Two of my greatest suspicions have been confirmed.
1. I couldn't possibly be the only person who wears undergarments with his own face on them.
2. Wolverine is smoother than a Ken doll!
Jeebus, dude, who talked you into getting your chest waxed? Because that person was not your friend.
Anyway, the weird shapelessness of Wolverine's crotchal region inspired me to pen this one-act play:
Horny Ninja Alien Princesses 38
Cast:
Wolverine: Himself
Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor: Dame Judi Dench
Setting: the sumptuously appointed stateroom of Princess Nil'ja'dri'mor, aboard her living space-yacht, the Aetherrunner. The Princess and Wolverine enter, passionately kissing, and make their way towards her bed, slamming into walls and knocking things off tables as they go.
Princess: Tomorrow we fight what may well be our final battle against the Sl'wev'ghr in the heart of the B'mil'hov'nor Galaxy! But tonight... we love!
Wolverine: Daddy needs some candy, baby! Let's do this thang!
Princess (uses her fantastic alien strength to rip Wolverine's belt off, and then starts to pull down his tights): Let's get you out of these dumb ol' clothes! Tee hee!
Wolverine (pulls back): Whoa! Whoa! Er, doesn't it seem kind of bright in here? It's kinda ruining the mood.
Princess: Oh, you want the lights out?
Wolverine (grins devilishly): The Wolverine only comes out at night, baby! Grrrowff!
Princess: Anything for you, my regal warrior.
(She claps her hands twice and the lights go out. The pair are illuminated only by the faint glow of swiftly passing stars.)
Wolverine: Phew! (nervously fans self with his hands) Omigod that was so scary!
Princess: What?
Wolverine: Just talking to myself. Because I'm crazy! I slice men into ribbons with my sweet-ass claws 'cause I'm mean-mad with the bloodlust! I'M WOLVERINE, BABY!!! AAAARRROOOOOO!!!
Princess: Take me, you hairy alien lunatic! Take me now! The Princess commands you! (She pulls down his tights, and finds a pair of Hanes boxers underneath with Wolverine's image on them.) Okay. Weird. Well, off they go, too!
Wolverine (grabs her arms): Not so fast there, slick. That porthole over there... don't you have some draperies or something we can cover that up with? I really need for it to be totally dark in here. I can't explain why but it's just very important to me.
Princess: No, no draperies. Quit stalling! Your Princess wants some of that strange Earth lovin'!
Wolverine: Hey, look! There's an armoire right next to it! If we each took one side, we could move it in front of the porthole and voila! Problem solved! Or maybe we could use that extra sheet over there as a sort of impromptu window treatment... (he begins to flop-sweat)
Princess: Relax, lover! Nobody can see us here! (she yanks down the boxers) Now, I'm going to show you pleasure like you've -- huh. Ha! HAW HAW HAW! You have got to be freaking kidding me! It's like a little Vienna sausage! Oh, lordy! Wait'll I tell my handmaidens about-- (Wolverine disembowels her)
(curtain falls)
7 comments:
Heh heh.
Imagining Judi Dench clad in randomly cross-hatched clothing, and sporting elbow-feathers, is a trip. Well-captured Claremontian space-opera setting there, too.
Oh, and Wolvie's wearing his boxers like Stimpy did in the "Happy Helmet" R&S episode--ironed flat and slapped on the outside.
Crotch aside, isn't Wolverine usually a little harier than that? Does he wax now, or what? Also, what effect would his healing factor have on bordy hair regrowth? Discuss.
Open letter to Wolverine:
Dude?...You're a dude. Dude's don't wax their chests, dude. Guys might, but not dudes. And everyone knows you're a tighty whitey man. I know some people think you go commando, but I know you've made some progress from your Weapon X days.
Thank you.
The funny thing is, I think he'd be a cool underwear model if the commercial showed him in ordinary briefs and a wife beater passed out on the couch in front of the TV at Xavier's covered in beer cans and cigar ash.
Also, I think Act II of your play should start with the X men and the Royal guard busting down the door and Wolverine being all "Um, yeah, I knew she was a clone robot all the time, bub! Her smell was off. Let's go X-Men, the real princess may need our help!"
I'm a little creeped out by the position of the knee on that picture on his boxers.
Chawunky: Yeah, but who ironed the boxers? 'Cause I don't see Wolverine as the domestic type. Left to his own devices, he'd probably nap atop growing piles of pizza boxes, beer cans, and his own feces.
Phillip: I'm sure he's smooth-chested for this ad only. 'Cause they don't want to turn off any female shoppers who might see it. And sure, there's less chance of that happening than "Infinite Crisis" having a satisfying resolution, but still...
Constantine: Awesome idea for Wolvie's "excuse!" You just know he's had to use that one before.
Anonymous: Oh, you think that's a knee, do you? Trompe-l'oeil genitalia: it's the poor man's Enzyte!
"Yeah, but who ironed the boxers? 'Cause I don't see Wolverine as the domestic type."
I see your point, but it seems to me that if someone's willing to shave and/or wax Wolverine, they're probably up for ironing his unmentionables.
Oh, and "Trompe-l'oeil genitalia"--heh heh.
Reading blogs makes me smarter! I had to look up "Trompe-l'oel" and "Enzyte," and now I will now be peppering my small talk with both!
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