, I’ll find something to do with the others, but the only one I’m really after is their weapons maker: Everett Bradford.”

The End… For Now…

 

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…-

Awesomesquad! Assemble! 7! ish: Political Warfare

If you’ve never read any of my Awesomesquad! Assemble! posts before, this link should bring you up to speed. Also, congratulations on finding my blog. This will be the most entertaining thing you’ll ever read.

So, let’s get to it.

_______________

As a rule for my team, we work our hardest to stay under the radar of pop culture. This is for two specific, very important reasons: to keep ourselves mysterious and therefore terrifying to our enemies, and to keep ourselves from becoming as corrupted as the famous people we fight. It’s my personal saying that, “We do not fight those with fame for fame, but for the good of the people without it.”
Seeing as though we are a quasi-trained group of assassins who target famous people, we tend to get some attention. And by “Some attention,” I mean a shit ton. The worst instance of this was actually both the first time Awesomesquad! was on national Television, but it was also our first time in succeeding in not letting our enemies escape (I swear, the previous villians who had escaped had done so by fluke).
It was late in the year 2009. Obama had been in office for about 10 months, and already everyone was bitching about how he wasn’t doing anything. Especially the pundits and especially Nut’n Fancy.
“Obama and the rest of the damn Liberals are stalling so that their agenda will pass and they can destroy America!” Nut’n Fancy shouted as he walked into the briefing room.
The ever outspoken and liberal, Lady Caggiano stood up from her seat and shouted defensively at Nut’n Fancy, “Change takes time! You cannot expect The President to fix all the mistakes that had been made during The Dark Times in less than a year! Give the man a chance.”
This threw Nut’n Fancy into a frenzy. Lady Caggiano always called the years Bush Jr. was in office, “The Dark Times” just to piss off Nut’n Fancy. This time, just like every other time she said it, it worked and Nut’n Fancy screamed a slurry of cuss words and Conservative talking points. Lady Caggiano, as usual, countered with her own rhetoric. Everett, the rest of the team, and I silently walked out of the room as the two shouted over each other. As usual in these situations, Everett handed me a can of knockout gas. I pulled the pin, threw it into the briefing room-turned warzone, and closed the door behind me. Within seconds, a white fog filled the room. Through the windows you could see Nut’n fancy try to fumble at the door before smashing his face up against the window and passing out. The team outside the gassed room put on the gas masks that Everett had stashed (Do you see how damn common of an occurrence this is?), and we entered the room slowly. I found Lady Caggiano on the other side of the room, her face against the floor. I went to pick her up, but once I touched her, she jumped up, howled, and pounced on me, gouging her sharp fingernails into my throat.

Behind those boobs beats the heart of a killer.

“Holyshit! Get’r off, get’r off, get’r off!” I cried as Damien and Criss struggled to pull Lady Caggiano’s talons away from my face.
“We’re trying, but she’s stupid fucking strong!” Criss shouted over Lady Caggiano’s wild howls.
The two of them, plus Jessie James and Everett were finally able to pull her off of me, and Everett pressed his Taser into her chest. She convulsed for a few seconds and then went limp, indicating that she was finally knocked out.
“Why do we always forget Lady Caggiano’s reaction to the knockout gas always leaves her in an animalistic rage and with superhuman strength?” I asked as I climbed back to my feet and dust myself off, I could already feel the blood trickling out of the neck wounds Lady Caggiano had given me. I walked out of the foggy room and into the warm light of the hallway.
“Well, we usually only hold meetings like this for serious situations.” Criss grimaced as he dragged Nut’n Fancy’s heavy body by the arm into the hallway.
“Yeah. What was this important meeting all about anyway?” Everett asked, helping Criss stuff Nut’n Fancy into the broom closet. “Oh, and by the way, your neck is bleeding a lot, Minigan.”
I replied, “First of all, what the hell are you doing? Secondly I can feel my neck bleeding- I’ll get to it in a minute. And finally, I called this meeting because one of us-”
“Minigan,” a voice called from behind me. It was GMZ. He had a look of urgency behind his thick rimmed glasses which I was never sure if he was wearing ironically or not. At 19, GMZ is the youngest of the group- younger than me by two and a half years. Behind his glasses was an attractive face, or at least, attractive enough to be considered attractive while still being able to blend in with the crowd. He usually kept his looks in check by wearing nerdy T-shirts and (probably) those glasses. On this day he was sporting an Iron Man shirt. “Why is your neck bleeding?” he asked me, “And why are they shoving Lady Caggiano and Nut’n Fancy into the broom closet?
“Well, where would you like us to put them?” Damien asked crossly, “They do this all the bloody time, and they’re always blocking up the hall afterwards.”
“Hold on a sec.” I told GMZ. I then addressed the group, “That’s fine, put them in there. But what I wanted to talk about is that one of us has been-“
“Minigan, his is really important.”
“So is this.” I retorted, and before he could get another word out, I blurted, “One of us has working out on the gym equipment and not wiping their disgusting sweat off of it afterwards.”
“That wasn’t important at all!” GMZ shouted.
“Yeah!” the rest of the group in the hallway chimed in.
“Yes it is. This is very serious and demands immediate action.”

Seriously, this isn’t that fucking hard.

“Not so important that it warrants a meeting that could potentially with us having to use knockout gas on those two,” Damien retorted, pointing to the broom closet where Lady Caggiano and Nut’n Fancy were stored, “This could’ve been done in a phone call, or a passive aggressive email, but not by dragging us all in here.”
“It’s actually a good thing you all are here,” GMZ noted, “again, there is a situation that needs to be discussed. Minigan, please come with me to The Watchtower.”
“We’re not finished with this conversation, by the way!” I called back to Damien, Criss, Jesse, and Everett as I followed GMZ down the hall.
We turned the corner, climbed the set of stairs and walked across the suspended catwalk which led to The Watchtower. The Watchtower, being the command center for all the security cameras in the Awesomebase!, sat in the center of the spacious Great Room. Well, “sat” isn’t the right word. It’s concrete walls jutted out from the ceiling of the Great Room, creating the ceiling’s giant cube protrusion that the modernist chandelier hangs from. The only entrance to The Watchtower was through the door at the other end of the catwalk. The catwalk, by the way, was designed in such a way that if our enemies would ever break into The Awesomebase!, any member of Awesomesquad! could press a discreet stone at the bottom of the stairs and it would release the catwalk from The Watchtower, dropping that end to the floor and leaving The Watchtower untouched.
Sliding passed me on the catwalk, GMZ walked up to the door, and placed his right hand on a glowing blue square. After about a second or two, there was a light ‘ping’ and the glowing square turned green. Then, from above the blue square, a small circle opened up, and GMZ placed his right eye in front of it. A fan of red lasers shot out of the circle and scanned his eye. Once it was finished, a pleasant female voice said, “Retinal scan accepted,” and a keyboard shot out of the wall below the square. This went on for about ten minutes as GMZ typed in his passcode, answered a question about himself, spoke his code name for voice identification, answered a second question about himself aloud, gave a cheek swab for DNA identification, scanned his hand and eye again, and then gave a urine sample. Every single one of these security measures were GMZ’s idea, and they are such a pain in the ass that just about everyone other than Danica and GMZ, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Usually if anyone else needs in there, they just knock.
GMZ finished the last task to get through the door (it was a full body scan of his own secret dance, which he was pretty embarrassed to do in front of me), the door dropped down with that futuristic swooshing noise, and we entered The Watchtower. If every member of Awesomesquad! had a room that was specifically designed for them, then by God, The Watchtower was designed for GMZ. The room had no fluorescent lighting, but was instead lit by hundreds of white and blue LED lights that dotted the ceiling. In the center of the room was a four foot wide piece of glass that was lit by more blue LED lights around the edges. This was the display touchscreen, or as GMZ likes to call it, The Minority Report Screen. If you don’t get that reference, go watch that movie after you’re done reading this.

Our’s is better because we don’t have to use those stupid gloves.

Three of the walls were bare sans the wires for the cameras and internet access. The fourth wall was made entirely out of screens, each watching a different section of the Awesomebase!. Currently, Damien, Everett, Criss and Jesse were in the kitchen, eating some of the cookies that Lady Caggiano had made earlier that day. On another screen, Nut’n Fancy dragged his still weakened body out of the broom closet he was stowed in. Lady Caggiano was still knocked out, apparently.
“We have acquired some information that a possible attack on the Nation’s Capital will happen tonight,” GMZ stated.
“What?!” I cried, pulling my attention away from wall of screens.
Standing up from behind her computer, Danica added, “GMZ hacked into a cell tower in Washington DC and recorded a conversation between two men that said that the world will be theirs after tonight.”
GMZ nodded, “Yeah, so I checked into the locations where the two signals were coming from. One was from a hotel, but the other was coming from an old warehouse just outside DC.”
He strode over to the Minority Report screen and brought up a three dimensional map of the outskirts of Washington. He then drew a square with his finger around one building, and the map zoomed in to show just that city block.
“This is the building,” he affirmed, “Danica looked up the address , and it has been out of use for the past several years. However it has been rented out since June. And every day since then, there has been trucks dropping off dozens of large crates.”
I asked, “Do we have any idea who these two people could be?”
“Unfortunately no,” Danica replied, “The cellphones they were using were those prepaid, disposable phones that you can pick up anywhere anymore. We’ve tried to track their signals, but they haven’t been turned on since we intercepted the call. We aren’t holding much hope that they will.”
Sensing my doubt in this mission, GMZ added, “But I’ve been expecting something like this to happen eventually, so I’ve had Everett develop something for you and I to share vital information while you’re in combat.” He strode over to his desk and grabbed a small rectangular box. When he made it back to me, he opened the box to reveal a set of black sunglasses.
As politely as I could, I said, “They look badass, but I don’t see how they’ll help us communicate or even let me see indoors.”
“Don’t judge them before you put them on,” he replied.
I obliged. Holyshit, I shouldn’t have judged those sunglasses. Despite the fact that they looked like sunglasses, they actually made it easier to see in the dim light of The Watchtower. Everything was more vibrant, and when I focused on a particular item, it zoomed in and gave me information on the object. When I looked at GMZ, a list of information about him popped up, including his real name, his age, and several important pieces of medical information like his blood type and allergy information.
“I stand corrected,” I mused.
“You haven’t seen everything it does,” GMZ replied. He clicked a button on his computer and the wall of screens changed from video feeds of the Awesomebase! to a video feed from the glasses. He then spoke into the microphone on his desk, “Minigan, do you hear me?”
I did, but it sounded like he said it directly into my ear. “Jesus Christ in a clown wig!” I exclaimed. My voice boomed through the room’s speakers.

“You’re going to need to not scream when you’re wearing those,” Danica added smartly.

“I can also load an image directly onto the glasses so that you can see what vital information during the mission, like blueprints or pressure points on the human body or whatever,” GMZ added, “This is really going to make things easier for us.”

Taking off the glasses and feeling pretty satisfied with them, I said, “These are pretty amazing, GMZ, but I don’t see how this is supposed to make me feel better about going into this mission with so little information. All you have is a phone conversation that you could’ve possibly misinterpreted.”

“No,” GMZ stated, “You just need to hear the recording of it.” He typed onto his keyboard for a few seconds, and after hitting the enter button, two male voices spoke through the speakers.”

“Are we still on for tonight?” asked the first voice.

“Yes.” The second replied, “Everything is set up and ready, so all we need to do is what we do best. Then the world will be ours.”

“But what about the rumors of that elite group of fighters that are supposed to stop people like us? the first one asked. I looked to GMZ and Danica. They both smirked and nodded.

“They’re rumors!” cried the second. “Both Donald Trump and Kim Kardashian are still making headlines. Neither of them has been stopped yet. The rumors of such a group are just that- rumors. And if the rumors are true and such a group does exist, then they have a very small window to stop us.”

Then both let out hearty, yet sinister laughs.

“Well then, I guess I will see you at 5:00.” The first one said once they finished laughing, which took an uncomfortably long time.

“Actually, get here an our early.” The second man requested, “That way we can make sure we are fully prepared for tonight.”

The first man agreed, and then they both hung up.

“You really should’ve just played me the recording first. That would’ve saved some time,” I pointed out.
“Yeah,” GMZ agreed, “But then you wouldn’t have gotten the glasses.

I agreed and then looked at my watch. 2:00PM. Shit. We just gassed Nut’n Fancy and tased Lady Caggiano. It usually takes them a half hour or so to recover from getting knocked out like that, and we’ve never gone up against a bad guy on the same day, let alone within a few hours. But if I don’t let them fight, the rest of us could possibly be outmatched, or they could find a way to come with us and fight anyway.

A knock on the door shook me from the conflict being waged in my head. Danica opened the door, and Phlegm and Derren walked in carrying drinks, snacks, and a headset each. Apparently, they were ready for Team Pugnastics to fight.

“You told Phlegm and Derren first?!”

“I ran into them before I found you!” GMZ replied, “Besides, we’re in a hurry here!”

I turned to Derren and Phlegm and asked, “And what are you doing with the food and drinks?”

“Do you expect us to watch the show without snacks?” Derren asked sarcastically.

Phlegm put down everything she was carrying and started jumping up and down, flapping her hands in front of her like a little girl who ate too much candy. She excitedly added, “Ooh, Minigan! I’m so excited to watch you guys fight! We never get to see it! Please make it extra violent for me!”

“Am I the only one who finds it disturbing that our Psychologist wants to see me really hurt someone?” I asked.

“No time to deal with that!” GMZ added putting the glasses back in my hand and pushing me towards the door, “You need to inform Team Pugnastics that you need to leave as soon as possible. We’ll brief them once you’re on your way.” “Until then, us four,” casting a glance over to Phlegm and Derren, “will continue to find out any information on who those men could be.” He pushed me the rest of the way out of the door, which closed behind me once I was on the catwalk. I could hear the faint cheers and hoots from the four still inside The Watchtower. They were really looking forward to the show.

I rushed to the lounge to find Damien, Criss, Everett, and Jesse, playing poker. Nut’n Fancy was lying on one of the couches, looking like he was fighting a particularly nasty hangover.

“OK Fellas,” I announced, “We need to get ready to leave. We’ve got some ass kickin’ to do.”

“What?” a tired sounding female voice asked from behind me. It was Lady Caggiano. She looked as if she had just woken up from a weeklong, but not necessarily pleasant, nap. “Where are we going? Is this why you called the meeting in the first place?”

“No,” I informed her, “We’ll be having the meeting after we get back. But right now, we need to get ready. We’re leaving as soon as the Awesomecopter! is ready.”

I nodded to Jesse, indicating to him that he was dismissed to get the Awesomecopter! prepared. He didn’t move. In fact, no one moved. They all just stared at me.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Damien finally spoke up. “Who are we fighting?” he asked.

“We don’t know.” I answered.

“Well, then what are they doing that is so evil?” he asked next.

“We don’t know that either.”

“So then why are we going to fight this person?” Damien then queried.

“GMZ intercepted a phone call.” I replied hurredly, “Look, You’ll be briefed by GMZ in the Awesomecopter! while we’re on our way. You’re just going to need to trust me and GMZ on this.” Damien stared at me. I wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or just plain shock. Feeling the uncomfortable silence weigh down on me, I added, “Look, I know this is unusual for us. I know that I always give you all the information before we even set out. And I know I have never asked for your trust before, but this time we need to be in Washington DC before 5:00PM. That is the time that the two men who are behind everything proceed with their plan. Please, let’s get ready.”
Damien actually seemed satisfied with this response. “OK. Let’s get ready.”
Lady Caggiano moaned, but didn’t argue, and she and the rest of Team Pugnastics headed down to the armory to suit up. Within the half hour, we were on the Awesomecopter!’s Helipad, which I really should have named “Awesomepad!” to keep the names consistent. Oh well. Everett took one look at me, and he clenched his jaw.
“Be careful with those, Minigan,” he told me, trying to keep himself calm, “Those are the only prototype of those I’ve made, and it took me forever to make them.”
“Then why did you give them to GMZ?” I asked.
“I didn’t.”
I frowned, “Well, do you want me to leave them here? GMZ can contact me with my wrist communicator.”
“No,” Everett conceded, “I had been meaning to field test them anyway. We might as well see how they do in a real conflict.”
Jesse informed us that the Awesomecopter! was ready, and we all climbed in and took our seats. The roof above the helipad opened up, expanding outward from the center. Once we were in the air and racing towards DC, GMZ’s face popped up on the TV screen. He explained the situation, let the group listen to the video, and stated that Team Prevention would let us know the identities of the men as soon as they figured it out.
-3:30-
We were well on our way by this point: almost through West Virginia. Lady Caggiano and Nut’n Fancy were feeling like their normal selves, which you could tell by the fact that they were back to normal because they were bickering. It all started with Nut’n Fancy’s comment about him missing a debate that he wanted to watch, I think he said it was between Rush Limbaugh and Bill Maher. Lady Caggiano snorted and rolled her eyes.
Nut’n Fancy heard and saw this and snapped at Lady Caggiano with a, “What?”
“Nothing, Nut Fancy” Lady Caggiano replied sourly.
Before they could start fighting again, I turned up the song we were listening to, and began to sing along, “Damn, I think Kim Kardashian’s a man/She stomped him just cause he asked to put his hands/ On her massive Gluteus maximus again…”
Nut’n Fancy thankfully bit his lip, and the rest of the trip transpired without incident. By the time the Awesomecopter landed, I still had heard no new news about who these two men could be. It was after 5:00 and already dark. Damn. We entered the building stealthily through the back. Slowly, we inched into the pitch black darkness of the old building. We were in a hallway, a rather wide hallway with several large wooden crates piled up to the ceiling in places. I was in the lead; the glasses were acting as night-vision goggles, making the entire hallway perfectly visible to me. I moved slowly, keeping in mind that the rest of my team was essentially blind.
“Minigan…” Everett whispered nervously.
“Don’t worry guys,” I whispered back, “I see the room perfectly. There’s nothing in here- JESUS CHRIST WITH BIEBER HAIR!!!”


My team mates jumped backwards. Those who weren’t cursing were asking me, “What? What is it?!”
“Nothing,” I said. I then out a laugh as my teammates punched me in the back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I laughed, “I just couldn’t help myself. There’s a door ahead. I assume that the people we’re after are in that door.”

“Minigan, I think we might have found something,” GMZ announced through the speaker in my glasses so that the rest of the group could hear, “We were able to look up what the building was used for by the last tenants. Apparently it was used as a meeting place for an ancient cult named “Herrscher der Zeitgeist.” Rumor has it that they tried to open a portal to another dimension. We’re still looking in on it, but the cult tried to summon a pair of monsters to take over the world. I think two of the members may be trying to summon the monsters again.

“C’mon team!” I called. “Let’s stop these cultists!”

We ran the rest of the way down the hallway, I kicked the heavy steel door open, and we all rushed inside. The room we entered was nothing like I had envisioned in my head. Dimly lit, by torches mostly, whose light could barely light the area where we walked, let alone up to the towering ceiling. The moist, old stone walls and metal pillars showing only slightly in the darkness. At the far end, a large stone altar.
That’s what I was expecting. What we found instead was two men, one fat, bald, and bulbous, the other grey haired and bird like, talking to one another in front of a large camera crew and a studio audience. The room was blinding with United States imagery and colors. Well, at least with the glasses on it was. The desk where the two men sat lit up with red and blue lights and the backdrop was a giant screen displaying images of a waving American flag.

“Wait a damn minute,” Nut’n Fancy said suddenly, pulling the rest of us out of our dazzled stupor, “This is the debate! Go Limbaugh! You take out that God hating bastard!” Nut’n Fancy ran to the line of cameras, eagerly awaiting Limbaugh to hurl a slew of insults at Maher.

“Uh… GMZ, What is this?” I asked into the glasses.

“I’m not sure,” he replied “ scan the crowd for anything suspicious, and have the rest of Team Pugnastics keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. We’ll listen to the debate for anything that might sound like they’re summoning an ancient evil. I had done a quick scan of everyone in the audience and on the crew, and had found nothing, so I went back to watching Limbaugh and Maher.
There was no ancient evil in this debate- only the modern day kind. It started off slowly, simple jabs here and there. But after a while, the debate devolved into just them insulting one another. And while their talking points became uglier, both men became more hideous and bulbous. I don’t mean that in a figurative way, either. They we’re actually becoming more and more hideous and bulbous the more they argued. Soon, even Nut’n Fancy had noticed and stopped cheering on Limbaugh, and instead opted to stare in horror.
“GMZ, are you getting this?” I asked into my glasses.
“Yes,” GMZ’s voice answered back, “we’re using their images to cross reference with a google search.”
“Good,” I replied to him. I turned to my team and the whispered, ” Let’s quietly turn the cameras off so that we can stop these two from doing… Whatever the hell that they’re doing, in relative anomin-”
“Bill Maher and Rush Limbaugh, ” Lady Caggiano yelled, both interrupting me and ignoring the whole, “quietly” part, “please refrain from destroying the world. We are Awesomesquad! and we will stop you, so you should just give up now.”
Both men laughed. “So you’re the group that’s supposedly fighting ‘evil celebrities,’” The bloated Rush Limbaugh taunted. His voice had grown deeper and rougher, but he still had his familiar fat person lisp. He pointed to me, still laughing, “What the hell are you supposed to be, Moon Knight if he was a total pussy?”

“Who the fuck is Moon Knight?” I asked while laughing at his expectance of me getting such an obscure reference.

Holy Hell, he even has a staff. This dude is totally a rip off of me!

He wasn’t at all happy about me not getting the joke, so Bill Maher joined in by pointing at Nut’n Fancy and saying with his high pitched and demon like, yet still drawn out and nasally voice, “And look at this White trash Rambo! I bet this idiot can’t even spell his own name, let alone the horribly retarded name of their little group of fighters!”

Before I could stop him, Nut’n Fancy was charging at the now eight foot tall Bill Maher, firing both of his pistols at the pundit-Monster’s head. Every Bullet hit its target, but only made Maher stumble backwards a little. Once Nut’n Fancy got close enough, Maher made his move. Maher jumped over the charging Nut’n Fancy, grabbed him by the shoulders with his newly formed talons, and whipped him across the room by doing a front flip. Nut’n Fancy smashed into the far wall, taking out the food table on his way down to the floor.
The crowed panicked. All at once, they shambled over the seats to the nearest exit, many of them clawing their way over one another. Terrified shrieks and screams filled the room. Many members of the camera crew were also trying to get away from the two hideous monsters in the room.
“NOBODY MOVE!” the Rush Limbaugh monster roared, “EVERYONE GET BACK INTO YOU FUCKING SEATS, AND CAMERA CREW GET BACK TO YOUR STATIONS. We are going to continue with this debate, and nobody is fucking leaving until these bastards are all dead and the debate is over!”
The audience and crew, not wanting the pundit’s wrath to fall upon them, obliged. I turned to the Awesomesquad! members who were closest to me and said, “Ok, so bullets don’t do much harm to these two. Use everything at your disposal as a weapon. It looks like we aren’t going to have time to wait for GMZ to find out what Rush and Bill are. If you find out what it is, yell it to everyone, got it?”
Damien, Lady Caggiano, and Everett nodded.
“Good. Let’s fuck these two like we’re shooting a porno for ugly people.”
Lady Caggiano had a look of repulsion on her face. “Gross.”
“It’s just a figure of speech” I replied quickly.
I whipped out my Justice Stick and charged at Rush Limbaugh. Limbaugh squatted down into the defensive stance, his arms opened wide to either grab or smash me. To avoid this, I dropped to the floor and slid between his legs. As I did, I jabbed my Justice Stick at his fat roll, thinking that that must be his most vulnerable point. It was not. The metal head of my polearm bounced right off of his fat roll, leaving Limbaugh unharmed. Luckily, Limbaugh was too slow , and I was able to slide out from under him before he was able to crush me with his legs. I spun around and kicked the back of his knees. I did a backwards somersault and was back up on my feet.
Limbaugh’s knees buckled and he fell forward, narrowly missing Lady Caggiano, who had jumped out of the way at the last second. She glared at me, as if I wanted her to get crushed, and then went to join Everett, Criss, and Damien in battling Maher. That left me to fight Limbaugh alone. Shit.
Limbaugh pushed himself off of the ground and back onto his fat hooves. He was easily twelve feet tall at this point and still growing. Thinking quickly, I pulled out my Taser and pressed it into Limbaugh’s chest. It didn’t work either. With one swipe of his giant, lumpy hands, he knocked both the Taser and my Justice Stick out of my hands and to the other end of the room. Before I could react, Limbaugh had clasped his hands around my shoulders and was lifting me into the air towards his drooling, cavernous mouth. Inside, there were rows upon rows of teeth. Some of them were sharp, but all looked powerful enough to crush bone. I heard distant screams in my ear- Team Prevention was apparently so worked up that they forgot the mic was on. I lifted my legs up and pressed my feet against Limbaugh’s face, one on his lower lip and one on his nose, just preventing the Hell out of me getting eaten. Limbaugh didn’t give up, though. His strength easily over powered mine, and he was still able to move me closer to his mouth.
But just as I thought that I was about to have my head bitten off by some pundit-monster, something small, round, and black flew into his mouth. Limbaugh snapped his jaws shut. He was about to swallow the object whole when it exploded. Letting go of me and stumbling backwards into one of the cameras, Limbaugh howled in pain. I turned around to see Nut’n Fancy, blood trickling down the side of his face.
“Fire bomb,” Nut’n Fancy said, knowing what I was about to ask, “Since bullets didn’t affect’em, I figured fire might.”
“Good thinking, Nut’n Fancy,” I replied while taking deep breaths of sweet, sweet air.
We turned to face the hideous monster Rush Limbaugh had become when we heard an ear piercing screech from behind the other end of the room. The Bill Maher Monster was having an easier time fighting us than the Rush Limbaugh monster. I couldn’t see where Criss had gone to, but Everett was knocked out in the rafters overhead, hanging from several wires like a marionette puppet and Lady Caggiano was lying on the floor in front of the giant American flag screen, trying to force herself back onto her feet. Damien looked to be the only one who hadn’t been harmed physically, but he was just standing there in a daze, even as Maher’s taloned hand came swooping towards his face. In a flash I was there, diving towards Damien, and knocking him off of his feet before Maher could cut him up. I could feel Maher’s razor sharp claws stir up the air as they narrowly missed mine and Damien’s bodies. Damien and I hit the solid floor hard. Still holding onto Damien, I rolled us away from Maher as Maher threw his clawed hands to the floor. Again, he had just missed us.
Maher dug his claws deep into the floor, ripped out large chunks of the concrete, and threw them at us, roaring all the while. I was able to dodge them, but my cloak got stuck under the larger piece. With Maher bearing down on Damien and I, I franticly tried to unfasten my cloak from my armor. I was too late. Maher raised his hands and sent them crashing down on us. Suddenly, a burst of fire shot up from beside me and hit Maher in the face. Maher stumbled backwards screeching, and a second blast of fire came from the ceiling.
“Thanks for saving me,” Damien said, slowly lifting himself off the ground.
“Don’t mention it,” I replied as I stood up and finished unclasping my cloak.
“I don’t know what happened,” he continued, “I was fighting him just fine, but once he roared at me, I forgot everything… even how to move.
“Really?! OK, so they can stupefy us with their roars,” I replied,
Everett had jumped down from the rafters and continue to spray fire at Bill Maher. Damien lit a fire with his wrist mounted flame throwers and joined Everett. Lady Caggiano had gotten back up and was fighting Rush Limbaugh with Nut’n Fancy. Criss was still nowhere to be seen.
“GMZ? Have you figured out how to defeat these two yet?”
“No, but we’re close. Apparently the monsters actually take the bodies of a member of the cult.”
GMZ replied, “but we still don’t know what they are or how to defeat them.”

“Ok. And where the Hell is Criss?”
“We’re not sure either. We saw Bill maher throw him at a wall, but he vanished right as he hit it.”

My Fight or Flight instinct was in hyperdrive too much for me to be too worried about Criss. I lit a fire with my wrist mounted flame throwers and then joined in fighting Bill Maher with Lady Caggiano and Nut’n Fancy. My flame throwers were doing their job quite quite well, but with one swipe with Bill Maher’s gnarly and grey talons, he managed to destroy them both. With the butane covering my hands and forearms, I was lucky that the igniter didn’t set me on fire. My luck, however, ran out just at that moment, because with another swipe of his monstrous paws, Maher sliced through my armored vest and into my flesh.
Now, I remember feeling my blood spill out from my chest, but I do not remember there being any pain. Maybe I was in shock, or maybe my adrenaline was running so high in my bloodstream that I simply blocked out the pain, or maybe it was the powerful uppercut that Bill Maher gave me with his scaly hand that made me forget about the pain in my chest. Wait. Yeah, it was that last one.
He punched me so hard that for a few long seconds, my feet were off the ground. Then I was on my back, the world above me a blur of color and light. To this day, that was the hardest punch I’ve ever taken, and to this day, I still don’t know where I got the will power to stand back up.

I stumbled forward, everything still a shifting blur. Man, I should’ve just stayed down.
“You should’ve just stayed down,” Bill Maher’s inhuman voice said somewhere ahead of me, conveniently vocalizing what I had just thought, “You’re just like a diabetic redneck at a candy bar convention: you’re both idiots and you both are about to eat shit and die.”
“NOOOO!!” Nut’n Fancy’s voice cried out from somewhere behind me. Something dark rushed in front of me. There was sounds of a struggle, and then the sound of something sharp stabbing into flesh.
And that’s when the focus my vision came back. In front of me, facing Bill Maher, stood Nut’n Fancy. Maher’s arm reached down to Nut’n Fancy’s midsection, and I could see Maher’s claws sticking out of Nut’n Fancy’s back.With a sinister grin across his savage beak, Maher pulled his claws out of Nut’n Fancy’s stomach. Then, with one solid kick/ punch from his bird like feet, Maher sent Nut’n Fancy flying across the room and back onto the Craft services table.
Damien, Everett, Lady Caggiano and I stopped fighting the two pundit monsters and ran to Nut’n Fancy’s aid.
From behind us, Maher and Limbaugh roared with laughter. When the camera men tried to pan over to us, Limbaugh shouted, “No! You keep the cameras directly on us! You will only show those people when we destroy them. The world will know not to try to take us on!” He then turned to Maher and asked, “Are you ready to end this, you Godless Liberal?”
“Only of you are, you socially backwards Conservative.”
“Nut’n Fancy, are you Ok?” Lady Caggiano asked as she knelt beside him, her knee in what looked like it used to be a fruit platter.
Nut’n Fancy coughed up blood. “What do ya think?”
“Guys,” Everett interrupted, “They’re coming.”
“N-no,” Lady Caggiano stammered, not listening to Everett, ” We’ll get you out of here and fix you up. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Guys?!” Everett cried.

“Everett, you, Damien and I will take care of them,” I said, “Lady Caggiano, give me your flame throwers.”

“No!” Damien exclaimed, ” You have butane on your hands! You’ll just kill yourself. We’ll handle it. Just make sure Nut’n Fancy stays alive.”
Nut’n Fancy coughed up more blood as the pool of blood beneath us grew wider, “I’m finished and I know it.” “Lady Caggiano,” he said reaching for her hands, “I know that we’ve never really gotten along, what with me being an upright citizen and you being a filthy Liberal and all-”
Lady Caggiano interrupted,”Look, I know you’re dying right now, but go fuck yourself.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said weakly, “We’ve had our differences, but I’ve always respected you. You’ve stood by me in battle, and I know just how brave person you are.”
“They’re getting stronger!” Damien yelled over the roars of the two pundits he and Everett were fighting, “Fire isn’t doing as much damage as what it did!”
“Well… Thanks Nut’n Fancy,” Lady Caggiano replied with tears in her eyes, “You’re the bravest and most heroic man I’ve ever known.”
“There’s one more thing,” Nut’n Fancy gasped, his skin growing paler by the second, “Kill these bastards for me.”
And with that, Nut’n Fancy closed his eyes, let go of his last breath, and was gone.
Four simultaneous “No’s” rang out from my glasses’ earpiece.
That moment after Nut’n Fancy’s passing hung in the air for a long time. I remembered watching his videos online and thinking, this guy is crazy. He needs to be on my team. I remembered Lady Caggiano and I meeting with him for the first time. I remembered how we had to promise him that we wouldn’t wage war on decent, hardworking Americans, “Like those Liberals are.” I remembered how many times I had to gas him because he and Lady Caggiano were arguing. I had gassed him earlier that day. Was this all my fault? He’d still be alive if I hadn’t brought him along today. And he had saved my life twice this fight. I couldn’t even save him once? How bad of a leader am I?
I looked up from Nut’n Fancy’s body to Lady Caggiano; her whole body was shaking. When she looked at me, tears were running down her face and in her eyes. But behind her tears, there was fire. It was an angry fire, a vengeful fire, a fire that thirsted for blood. These fuckers were going to die tonight.
In an unnervingly calm manner, Lady Caggiano asked, “Everett, may I please have a can of Knockout gas?”
Everett pulled a can of knockout gas off of his belt with his free hand and tossed it in Lady Caggiano’s direction. She pulled the pin and held it close to her face. Once the white smoke started pouring out, she inhaled it with deep breaths, and managed to breathe in most of the smoke. When she had her fill, she threw the can across the room and stood up. Her eyes had changed color from a light brown to violet, and her pupils had dilated. The veins in her arms, neck, and forehead bulged and pulsed with her heartbeat, making her look like a seasoned steroid user.
Bill Maher, finally so powerful that even fire stopped hurting him, stepped through Damien and Everett’s flame blasts. With one swipe of his giant grey hands, Maher knocked my two teammates across the room and out of his way. I stood my ground. Lady Caggiano maybe in rage mode, but she’s still going to need backup. I was not going to lose another teammate toda-
“Minigan!” GMZ shouted into my ear. It distracted me enough that Bill Maher was able to whip one of his giant hands at me and knock me into the front of the stands of terrified spectators.
“What?!” I yelled.
“Hey don’t you get testy with me,” he retorted, “I was just trying to tell you what these two guys are.”
He loaded an image of a terrifying beast, somewhat similar in appearance to the two were fighting onto my glasses, completely obscuring my vision.
“What the Shit, GMZ?! I’m fighting here! Take the photo down!”
There was a roar ahead of me. I lifted my glasses up just in time to see the huge desk come flying at me and the crowd. I curled into a ball and braced for impact. One second went by. Then two. After the third, I looked up to see Criss standing between the me and the desk, which was hovering several inches off of the floor.
“Criss!” I exclaimed before I remembered that he had been gone all this time, “Where the fuck were you?!”
“They threw me through a bunch of walls,” he answered, “I had to find my way back to this room in the dark.”
“Well,” I said, taking in mind that he did just save my life along with all the people being held captive’s lives, “Thank God you’re OK”
“Oh so you’re just going to ignore my important information then,” GMZ snapped.
“Sorry, GMZ,” I said pulling my glasses down, ‘What were you saying?”
GMZ hurridly said, “I figured it out when Limbaugh said that he wanted the cameras to be on him and Maher. They want the world to see them.” “Do you know what the word ‘Zeitgeist’ means?” he asked rhetorically.
“Isn’t it the name of a mediocre Smashing Pumpkins album?” I joked.

“Really? Jokes at a time like this?”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway,” GMZ continued, “’Zeitgeist’ means, ‘Spirit of the times.’ It means the mood of the period based on the ideas and beliefs of the time. Think about it, Minigan, what would the current Zeitgeist be?”
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I admitted while I looked at the picture on the glasses, which was actually the only thing I could look at. They did look similar, but not exactly alike. “Is it everyone’s desire for fame? Also, take the fucking picture down- I need to see what’s happening with my team!”
“YES! But not only that, it’s attention and how easily obtainable it is now! The internet has turned every single one of us into attention whores!”
The image vanished, and was replaced with the room again. Several of the captives were looking at me a little strange- although, I did just have a one sided conversation with a pair of sunglasses. In front of the cameras, Damien, Everett, Lady Caggiano, and Criss were fighting the now humongous Bill Maher and Rush Limbaugh. Maher had grown a spiked tail at some point and was trying to use it to get lady Caggiano off of him. Lady Caggiano had climbed up his back and was trying to strangle Maher with a length of thick chain. Criss had levitated Rush, who was now sporting tusks, into the air while Everett and Damien threw whatever they could get their hands on at him.
“Alright,” I said, as I jumped down from the stands and onto the stage floor, “But how does that help me defeat these two?”
“Don’t you get it, Minigan?” GMZ asked, “They’re trolls. How do you defeat a troll.”
I grabbed a length of fallen pipe, ran up to the hovering Limbaugh, and started beating him with it. “I don’t fucking know!” I yelled, “In Harry Potter, they knock him out with a club. In The Hobbit, Bilbo tricks them into staying out until the sun rises. In the fairytail, they answer his riddles fucking three. None of these stories are consistant! Stop asking me questions that you already know the answer to! I’m in the middle of a goddamn battle, I don’t need your mind games!”
“Internet Trolls!” GMZ screamed, “They’re Internet Trolls. They get their power by pissing people off. So one last question, douchebag, how do you deal with someone trolling on the internet?”
“You don’t feed them… Jesus Christ with face tattoos! We have to ignore these guys!”

I took the jagged edge of the pipe and jabbed it into Limbaugh’s side, “Wait a second, how the fuck do we ignore these guys? They’re sixteen feet tall monsters. They won’t let us just turn around and stick our fingers in our ears.”

“You’ll just need to find a way to get everyone to pay attention to you instead,” GMZ replied.”
Phlegm chimed in with, “You guys are doing great, Minigan! Everyone on Facebook and Twitter think so too.”

“Why are you guys on Twitter at a time like this?!” I yelled.
Not waiting or expecting a reply, I dropped the pipe and backed away. I was only making Maher and Limbaugh more powerful by doing that. I looked around the studio, just trying to find something, anything that would cause enough of a distraction so that the cameras, the live audience, and everyone watching it on TV and online would stop thinking about Limbaugh and Maher. What is more appealing to humanity than violence? I asked myself, what would they rather watch? I looked around the room, just hoping for some kind of clue or sign or something to help me figure it out. There was not a goddamn thing to give me that clue. Fuck… Wait,Fuck! Sex! Sex is way more distracting than violence! I just need to get the entire world thinking about sex instead of these assholes. I looked around. Lady Caggiano was the closest woman around, and she was way too busy trying to strangle Maher to want to strip or have sex on camera. I decided I was going to have to do this on my own.
I yelled to my teammates, “Keep them away from the cameras! I know how to stop them.”
I then took of my shredded armored vest and undershirt. And then I dropped my pants. Never in my life have I been happier that I had shaved my pubes earlier in the day than that day. The crowd gasped, and then went silent. Every single cameraman’s mouth dropped. Then, they slowly turned their cameras towards me. When my teammates and the men they were fighting saw me, they instantly stopped fighting. Criss even dropped Limbaugh. Already, Limbaugh and Maher were looking smaller and more human. I needed to keep it up.
“No no no no!” Bill Maher yelled as freed himself from Lady Caggiano’s grasp and ran towards me, “Sarah Palin is a stupid twat!”
Lady Caggiano was able to tackle him before he made it into the sight of the camera. I started doing pelvic thrusts in order to keep everyone’s attention focused on me. This was actually really exciting. All the attention being focused on me, it made me feel powerful, like I was in control. Although I would never admit it to anyone else on Awesomesquad!, I did kind of enjoy it.
“Uh, Minigan,” Danica’s voice said in my ear, “Was that the only way you could think to get everyone’s attention?”
“Well, did you have a better idea?”
There was no reply.
“That’s what I thought.”
Several feet away, Lady Caggiano had pinned down the almost completely human Bill Maher. As she put her knife to his throat, I heard him say, “But where will you get you Liberal Social Commentary?”
“Stewart and Colbert do a much better job, and they’re much less douchey than you,” she replied hotly.
“And what about shock laughs, huh? Who will you get those from?”
Lady Caggiano smiled an evil smile and spat, “If I want to hear some jokes that are only funny once, I’ll just watch a Sasha Baron Cohen movie.”
Knowing his end was near, Maher screamed, “At least half of the Commandments are stupid!”
Lady Caggiano then slit his throat. Bill Maher eyes and mouth opened wide and emitted a bright, pulsing, white light. When the light went out, Bill Maher’s body withered and blackened into a black skeleton.
“Michael J Fox, is clearly exaggerating, if not faking his condition,” Rush Limbaugh yelled as he too broke free of my teammates and strode towards me. While walking passed Lady Caggiano, he punched her hard in the face, knocking her to the ground. He then yelled at me, “You think you’ve won? You think that just by flopping your little dick around, you could steal all my attention away? Well, excuse me, but I’m not like that Pansy Birdman Bill Maher, and I won’t be taken down so easily.” He then turned to the crowd and cameras and yelled, “Women who use birth control are sluts and whores! I’ve been wanting to say that for a long time, I’ve just never had the chance.”
Limbaugh pushed me out of the way so that he was in full view of the cameras. Thinking quickly, I stepped to the side so that I was fully visible in the background. I then began to gyrate my hips, making my flaccid penis swing in circles.
Limbaugh had no idea I was doing this when he screamed, “Feminism was established so as to allow unattractive women access to the mainstream of society!”
I gyrated harder, but Limbaugh still managed to get enough attention away from me that he was able to get some of his power back. Without wasting any time, he turned around and roared right in my face. I felt like I was dropped into a thick paste. I wasn’t in pain, but I still was unable to move, but I could still think and move my eyes. But still, I was unable to move, so I was only able to watch him swing his fist at my face. I heard a crunch, and suddenly the world fell from sight and was replaced with a blander, less colorful world. I watched Everett’s high tech glasses fall to the floor in several irreparable pieces. A quick glance to Everett showed me his distraught face and that he had seen what had happened to his prototype. Limbaugh turned back to the cameras began a rant about the unattractiveness of President Carter’s daughter. Once he was sure that Limbaugh wouldn’t see, Criss kicked over my Justice Stick. With the tips of my toes, I flipped it into the air and caught it when it reached eye level. Without a moment’s hesitation I did a jumping somersault over Rush’s head and landed facing him. Then, with a quick spin of the pole arm, I slashed at Limbaugh’s face. Defensively, he stumbled backwards until he reached the American Flag screen wall. I thrusted my Justice Stick into his chest. He stopped fighting me at that second, and looked at me with total shock on his face.
Under my breath, I muttered to him, “Go back to Hell, you woman hating, Liberal bashing, bible thumping, pill popping son of a cunt.” I then forced my Justice stick the rest of the way through his chest. It cracked the screen, and suddenly the room lit up with long white electric arcs. Just like with Maher, Limbaugh’s mouth and eyes opened wide and emitted a white light of their own. Once the screen had stopped flickering and Limbaugh was reduced to a black skeleton, I pulled up my pants, put my tattered vest back on, and put on my cloak, which was still under the piece of concrete.
I then turned to the crowd and stated to them, “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you roast a pig.”
For a few seconds, there was silence. Everyone in the crowd stared at me in shock. Then, someone began to clap. Then another. Then another. Then the whole crowd and camera crew were clapping. My chest swelled with satisfaction as the crowd applauded me as I stood there. Not sure of what else to do, I beckoned Criss, Damien, Everett, and Lady Caggiano in front of the cameras, and together we bowed.

The victory ride home didn’t feel anything like our past victory rides. Normally the trips back to the Awesomebase! were filled with music, singing and alcohol. This time, however was silent and still. We all sat in our seats and didn’t do much as speak to one another. In the center of us all was Nut’n Fancy’s body, wrapped in the only shroud we could get on such short notice: the Craft Food services table cloth that Nut’n Fancy died on. You could still see some grapes and a pretzel or two wrapped with him. Across from me sat Everett, who refused to look at me or my hands, which were cradling his mangled glasses.
That trip back to the base felt like both the longest and shortest trip to the base ever. With the weight of the mood bearing down on all of our chests combined with us sitting silently with only our thoughts and memories of our fallen team member made the trip feel like we were in the Awesomecopter! for days. However once we landed on the helipad, the grim reality of what had to be done next made me realize how unprepared I was to preform the last rights For Nut’n Fancy.
The members of Team Prevention were waiting for us at the Helipad. Each of them was wearing black dress clothes and it looked like they all had showered recently as well.
“It’s a wonderful and loving sentiment, guys,” I said to them, ” but it was also unnecessary- we still have to dig his grave.”
We all grabbed a shovel and made our way to the yard. We all began digging: Team Prevention didn’t change out of their dress clothes, and Team Pugnastics didn’t bother to change out of our battle gear or even dress our wounds. We just dug.
After a while of silence, I was beginning to think that digging the grave was going to be just like the Awesomecopter! ride home, but then Phlegm started telling the story of how Nut’n Fancy taught her how to shoot. We began to laugh at her jokes, and by the time she had finished her story, the mood had lightened dramatically. Soon, everyone was sharing their favorite Nut’n Fancy story: how he would fire arrows at Criss and Criss would try to catch them, the time when he and Lady Caggiano were arguing to the point that they were close enough to kiss, and how Lady Caggiano was afraid he might try, when he, Damien, and Everett built the obstacle course in the yard, and how one might he got drunk and got stuck in the one of the tires. We all had a good laugh at that one.
After a while, Lady Caggiano, Phlegm, and Dancia were getting tired, so they went inside to clean and dress Nut’n Fancy’s body. I reminded them to check the death letter in his file first, to make sure we buried him as he wished. They went off to do so, and about an hour later, about one in the morning, the rest of us had finished digging the grave. We headed to the infirmary, still covered in dirt and blood, to carry the casket up. When we walked in, the girls were waiting for us, looking as solemn as ever, and the casket sat open.
“Why is there so many guns in his casket?” Damien asked.
I looked into the casket. There had to be at least fifteen guns in there with him. He had a pistol in each hand, and an AK 47 and a M15 on either side of him, lining the coffin. Then several different kinds of pistols and revolvers were strategically placed around the coffin.
“It was in his death letter,” Phlegm replied.
“Did he ask for the whole damn armory?”
“No,” Danica answered, “just the ones he owned. Thank God he kept all of his separate.”
“Does he think he can take his guns with him?” I asked sarcastically, “Why would he need them in Heaven? Is he going to try and keep the Muslims out?”
“Oh, Minigan, there was one more thing,” Lady Caggiano said uncomfortably, “that Nut’n Fancy had in his Death Letter. He wants you to stop using your ‘Jesus Christ wearing something funny’ line.”
“Really?” I sighed, “Well, there goes that catchphrase.”
We carried the casket up to the yard and lowered it onto the lowering platform. We stood around the casket for about a minute and prayed for Nut’n Fancy in our own way. Finally, I said, “Today we lost not only a hero, but a member of our family. We had our differences with him, sure, but he was there for us when we needed him. He fought for us. He sacrificed so much for us. And today, he sacrificed his life for us…for me. He had saved my life twice during that battle, and that second time cost him his. I will never be able to repay my debt to him. So, here’s to you, Nut’n Fancy, We will never forget you.”
I pressed the button that lowered the casket into the ground. As it lowered, Several rockets shot up into the air from the tree line. They exploded overhead in a vivid display of reds whites and blues. When the casket reached the bottom, dozens more fireworks were set off, lighting up the sky as if it were day. When the fireworks were done, and the night returned, we grabbed our shovels and buried the casket.
As we stepped away from the burial plot, walked up to Everett.
“You destroyed the glasses.” Everett stated, his face stony and close to tears.
“I swear I didn’t mean to,” I pleaded, “Limbaugh stupefied me before he punched me. I couldn’t move. I’m so sorry.”
“I worked so hard on those.”
“I know. And I am really, deeply sorry. Can you make a new pair?” I asked.
Everett continued without answering me, “I was going to sell them to Apple. They were going to revolutionize the way we communicate and access the Internet. I was going to have them name it iGlasses.”
“You’re a dick, Minigan,” GMZ’s voice jokingly spat from behind me.
I turned around to face the hacking bastard, “You’re the one who took them from Everett’s lab without asking. And you did it just so that you guys could watch the fight.”
I turned back to offer Everett my help in building a new prototype of the iGlasses, but he was already walking away from the rest of us with his head down and his shoulders slumped forward and entered the base.
We all got cleaned up in our separate rooms, and then made our way to the infirmary to stitch each other up. Everett still didn’t want anything to do with me, so Lady Caggiano and I paired up to stitch each other up.
“So, Everett’s pissed at you.”
“Yep.”
“He’ll get over it,” she reassured me, “It wasn’t your fault and he knows it. Trust me, he will come around. He always does. Holy Hell, Minigan, your chest is going to need so many stitches.”
I looked down at my chest. Maher’s talons left three diagonal gashes across my entire chest. Luckily, with all the sweating and dirt that has been on them since I got them, the gashes were clean and showed no signs of infection. It took several more hours for us all to get stitched and bandaged up, and by the time Lady Caggiano had finished my last stitch, it was 5:00 AM. We were the last two in the infirmary, so we cleaned up our mess, turned off the lights and went our separate ways. I made a quick stop at the helipad to pick up Everett’s iGlasses and then went to his room. I knocked on the door, and his voice on the other side beckoned me in. He was sitting up in his bed, staring at me with surprise.
Before he could say anything, I walked over to his nightstand and placed the iGlasses on the top. I said, “They worked really well, but you need to add in an override system for the remote image loading, or at least make it so that the images are transparent enough that you can look through them if you need to. GMZ practically left me blind after I got knocked into the stands, and I had to wait for him to take the picture down. Oh, and this may be because I wasn’t told much about how to work them, but I didn’t know how to access the internet on them.”
I walked back to the door and before I closed it behind me, I said, “You really should get some sleep.”
Once the door was closed behind me, I stood in the dark hallway for a second. I stared at the door to Nut’n Fancy’s room, the room that he would no longer need, and then went off to my own for some much needed sleep.

The Official Awesomesquad! Roster!

I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time now, seeing as though I cannot write an Awesomesquad! Assemble! Post under 3,000 words anymore. I just think it’s pointless for me to add the roster at the beginning of every post, especially where there’s 6 damn Awesomesquad posts so far. It’s pointless and annoying and a waste of space for anyone who has read any of the previous Awesomesquad! Assemble! posts before. Plus, this saves me a lot of time and hassle whenever I want to post and New Awesomesquad! blog. Plus, this makes it easy for anyone new to these posts to catch up relatively quickly. See? I am a goddamned Jeanious!

So here is my list of current and former members of Awesomesquad! For Each, I will explain what role they serve in my group, either showcase a video or describe their abilities in a short paragraph, A spoiler alert followed by their status as either “current” or “former”, and if they are a former member, a link to their last post. I would like to point out that it might not be the last post that they’re in, but timeline-wise, that one will be their final one. I will also briefly describe what character traits they each bring to the team.

In case you were wondering, Yes, I am writing this because I plan on posting another Awesomesquad! blog next week. We’ll meet new characters! And see the return of some old ones! Exclamation Points!

The away team: Team Pugnastics

Code Name- Lady Caggiano

How the leader found her- Knows her personally, Best friend

Role- Second in Command/ Creator of Baked Goods

Ability- First of all, she knows Tae Kwon Do, so she can kick some ass. Secondly, due to her motherly nature, she loves to bake and take care of people. This means that she will also help as a medic and be a morale booster.

Personality traits- Feminist, Liberal, intelligent, Catty. Despite being the morale booster, she is most likely to get into arguments with other people, especially if they’re conservative leaning. She also tends to start problems with the other females of the group, just to keep things interesting. Of course, these conflicts are always resolved when we meet one of our enemies


Status- Former Member

Code Name- Knifemaster

Well, see if I let you into my superhero club now, Jibbles. Fucking dick.

How the leader found him- Knows him personally, Best friend

Role- Second in Command/ Knife Master

Ability- Has an extensive knowledge of weapons and has the ability to scare the other team members into doing what he says, which is usually what I say.

Personality traits- Loyal, shithouse crazy. Usually, he is loyal and unquestioning to the authority figure (me) but still willing to call the leader out on bullshit if he feels that the group’s wellbeing may be in jeopardy.

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Damien Walters


How the leader found him- Internet

Role- Parkor/ gymnastics/ fight coach

Ability- This:

Personality traits- Strong willed, distinctly British, Usually but heads with the leader

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Everett Bradford

How the leader found him- Internet

Role- Weapons Technician

Ability- This:

Personality traits- intelligent , creative, Low key, Meek but quick witted in battle. He is usually intimidated by the other members of the group, but he is not afraid to stand up when one of them needs him.

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Jesse James

How the leader found him- TV, his show

Role- Vehicle builder/ Mechanic/ Driver

Ability- Monster Garage. Well, technically, he was only the host, but still…

Personality traits- Straightforward, Behind the times- Pop Culture-wise

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Criss Angel

Seriously, fix your hair. You look like an asshole.

Role- Mind Freak

How the leader found him-TV, his show

Ability- He’s magic:

Personality traits- Oblivious to the extent of his powers, almost famous so he has some doucebaggy qualities about him. He’s mostly the butt of jokes, but he takes it in good humor.

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Series of Japanese Symbols (usually called Steve)

How the leader found him-Internet, Stumbleupon

Role- Stealth/ Covert Ops expert

Ability- This:

Personality traits- Angry, hot headed, intelligent. He has a serious problem with Minigan because he thinks that Minigan is racist against Asians, even though it was Minigan’s idea to bring him on.

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Mr. Expendable

Such a shady character should be a perfect addition to my team!

How the leader found him- Knows him personally, Coworker

Role- Test subject/ standard fighter

Ability- can regenerate lost tissue quickly

Personality traits- up beat, loyal, willing to be the test subject, brave in battle

Status- Current Member

Code Name- Nut’n Fancy

How the leader found him- Internet, Best friend (turned Knifemaster) shows him videos of Nut’n Fancy shooting.

Role- Gun/ Ammunitions expert

Ability- He knows guns:

Personality traits- Extreme Conservative, outspoken, insanely loyal to the group even if he and Lady Caggiano argue all the damn time.

Status- Former member
The Home Team, Team Prevention/ Protection:
Code Name- Danica McKellar

I’d like to solve for her right angle with my hypotenuse.

How the leader found her- Internet, Probably a Cracked.com article

Role- Crime solver, and when needed, spy

Ability- Danica is a math genius. She uses her math whiz abilities to solve crimes. You know, just like that show Numb3rs. Plus, since she’s also an actress, she can infiltrate whatever organization we need her to.

Personality traits- Wildly intelligent and manipulative, a flirt, at times can be as catty as Lady Caggiano, loves to mess with everyone in the group.

Status- Current Member

Code Name- GMZ

Role- Hacker

How the leader found him- Internet- Found by Lady Caggiano

Ability- He is good at hacking. He once hacked into several prominent celebrities Twitter accounts.

Personality traits- Loner, intelligent, prefers the control room to the rest of the Awesomebase! He has a bit of a short temper, but it can be tamed with some good food, like Lady Caggiano’s baked goods.

Status- Current Member

Code Name-Phlegm

She actually killed that shark

Role-Team Psychologist

How the leader found her- knows her personally, best friend’s sister

Ability-it isn’t so much of an “ability” but she keeps every member of the team mentally stable. This is important, what with all the killing we do.

Personality Traits-sweet and caring, has a serious case of bloodlust. She has threatened Minigan on at least one occasion.

Status- Current Member.

Code Name- Derren Brown

Role-interrogator

How the leader found him- TV, his show

Ability-he’s a mentalist, so he is able to get people to talk people into telling him what they want. Here’s a video:

Personality Traits- A follower but does trick people into doing things for him, excellent speaker, intelligent

Status-Current Member

Code Name- Coco Montoya (Sean McCormick)

His eyes are dreamy in a “I’m going to rape you” kind of way

Role-Genetic scientist

How the leader found him- Knows him personally- coworker.

Ability- He has studied the Human Genome for years and has developed methods the alter a person’s genetic code to prevent sickness or give them superpowers.

Personality Traits-Hippy, abhors violence, nerdy, Intelligent


Status- Former Member

Code Name- Raul

Role- Maintenance man, occasional fighter for Team Pugnastics

How the Leader found him- He helped build the Awesomebase!

Ability- Knows guns and can shoot them well, also knows many different areas of construction and carpentry.

Personality traits- Loves women. He is easily distracted by them and, on occasion, has fought agaist Awesomesquad if they are battling against one. He is also a hard worker, and willing to help out however he can, mostly because Minigan wanted to keep him around after the Awesomebase! was built.

Spoiler Alert!

Status: Former Member

The Chick TV Show That Every Guy Needs to Watch

So, my blog is (for reasons unknown to me) pretty popular with women. I think this is great, but I’ve always considered men my age to be my target demographic. That’s why this week I’m going to talk about the ABC Family show, Pretty Little Liars. No! Men, don’t leave!

No thank you, Mr. Blackwood. I’m just going to take my big gun and go home.

Pretty Little Liars, for you men who don’t have a sister/ girlfriend/ effeminate boyfriend (I’m not here to judge) who watches the show while you’re around, is a murder mystery/ high school dramathon for women. I want all of you to focus on the murder mystery aspect of this because it is absolutely crucial in you understanding why you should watch it. But before I get to that, let me introduce you to the main characters.

First off, we have the sexy piece of jail-bait and perpetually confused looking Aria:

She’s probably wondering what her weird ass name means.

Then there’s the kind of lanky, but still totally hot piece of jail-bait Spencer:

Can I take back that “Lanky” comment and replace it with, “Sexually aggressive?”

Our third main character is Hanna, who looks a lot like Tara Reid:

“I do not look like a washed up whore.”

Then there’s Emily, the Lesbian:

Did I mention that she’s an incredibly hot lesbian?

And last but not least, the very hot, total bitch of a best friend to the other four girls, and the one who ends up getting her ass murdered, Alison:

You just know that she knows she’s a horrific bitch.

Yes, Alison is the murder victim. Don’t worry, that isn’t supposed to be a surprise. That is pretty much given to you before the opening credits. And this is important to know because someone is stalking the other four girls, using Alison’s nickname, A, as their name. This “A” seems to know everything about the four girls, from the secrets that Alison knew (like how another hot chick named Jenna went blind) to the new ones that had come up since Alison’s disappearance.

This brings me to my first point. This really girly show with really girly drama has a pretty damn good murder mystery in it. Let’s look at this mystery. So fellas, Alison and the other girls are having a slumber party right before the start of their sophomore year of high school. When the four girls wake up, Alison is gone. Fast forward to a year later, Aria, Hannah, Emily and Spencer begin to receive texts from someone who knows all of their secrets, someone who only identifies themselves as A.

A, to put it simply, is bat-shit crazy good at stalking people. Here is a shot from the second season, where she left a single box of Alfa-bits for Emily to find that was filled with only the letter A and a note.

Seriously, this is expert level crazy. Heath Ledger’s Joker couldn’t fuck with this.

Holy shit. Just think of how much forethought that would take. You would have to know that Emily likes Alpha-bits, that she would want Alpha-bits that day, and even what box of Alpha-bits she would grab or be given. And while that may be the most extreme instance of stalking from A, this mystery person has a treasure trove of fucked up ways to torment these girls, like giving each a doll that commands them to ruin the lives of their loved ones, or replace their take out with earthworms, or making custom fortune cookies for the girls, or giving a massage to Emily without Emily realizing it, or breaking into their houses on a regular basis.

Unfortunately for the girls, they are kind of idiots (teenagers, Am I right?!) and instead of going directly to the police to tell them about their blackmailer who may have played a role in their friend’s death, they decide to not tell a soul and deal with this problem on their own.

Granted, it’s probably for the best, seeing as though the police in the town they live in are both corrupt and just plain terrible at their jobs. In the first episode, Hannah is caught shoplifting sunglasses, and her mom has sex with the one of the officers just to get the charges off Hannah. Not only is that bribery, I think that counts as prostitution as well. But not only that, these four girls were brought in for questioning multiple times and not once did the police think to check their cellphones for clues. They don’t even think to check the phone records. Hell, a season 2 flashback of Alison shows that she was smart enough to think of that. That means that a 15 year old girl is more adept at solving crimes than the entire police force of this town.

But all of this is why PLL is a great mystery. Alison, as you see through the flashbacks, is a ruthless bitch that treated everyone like shit, and held dark secrets of all her friends. But she is also disturbingly intelligent and had a knack for blackmail. Everyone, including her friends, had a reason to want her dead. Plus, her murder would be easy enough to pull off, since the police force in Rosewood in staffed with drooling idiots. This means that the girls have to solve the mystery on their own, without help from their parents or law enforcement. It’s like Harry Potter but with more murder, less magic, and more sexy underage girls… So it’s like a better version of Harry Potter.

And speaking of sexy underage girls- Men, I’m sure you all know the phrase: “High school girls are great because I keep getting older, but they stay the same age.” Well the town of Rosewood Pennsylvania takes that phrase and turns it into a way of life. In the first episode alone, there is one count of statutory rape, a referenceto when a college student made out with a high school student, and an implied future relationship between that same high school student and a goddamn medical student. And none of that is counting all the spying on teenage girls that goes on in that town. Oh, and that count of statutory? That was between a student and a new teacher. In the teacher’s defense, the high school student he boned did have a fake ID with her at the bar she was drinking at. However, the fact that he continued the relationship well into the second season kind of negates that. And sure, all these guys are in their twenties, so the age difference isn’t that bad, but it still crosses that age of consent line.

What I’m getting at here is that we men should watch this show simply because, let’s be honest, we all have those fantasies about getting with hot high school student, but we all know what those implications would be. We’d all get fucking arrested. But that isn’t a threat in Rosewood. It’s like the age of consent is two years earlier in this small town. Actually, no. It isn’t like the age of consent is lower; the age of consent has to be lower. It’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s the only way that that amount of relationships with minors could possible without the federal government starting to test the tap water for contaminants that could be causing this.

Dudes, I’m not going to sit here and lie to you and say that girl things and drama are not part of the show. They definitely are. Many episodes play out more like a soap opera rather than a murder mystery. But you have to make it through those episodes. After all, we’re men. We muscle through things, whether it be Russian Winters or really big hamburgers, we fucking fight to the end. And besides, it’s not like women have the market cornered on drama bullshit. Every single Crime Drama on CBS is filled with that garbage. If you ever watch a crime drama that has one male and one female lead, you know that at some point they’re going to bone. No pun intended, Bones.

Actually, I found that humerus.

And sure those shows have lots of shooting and explosions that feed our manly appetite for death and destruction, but that’s because those are action dramas. PLL is a mystery drama. There’s a difference, bros.
So I guess what I’m getting at is give the damn show a chance, fellas. I know that it’s targeted for younger women, but there’s stuff for us guys too. And If you’re a fan of mysteries as I am, then you can at least appreciate the mystery oriented episodes enough to tolerate the drama ones.
Also, did I mention that there’s a lot of scenes of girls kissing.

A lot of girls kissing.

;

Peace. Peace you so hard.

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