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!
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.)
9 comments:
Wait a minute..."That can be our only defense if you ignore the facts"? "IF YOU IGNORE THE FACTS"? Did he just flat-out admit that all the evidence is against him?
"Well, if you throw out all the evidence against me, then it should be perfectly clear that I;m innocent on all charges."
And it's the defense of every man, which I assume is also pretty much par for the course.
Remember that one, kids, next time you're stopped for speeding. It's better than a PBA card!
I was gonna say something about the state of hygiene technology in the world of the future, but I realized that a) I don't have all the facts and b) who's to say that this 19th-century odorama isn't the equal of any possible hypersoap or piddly sonic shower that could be brought against it and c) if there's anything that would cause personal maintenance nanites to unionize, this is probably it...
Storm Boy, that green mohawk is, indeed, ten times better if not more! The new look suits you, man.
You, uh, may want to keep an eye on those protein bars, though. They're probably a bit more chocolate candy than you think, vitamins notwithstanding.
Erich, Jon and Anonymous: It's brilliant in its simplicity, isn't it? I'm planning on using that the next time Blockade Boy wakes up while I'm in the middle of braiding his beard without him asking me to. How do I stand the smell? I've trained myself to go for hours without breathing, like one of those Indian yogis. It's worth it!
Chawunky: Y'know, we used to have Hypersoap, but then Dan Didio ret-conned it out of existence.
Dr. Tectonic: *BLUSH!* I'll try to cut back, but then I don't know what I'm going to put in my mouth all day. (Until we reach port, that is.)
To get the Hypersoap back, maybe Superboy-Prime can punch Mister Mind into Hypertime just before he can eat the moment when Hypersoap was invented!
I think that's how it all works.
Storm Boy: Holy cats, man, you got hot! No more gin blossoms! Give me a call if you're ever in my port...
*ahem*
I'm surprised Tony's neck hasn't snapped from supporting the weight of all that dialogue.
Anonymous: It's worth a try! That was a great brand of soap. It not only got you clean, but all of your interdimensional counterparts as well!
Bill S.: "...You got hot!" I know, right? Finally, my body is catching up to how I've always pictured it. (Now I just need to find a big pink power sword with a ginormous ear on the hilt.)
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