Monday, July 07, 2008

Choose My Own Adventure

(If you haven't read last Friday's post, you might wanna go ahead and do that. I'm just sayin'.)


So, Eyeful Ethel gave me a more formal firing, later that day.

She thanked me for my "months of service" and gave me a hefty wedge of severance-cheddah. On a more personal level, she pointed out that I would never be comfortable with having a boss. Which is true. She said I should look into getting a job where I can "run the show." That sounds good to me.

But what should I do? My band, Jagged Edge Explosion Balloon, has had some luck playing at small venues, like hover-biker bars and space-mitzvahs. Or I could train as an "ultimate brawler" and battle my way up into the Beat the Living Crap Out of You League. But that would take forever. I want glorious success RIGHT GODDAMN NOW, goddamn it! Is that so much to ask? Maybe I could become a bounty hunter? That'd be easy. And fun! You get to slap folks around... with impunity! Or with whatever else that happens to be lying around.

I invited my fellow firees back to my pod this morning, for a strategy session. And also because I feel kinda responsible for getting them into this mess. Have I mentioned that Bad Apple Boy, that pseudo-gangsta lunk-head, quit? As "a gesture of solidarity (yo)"? So he's here, too. The only ones who stayed with Ethel were Compass Kid (who I don't really know), Frigid Queen (because she's trying to avoid her sort-of-boyfriend, Phantom Lad), and Rainbow Girl (because she actually has an ounce of freaking sense.) I also secretly reasoned that by holding the strategy session at my place, maybe all these other super-heroes could help keep Cootie in check. Yeah, it ain't workin'. I've had to save Storm Boy from getting pummeled to death by mind-controlled hobos, like, four times already!

And Posture Queen--! Don't get me started. Okay, so I'll start. She's driving me bonkers. She wears wigs all the time, and never travels without at least two or three spares. She talks like a crazy person, going in and out of this effed-up cutesy "baby voice" and some kind of sultry whisper which she wrongly assumes is sexy. And she's always posing and telling everybody else how they should be posing, and I'll decide how everybody should pose, thank you very much. And she apparently thinks she's hilarious, but she's not, trust me. (But Storm Boy does think she's hilarious, and he and she are new BFF's, apparently. GUH.) And she has to infuse every mundane moment with High Drama. For example? She volunteered to make a run to the Infernal House of Pancakes to grab breakfast sandwiches for everybody. Only she screwed up the order. So we heard the front door slide open, and we bustled into the sunken living room to find Posture Queen standing in the foyer, looking down on everybody with her "serious face" (which makes her look like a frightened robot) and she intoned, "I see four beautiful super-heroes in front of me. But I only hold three sandwiches in my hand."

We were all kind of taken aback for a few seconds. But then I broke the silence by hollering, "WHO THE FUCK TALKS LIKE THAT?!"

It's going to be a long day.

But while I try to pull my shit together, why don't you guys partake of this nice costume I designed for fellow blogger (and evil genius) Captain Koma? It uses his signature motifs: the blue/black color scheme, and the hood. I also glommed onto a snake theme, based on the time he was turned into a half-snake creature (and because snakes are evil, which was scientifically proven by Lithuanian researchers in the year 2466). So the padding is meant to suggest a snake's belly, and I crafted Ouroboros symbols for the cloak clasps and for the belt. The clasps are joined by a yoke, based on Celtic jewelry. Now Captain Koma can conquer the universe in style!

(Gee, I hope that doesn't make me an "accessory." Er, oops.)



Gus Casals said...

No, BB, not a bounty hunter, that is so nineties!

You know that your thing is the in the fashion consultancy business.

Speaking of which, I like Cap Koma's do, although the hood/mask combination is a little too Hal Jordan/Spectre for my tastes.

Bill S. said...

Do you qualify for space-unemployment?

That entire parade episode sounds remarkably suspicious, as if you were all being controlled by some outside agent. Is it possible that Cootie has graduated to controlling the minds of non-hobos?

Skeleton Munroe said...

Okay, I'll say it: I'm jealous. Why'd I have to blog as myself, anyhow? I've got a perfectly good mad scientist alter-ego going to waste.

I think that you guys should represent Lallor in the space-olympics. Think about it: you'll get acclaim and such just for participating, plus most of the events involve throwing dinosaurs with your mind and so forth. Who better for the task than a bunch of super-heroes? If they're taking place any time soon, that is. If not... you could put on a show, maybe?

Dean said...

But they might have trouble passing the space-drug test if they enter the space-Olympics- I mean, can anyone guarantee that Storm Boy, Phantom Lad and Posture Queen are all drug-free?
I think that the bounty-hunter idea might be a goer, BB- just avoid hyper-vascular nineties-style posing, and keep your feet well-defined at all times, and you'll be set!

LurkerWithout said...

I'd say you have several options.

1. The No Really This Is the Ultimate Final Rock and Brawl Ultimate Fighting Battle of the Ultimate Bands League. Big Cash Prizes! Fame! Groupies! Free Bandages!

2. Freelancer Time Librarian Enforcement Division. Hunting down those who borrow and don't return from the Library At the End of Time. Wacky hijinks across time and space! Also dental...

3. The Society of Amoral Archeologists. Find old crap and sell it to collectors. Sure, it means making an enemy of the Harrison Ford Re-enactment Society, but those guys are jerks anyway...

4. Find some jerk who you hate because they suck and you hate them and form a Revenge Squad. Perhaps you've noticed that Sun Boy is a giant pompous douche?

5. And of course "amateur" porn. Everyone loves porn!

Dave said...

My suggestions, FWIW:

As LurkerWithout said, Space Porn. The possibilities are endless, which is both a good and a bad thing.

Failing that, how about grabbing a time sphere and doing some retroactive make-overs? (That's where you go back in time and help some poor schlub with a terrible costume find a new look -- and success in the here and now!)

Hell, you could even recruit fabulous companions from the various times and places you visit, and prevent cosmic "fashion don'ts".

Jeremy Rizza said...

Gustavo: Wait, do you mean "1990's" or "2990's"? 'Cause I don't want to be all "2990's". That would be lame. (The "1990's" is considered a Classical Period in my era.)

Bill S.: Naw, the whole parade incident is pretty much how I'd behave all the time if not for "laws" and "social niceties." And I guess I could qualify for space-unemployment but it's not nearly bad-ass enough for my aesthetic sense.

Jonathan: I could tear some shit up at the Space-Olympics. But sadly, the folks who administer the drug tests never believe that my spectacular levels of testosterone are perfectly natural. (Even for an Amadan, I'm ultra-manly! My cross to bear, I suppose.)

Lurker: Awesome suggestions! Wow! (Although if I understand correctly, you're already filming me for amateur porn. (Yeah. I know. Surely you noticed the winking I've been doing in the direction of where I presume your cameras to be? And all the pointing and fist-pumps? And the silent mouthing of "Call me"?)

Dave: One thing I'm learning with this post: Everybody Loves Porn!

Skeleton Munroe said...

Okay, yeah. I change my vote to porn.

But only because I have a strange attraction to Pasture Queen.