Friday, April 18, 2008

Hey, Watch Where You Point That Thing

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"Awright, Pym... bend over!"

I gotta give some credit to Captain America, or U.S.A-hole or Ameridouche or whatever the hell he was called at that point: he understand that if you possess mad improv skillz, you can fake your way to sexful sophistication! Just act like what you're doing is so way-out freaky, it's the other guy's problem for not "getting it." ...Er, not that I've ever had to resort to this. I just heard it from Storm Boy. Yeah.

*flop-sweats*

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

WHO DO YOU TRUST?

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Yes indeedy! It's a Zagor "Secret Invasion" tie-in (I presume)! THRILL as the inhabitants of Earth battle to keep from being pushed off of their own planet by a hoard of shifty, racist, disease-carrying, agreement-breaking alien interlopers!

(By the way, "Kara Bela" is my favorite Italian restaurant; their manicotti is to die for.)

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Robe Playing

After weeks on the lam, it's nice to be back home in my swingin' bachelor pod. I just had to do a little cleaning. For example? I had to rip down all the police tape. Also, my closets had gotten all rummaged and shit, so I had to re-organize them, and make a list of everything the U.P. investigators had stolen taken into evidence. Finally, I had to move my stone slab of a bed off of the Science Police rookie it had tipped over on (about a week ago). And before you ask, he's fine. In fact, I'd say he's mighty fine. His body was brawny enough to avoid serious injury. Still, I'm not letting him leave until I doctor him back to health. I'm fattening him up with some of my special protein broths (fortified with omnibeast lard), and I've also forbidden him to shave, and I'm in the middle of designing some nice tattoos for him. Just because. (Shut up.)

But the best part of being home again is the freedom to pad about my pod in this super-cool kimono that Silvercat designed for me! Check out her drawing of me wearing it! Sweet!

Monday, April 14, 2008

It's All Fun and Games Until Gadfly Lad's Arms Get Chopped Off

Well, thank the Luck Lords that's over! The Blockade Boy Revenge Squad is suitably smashed, and I've acquired like, two hundred new boyfriends who don't mind it when I tell them how to dress. Oh, and most of them are green, thanks to Green Boy, but I'm told that will wear off. Eventually.

Of course, there was the not-so-little matter of Gadfly Lad. I'll get to him in a bit. But first, some bullet points:
  • Most of the Revenge Squad is now in jail, and rather quickly, too. It turns out Gadfly Lad had already transmitted the Squad's records to the U.P. before I got a chance to. So the Squad's headquarters were stormed by U.P. goons soldiers (and a fine, upstanding bunch they are, too!) about twenty minutes into the donnybrook.
  • Intern Alchemy got one of the longer sentences, for counterfeiting space-cheddah. But from the look on his face when they loaded his battered, moist body into the hover-ambulance, I think he's going to like prison just fine.
  • Polecat and Calamity King kept arguing over which one of them was the mastermind of the whole operation, so both their asses got handed life sentences.
  • After a thorough review of his activities in the Squad, Green Boy was arrested for "aggravated loitering", given a lengthy scrubbing, and sent to a halfway house for depressed losers.
  • Gossip Queen is in the prison hospital, getting his face reconstructed, to accommodate two regular robot eyes, instead of that souped-up model he used to spy on me. It's back to short-range psychic tracking for him! By the way, I've heard that he told the doctors that he wants to look like Coluan teen heartthrob, Dox Efron.
Now, about Gadfly Lad...

It turns out he's got a soft spot as well as a hard-on for Calorie Queen, because when I tossed him his old flying harness (hidden trickfully behind my cloak), he grabbed her arm, and hollered, "Come with me, if you want to live!" But just then, two of the less-savory members of the Blockade Mob sliced his arms clean-off, using laser axes. Gadfly Lad collapsed in an adorably tiny heap. Calorie Queen held up her own arm, with one of Gadfly Lad's severed arms still clinging to it, and then we both started screaming and punching the living daylights out of the Mob members. I took a moment to shoot Ox a look and to nod my head a certain way. Ox took my meaning, because he gathered up what was left of Gadfly Lad, and barreled his way through the riot, and outside, to safety.

At the hospital satellite, Gadfly Lad was given two options: they could either grow two new arms for him, which would take nine months and cost three whole wheels of space-cheddah, or, they could slap on some robot arms, which would take immediately and cost one-jillionth of the first option. Gadfly Lad asked if they could outfit the robot arms with lightning bolt powers. The doctors shrugged their shoulders and said, sure, why not?

The U.P. dropped all charges against me, but they insisted I complete my contract as a space-pirate. Since I don't have any artificial limbs (anymore), I'd have to be a first mate, or something even more degrading. And then -- bless his heart! -- Gadfly Lad raised a metal arm, and asked if somebody could replace me in my unfulfilled space-pirate duties! That's right: the scrappy li'l fella is gonna be a space-pirate captain! With his new robot arms, he's more than qualified! Gadfly Lad also wrangled a deal for Calorie Queen to serve as "first mate", on a work-release program. I couldn't help but notice the sparse black fuzz already sprouting on his cheeks. It seems my little man is getting older! Or maybe the frequent screwing with Calorie Queen has jump-started something. Either way, it's nice to see.

Gadfly Lad decided he doesn't want to be called that anymore, on account of it not befitting a space-pirate, and also that it would "cramp his romance" with the insect-phobic Calorie Queen. A dazzle-gem of an idea gleamed in my eyes. I told him that I had the perfect new identity for him. So, one new costume, some hair extensions, and a pair of spray-painted Nth-metal wings later, I give you...

THE NEW BLACK CONDOR!


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