I owe Stockade Boy big-time for giving me his old body. That said, I kinda wish he'd done a little sprucing up before he handed it over to me. (Flip That Corpse!) Right now I'm working my ass off trying to get rid of the smells. Yeah, smells, plural. Every time I scrub myself down in the shower I get rid of one layer of stank, only to discover yet another one lurking beneath it. I'm a metrushka doll of odor! First there was the smell of that high-powered pipe tobacco he'd been using (hey, it made his astral form leave his body and zoom to the other end of the galaxy one-thousand years in the future, so I'm pretty sure it's illegal) and under that it was a pemmican fart or something, and then wet buffalo, and what I'm pretty sure is coyote urine, with a hint of moonshine breath, and I still haven't penetrated to the core of his own natural b.o. It's turning into an all-day job! So I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn today's Iron Man blogging over to my dear friend Storm Boy!
...Wow. You should see the looks on your faces!
Take it away, Storm Boy! (Take it far, far away.)
SQUEE!!! I'm pumped! Don't worry, people. You're in good hands. Oh, and as you can see, I took Dr. Tectonic's suggestion about trimming my glorious mane of hair down to a mohawk. But then I made it, like, ten times better by dyeing it green! Yes, it is handsome, isn't it? Thank you for noticing.Let's see, let's see... where's that panel scan? Ah. Here it is, under this pile of protein bar wrappers. Don't you just adore protein bars? They're packed with vitamins, and yet it's just like you're eating chocolate candy! I usually have about twenty or thirty of them in a typical morning. (On what I'm certain is an unrelated note, my kidneys are threatening to shut down.) Where was I? OKAY!"Last week I gave a speech at the U.N.-- on "The Scientist's Responsibility Towards Man. Or at least, I launched a satellite that hypnotized the world's population into believing I had. Whatever. Same difference." *shrugs*
Tony's very toothy today. Like, pre-Queen Freddy Mercury toothy. No, wait, I got it. Tony's slipped in one of those mouth guards. You know. Like the boxers use? That's for the inevitable moment when he's swarmed by outraged Libertarians.
I mean, there's gotta be one Libertarian in that room. In the back, delivering coffee and sandwiches, or perhaps just sweeping up.
...There ya go. How do you like me now, nerds? (Um, do you like me? Because I really need for you to like me.)