The Royal Flush Gang Daily Regimen... Of EVIL!
10:00 AM: Wake up and have your first cigarette. While smoking, shave face and/or legs. Splash on some Aqua Velva and/or Jean Nate.
10:10 AM: Breakfast! 32-ounce T-bone steak, six poached eggs, one whole coffee cake, two baked potatoes with all the trimmings, one of those big wooden salad bowls (filled with meringue), and three fingers of bourbon.
10:45 AM: Nap time.
11:00 AM: Have a cigarette. Use "stellaration" machine to irradiate some more playing cards and see if it can maybe beam last night's Dodgers game into the television set.
12:00 PM: Lunch. (Finally!) One entire roasted chicken, swordfish steak, two loaves of sourdough bread drenched with melted butter, Boston cream pie, a punch bowl (full of pork gravy), two gallons of clam chowder, a fudgey bunt cake filled with Miracle Whip, and a vodka tonic.
12:50 PM: Smoke break.
1:00 PM: Throw Royal Flush costume into the washing machine. Discover washing machine is broken, then remove costume and in lieu of cleaning it, spritz it with Hi Karate. Attempt to remove wrinkles by flattening the costume beneath a pile of Playboy and/or Glamour magazines.
1:05 PM: And now for some "me time!" In floor length mirror, admire self. Primp bouffant hair-do or false beard. After about half a minute of this, realize you're feeling a bit faint from standing and do the rest of your primping while reclining in bed.
1:45 PM: Another cigarette. No, make that two.
2:00 PM: Briefly wonder about what's causing the numbness in your left arm. Then forget all about it.
2:01 PM: Notice amateur film footage of Superman on TV. Make cutting remark to teammates about the Man of Steel's barrel chest and burgeoning double-chin. And then it's fondue all around!
2:15 PM: Strategy meeting. (You may smoke.)
2:42 PM: Awaken to the stench of melting polyester and discover that everybody at the table has dozed off and someone's cigarette has started a fire in the shag carpeting.
4:00 PM (or whenever the firemen say it's okay to re-enter your headquarters): Exercise! Three jumping-jacks, four push-ups, then jog in place for one minute. Reward yourself with a cigarette.
4:05 PM: Nap time.
5:00 PM: Dinner. Rack of lamb (deep-fried), two ham hocks, garlic mashed potatoes served in a reclaimed oil drum, a small salad (kidding!), cherry pie, strawberry milkshake garnished with a candy cane, raw cookie dough, and a boilermaker. Do your best to ignore the stabbing pains in your chest.
5:55 PM: Smoke break!
6:05 PM: Conference call with Felix Faust. Suspect he's trying to work some kind of hex on you and abruptly hang up the phone. When he tries to call you back just let it ring.
6:20 PM: Play that Monopoly-themed drinking game Amos came up with. Accuse Jack of hiding advantageous "Community Chest" cards in his wig. Have a cigarette. Or three.
8:37 PM: Pass out.
8 comments:
H to the A to the H to the A!
I imagine all of it occuring to the strains of Perry Como, Tony Bennett, Frank Sinatra, et. al.
Looking at the Royal Flush Gang's digs, I'm reminded of how often villainous lairs were theme-decorated to a fault back in the Silver Age. One doesn't really see that level of follow-through in hideouts these days.
In all fairness, it's pretty difficult to look good in skin-tight spandex.
If you think about it, you've got to throw some respect in Ace's direction--grudgingly perhaps, but respect nonetheless. I mean, you'd think that at least _one_ of the Royal Flush Gang members would have said something by now. That they haven't must mean that he's a bad mofo. The last guy who told him he looked fat in that outfit was probably forcefed his own genitalia or something.
Yeah, I'm kinda getting a "Joe Pesci in Goodfellas sort of vibe from Ace there...
Are you reading JLA Classified, Jeremy?
Lots of RFG goodness...
Chawunky: Haw! Yup, I'm sure the Royal Flush Gang has quite the selection of swingin' platters... some of them quadrophonic!
Justin: I suppose he must have had somethin' going' on. Especially considering that the comic says he bossed around these self-same people when they were kids. And his nickname back then? Pudge.
Scipio: I had no idea! I'll have to pick up a copy! And then take it over to the counter and pay for it. And then take it out to my car. And then... well, you get the idea.
Jeez, BB, slow down! You need to work a few cigarette breaks into that trip...
And, yeah, JLDetroit + RFG = Looserpalooza!
My girlfriend just walked in and asked what I was reading.
"Blockade Boy," sez I.
"You and that Blockade Boy."
You're disturbing my girlfriend's calm.
Thanks!
I just spit up a little bit of coffee onto my keyboard from laughing.
Thanks a lot, man.
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