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Where mayhem is the man-fish!

Posts Tagged ‘Pikapunk’

Time-Mind Sync-Warp #52

Posted by meekrat on September 22, 2010


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MMM 2010: Epilog

Posted by meekrat on August 4, 2010

[In Detroit, Logan Keanu Solo and his group of Paci Custodis appear in their kitchen. Clarence Claybourne and Graves sit down and begin eating bowls of Frosted Flakes, while Shrugs takes his Mister Lucky scarecrow outside. Logan Keanu Solo stretches and goes to watch television, but Player One looks around for a few moments, and then runs up to his room. There is no one there, and he sits down on his bed, takes off his goggles, and begins to cry. Jimmy Swift comes to his door and knocks.]
Jimmy Swift: Hey. You all right?
Player One: Oh god. You’re hear to make fun of me or something, aren’t you?
[Jimmy Swift takes a chair, the only one not covered with video game paraphernalia, and sits on it.]
Jimmy Swift: Not this time. I mean, I spent a lot of time with Cowboy Santa and Elfie after my events were over, and then they just got ripped away from me. He was like a father to me in the short time I knew him. I’ll get over it, though. I have to. You, though, you lost your three closest friends, am I right?
Player One: Yeah. I didn’t even think to ask Player Three and Four where they are, and I know where Player Two is, but there’s no way I can get to Cleveland. I tried once, but I got as far as the bus depot before I had to turn back.
Jimmy Swift: The important thing is that you know they’re still there, and now all of you can look for each other together. Or something. You can find them, is what I’m saying.
Player One: You’re right. I’m going to actually make a plan and all that! Look out, world! Here I come!
Jimmy Swift: That’s the spirit! Now buck up and start planning!
Player One: Why don’t you always act like this?
Jimmy Swift: I don’t like it. And if you ever tell anyone about me doing this, I swear to God I’ll kill you myself.
Player One: Understood.

[In the seventies, the super-spy group known as CAST are having a mission briefing. Suddenly, Agent Man-In-Charge feels a cold shiver run down his spine.]
Agent Pheromone: What’s wrong, boss-man?
Agent Man-In-Charge: I feel as if someone just tore a version of me from the past, forced it to participate in inane competitions, and then finally used it to power a machine designed to channel the power from extra-dimensional entities into a fat little bear.
Agent Seven-In-One: Spooky. I just had the same feeling. What about you, Agent Villain?
[Agent Villain stands in the corner, cleaning his fingernails with his knife.]
Agent Villain: Hmm?
Agent Seven-In-One: Did you feel all those things?
[Agent Villain sheathes his knife and shrugs.]
Agent Villain: No. I didn’t feel a thing.

[Mike P, Owen Reilly, Ethan Crane, Pikapunk, Antwon, and Cinco de Mayo arrive on the god-head island. A dirty unshaven figure runs out of the woods, his clothes torn, carrying a sharpened stick.]
Mike P: JJ?
JJ: Oh thank god! Where have you guys been? There weren’t any heads, thank God, but still, you guys were gone for so long! Where were you?
Jerald: We’re not at liberty to discuss that with you. Who are you, anyway?
JJ: Who are you?
[Jerald and JJ scowl at each other. JJ stops as his eyes widen.]
JJ: Oh! Like an hour ago, a bunch of buildings just popped out of nowhere.
Mike P: That was supposed to happen, sort of.
JJ: Okay. So it’s not crazy island stuff?
Mike P: Not really. Are they nice?
JJ: I guess. Completely empty, but nice.
Ethan Crane: No televisions?
JJ: Not one. No furniture at all.
Mike P: Looks like we’ll be going shopping soon, then.
JJ: I’ll be footing the bill for that?
Mike P: You bet.

[Mister Lucky and the Archaic English Society arrive in front of the Spire.]
Mister Lucky: Good to be back home, I guess. What an adventure that was, wasn’t it?
Amorphous Blob: We died.
Mister Lucky: Sure did. Important thing is that we’re all back now. Me, you, Hamilton, Nick, Matt, and weird red creature.
Professor Nick: What was that last one?
Mister Lucky: Weird red creature.
Baco: Oh yes! I’ve finally found where I belong, among English majors! What a happy day indeed!
Mister Lucky: Were you… supposed to come back with us?
Baco: Oh, no. I think I was supposed to go with Mike P and his crew, but I hitched a ride with you lot instead.
Mister Lucky: You could do that?
Professor Nick: I wish I had known! I would have gone with that young lady with the napkins covering her naughty bits.
Mister Lucky: [sighing] You’re welcome to stay for a bit, I guess.
Baco: I have plenty of places I could go, and was planning on staying regardless of your permission. Now then, where’s your library? There’s a book I’ve been meaning to read…

[The Animajor and the Righteous Smidgen appear in the middle of rural America, along with Perverto.]
The Animajor: Why were we all sent here?
Righteous Smidgen: I think it’s because none of us were pulled from anywhere. We just showed up.
Perverto: Whatevs! Smell you later!
[Perverto leaves, plodding towards the sunrise. A farmer grazing his cattle in the surrounding fields sees Perverto, screams out something about an alien invasion, pushes over one of his cows, slices open its belly, and tries his best to hide inside.]
The Animajor: [turning to the Righteous Smidgen] So what will you do?
Righteous Smidgen: I think I’ll go visit the Paragon People. Perhaps they’ll let me stay with them for a bit, perhaps be on their team. What will you do?
The Animajor: I don’t want to be considered a villain. I’d like to be a hero, so I think I’ll work on that. At the very least, perhaps work my way up to anti-hero status. If you know where the Paragon People are located, I could possibly drop you off…
Righteous Smidgen: Captain Depresso said they were currently based in a town in Indiana. Woburn, I think he said.
The Animajor: All right. Off to Woburn, Indiana, then.
[The Animajor picks up the Righteous Smidgen, holds the diminutive hero in his hand, and away they go.]

[Back in Detroit, Shoshy Raphael enters city hall. The secretary looks up at him.]
Secretary: One moment please.
[The secretary looks down at the desk and concentrates on her work for only a few seconds before she realizes to whom she was speaking. She looks back up at Shoshy Raphael, smiling nervously.]
Secretary: Mister Raphael! We didn’t expect to see you back!
Shoshy Raphael: Obviously not. Now then, what’s occurred while I’ve been away?
Secretary: Crime went way down, which was good. So did super heroic activity, which should make you happy because I know you don’t appreciate the superheroes. The hospital opened their new wing, a new library opened, an older library burned down, and you were replaced.
Shoshy Raphael: Very good. I’ll be in my office if you need me.
[Shoshy Raphael takes three steps, stops, blinks, then turns suddenly to his secretary.]
Shoshy Raphael: I’ve been replaced?! You can’t replace me! I’m the mayor!
Secretary: “Were” the mayor. Sorry, Mister Raphael. Your successor, a Mister Hain —
Shoshy Raphael: [stroking his chin] Hain. Hain? The name doesn’t–wait, you mean the costume shop mogul? That “Mister Hain”?
Secretary: The costume shop mogul and new mayor of Detroit, Mister Raphael. Anyway, Mister Hain said there’s a room for you in his mansion should you need it.
Shoshy Raphael: Let me guess. His mansion is actually MY mansion.
Secretary: “Was” your mansion. Again, sorry, Mister Raphael. Oh, I almost forgot! Mister Hain also insisted that I hand this message to you personally.
Shoshy Raphael: [sighing] Well, I might as well take a look at it.
[The secretary hands over an envelope, sealed with the mayor’s wax stamp.]
Shoshy Raphael: [mumbling] Hain already has a mansion. No reason he needs two of them.
[Shoshy Raphael heads outside, opens the letter, and reads it over once, twice, and a third time.]
Shoshy Raphael: Hm. What an interesting offer, I must say. Almost makes being ousted from office worth it.
[With a grin, Shoshy Raphael folds the letter and places it into his pocket. Walking forward, Shoshy Raphael melts into the bustling crowds roaming the streets of downtown Detroit as the early morning sun rises into the daytime sky.]

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MMM2010: Round Four Commences

Posted by meekrat on July 12, 2010

[Once again, the crowd is gathered. The champions of Deity Guy and Lamp Prime are mildly intermingled, but there is a clear divide between them and the champions of the Stupid. The skies open up and the three Embodiments descend from the heavens. Lamp Prime drops like a rock, crashing through the stage. Moments later, he levitates out of it. He is dusty, dim, and tarnished. Deity Guy drunkenly weaves back and forth through the air, crashing into the back of the stage. He has a full beard now, scraggly and unkempt, and his single eye is bloodshot. As soon as he pulls himself from the wreckage, he manifests a bottle of hard liquor and begins drinking it. The Stupid, meanwhile, descends gracefully, taking pot-shots at the champions of Deity Guy and Lamp Prime and laughing all the while. He succeeds in maiming a few of them, but for the most part remains harmless. The three Embodiments rest upon the stage and Deity Guy turns to the crowd.]
Deity Guy: Yeah, well, you know the drill. Don’t think anyone else is dead. Only a few rounds left. Like eight?
The Stupid: Two rounds and the final, which has been planned for. Oh yes, plans have been made!
[The Stupid begins laughing maniacally. Deity Guy and Lamp Prime pay this no mind, but several champions of Good and Neutrality look at him nervously.]
Deity Guy: Anyway, there’s a bunch of stuff in your programs now. You know.
Lamp Prime: I have to ask that my remaining champions go get fitted for safety armor. It’s made from excessive padding, so you don’t get hurt during the final events — which I think may include things like “macramé” and “stamp collecting”.
The Stupid: My champions must get fitted for extra-kill armor, as your final events will involve killing the other champions!
Deity Guy: That’s not cool, both of you. Anyway, my guys, report for some sort of armor, too. And drinks. In fact, forget the armor.
Lamp Prime: Please don’t mess with my events, The Stupid.
The Stupid: I’ll do what I damn well please!
Deity Guy: Yeah, besides, it’s not like you have room to talk, Lampy, having your Thrifty Scouts mess up my event.
Lamp Prime: I didn’t mean to —
Deity Guy: I don’t care what you meant to do. Poor Land Captain might have won if your stupid heroes didn’t show up. Totally unfair.
The Stupid: You tell him!
Deity Guy: You shut up, too! You’re nearly as bad as he is! In fact, from this point forward, none of my champions are allowed to even talk with any of the other champions!
The Stupid: Fine! Mine too!
Lamp Prime: That’s a good idea. That way, none of them can get hurt.
The Stupid: Blah blah blah. You know why my guys aren’t going to talk to yours? Because I’m declaring war upon the both of you!
[Deity Guy’s bloodshot eye grows wide, and Lamp Prime’s bulb becomes bright.]
Lamp Prime: What?
Deity Guy: You know how serious that is, right?
The Stupid: Of course I know, and I know that my next events will be the first steps towards total war! Prepare yourselves!
[The Stupid vanishes in a puff of smoke.]
Lamp Prime: I have to go and keep my champions safe. Will you be my ally in this?
Deity Guy: No. I’m neutrality, after all, but if either of you come near me or my champions, it’s on!
[Deity Guy disappears in a burst of color. Faintly, he is heard exclaiming “YES!”]
Lamp Prime: I guess I should go get ready, too.
[There is a burst of light, but Lamp Prime is still sitting on the stage.]
Lamp Prime: This isn’t where I want to be. Would one of you — ?
[Owen Reilly hops onto the stage and carries Lamp Prime off with his Purple Lamp power. In the audience, the champions begin to talk and gossip.]
Player One: So the armor thing. Are we actually getting armor?
Elvin Clovar: What do you care? You lost your first —
[Before Elvin Clovar can finish, Player One punches him in the face with his Power Gloved hand. Elvin Clovar is knocked back in surprise by the blow, and raises his hand to his nose, discovering blood.]
Player One: I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.
Elvin Clovar: I thought Canadians were supposed to be polite!
Player One: You’ll see how polite I am when I start punching you some more!
[Elvin Clovar backs away towards the champions of the Stupid.]
Red Scare: You’ve made a powerful mistake this day, lad!
Player One: Your face made a terrible mistake.
Player Two: Oh! Burn!
[Professor Nick looks around and kicks the Forgiver in the ankle.]
Professor Nick: There.
The Forgiver: Did you just kick me?
Professor Nick: I did! First blood!
The Forgiver: Apologize.
[Professor Nick kicks him again.]
Professor Nick: Never!
The Forgiver: Well then, I guess I’ll have to beat an apology out of you.
Professor Nick: Oh dear.
[Professor Nick runs, with the Forgiver giving chase. However, the superhero is tripped by Squibbons Johnson.]
Squibbons Johnson: How’d that get there? Hur.
[Squibbons Johnson is hit by an empty beer bottle, followed by several more, thrown by T-Bone and Danger Force.]
T-Bone: Take that, Squiddly Diddly.
[In response, Steve the Chach walks up to Agent Villain and starts posturing.]
Steve the Chach: You want some of this, old man? You want some? Huh? HUH?
[Agent Villain looks him over, fingers the hilt of his knife thoughtfully, lets out a single laugh, and points at the wall. Steve the Chach turns his head to look at the wall as Agent Villain’s knee immediately and almost imperceptibly burrows into Steve the Chach’s groin, causing him to double-over in the agony that only men could experience from such a blow. Agent Villain then turns around and walks away.]
Steve the Chach: [clutching his testicles] Yeah, that’s what I thought.
[A clump of dirt hits Steve in the back of the head. He turns and sees Jonathan Hortenz standing there, whistling softly.]
Steve the Chach: Dude! Uncool!
Jonathan Hortenz: It wasn’t me. It was him.
[Jonathan Hortenz points to Sitting Tricky Pillow Man. These events continue happening until everyone is fighting everyone else, resulting in much blood and bruises. Pikapunk and Brachiosaur quietly slip away.]
Pikapunk: I’ve never seen everyone so riled up.
Brachiosaur: Brachi brach brachi!
Pikapunk: He should be okay.
[Their flight is halted by Monkeysaurus Rex, who snuck out back to enjoy a cigarette before the Embodiments even finished arriving.]
Brachiosaur: BRACHI!
[Brachiosaur rears up, almost crushing Pikapunk in the process.]
Pikapunk: Could you move, please? You’re upsetting him.
Monkeysaurus Rex: This is flavor country, and flavor country? It’s a free country. I wrote a song about it. You want to hear it?
Pikapunk: No.
[Monkeysaurus Rex and Pikapunk narrow their eyes at each other, while Brachiosaur trembles in fear against a wall. As the fighting continues, Thomas Iavi, Doctor Aquarius, and Plasticine Cube take the stage.]
Thomas Iavi: Microphone! I need a microphone!
[Perverto crashes through the floor of the stage, holding a microphone and camera.]
Perverto: At your service!
Iavi: Er. Thanks.
[Iavi taps the microphone a few times, and then shouts into it.]
[The battling champions all turn to the stage.]
Iavi: Listen everyone, I know the Embodiments are being… weird right now, but that’s no reason to go at each other’s throats like this. I mean, even you, Charleston? You should know better than this!
[Charleston Charge looks up at Iavi, a frown upon his face, and sets down the Gemini Twin Trooper he had picked up to throw at the other two. He pats him on the head and the Gemini Twin Trooper punches him in the stomach. Doctor Aquarius takes the microphone.]
Doctor Aquarius: I know we all hate each other, or at least most of us hate the others. I, for one, hate all of you but my former ZODIAC companions.
El Presidente: Even me?
Doctor Aquarius: Especially you. However, we shouldn’t resort to violence just because some cosmic beings want us to. If it’s our event, which only applies to about a dozen of us at this point, that’s all well and good. But we shouldn’t go to war over something so silly. At least, not yet. Let’s wait a little while.
[Iavi looks at Doctor Aquarius, a concerned look upon his face. Plasticine Cube somehow takes the microphone.]
Plasticine Cube: Violence is never the answer!
[This has the exact opposite effect, as the champions all begin fighting each other once again. Thrifty Scout Fenris, in her civilian identity of Rei Himano, repeatedly hits Player Three with her fists. Logan Keanu Solo, possessed by his insane alter-ego Brutal McKillmore, runs around hitting people with a hammer and shouting nonsense. Metallic Spheroid attempts to set fire to things.]
Plasticine Cube: Well, that didn’t work.
Doctor Aquarius: What can we do? As much as I like this chaos, there’s a time and place for it, and that’s not here or now — especially with the Embodiments in such a tizzy.
Iavi: Yeah. I think it’s time to pull out the big guns.
Doctor Aquarius: You can’t mean — ?
Iavi: I do.
[Iavi wades through the carnage, narrowly dodging a concrete pillow tossed by Sitting Tricky Pillow Man and somehow avoiding a laser-blast from Shizamablam!’s space-gat. He finds his way to Cinco de Mayo, who have adopted a defensive formation, and removes one of their members. He then makes his way to another team, borrowing one of its members. The trio of Iavi and the two borrowed team members quickly run back to the stage, managing not to get hit by a wide variety of attacks. The two team members, Toddo and Kareem, take the stage. Doctor Aquarius lowers the microphone for the children.]
Kareem: Well, golly, I don’t think this is good at all!
Toddo: It’s not!
[All the champions stop fighting once again and turn towards the stage.]
Kareem: You should never try to hurt other people.
Toddo: Unless if you’re defending yourself, but even then, you should try to find a more peaceful way to solve things first!
Kareem: Even if we don’t like each other all that much, we have to find ways to get along. If you took the time to get know people better, then golly, you might find out that they’re not all that bad!
Toddo: So I guess what we’re saying is that we shouldn’t be doing all this fighting amongst ourselves. We should just stay calm, finish the tournament, and then everyone can go home.
Kareem: Then we can do whatever we want.
Toddo: So please stop fighting everyone.
Kareem: Gosh, please?
[The champions, shamed by the children, mumble half-hearted apologies to each other and slowly step away from each other. The various medics begin treating the wounded, and those who are well simply walk away. Iavi steps onto the stage and approaches the children, kneeling down to make eye contact.]
Iavi: Thanks, kids.
Kareem: It was no problem, Mister Iavi.
Toddo: I’m just glad we could help.
Iavi: So am I, but now I hope the Embodiments can get along for the rest of the tournament.
[In the Hippodrome, Lamp Prime sits in the middle in the same state he was in before. He has a chalkboard with a list of safe events. The Stupid, meanwhile, has devised a list of targets on the other two teams to capture, disable, or kill. Deity Guy is drinking and muttering a wide variety of curses upon the other two Embodiments.]
Deity Guy: Stupid fourth round… hope it’s over soon.

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MMM Event #73: Resolution

Posted by meekrat on July 1, 2010

[Mister Frink and Shrugs are digging around a supplies closet, looking for supplies. So far, Mister Frink has a box filled with gears and other machinery-type things. Shrugs, meanwhile, has a broomstick and a bag of packing peanuts.]
Mister Frink: What do you have there?
[Shrugs holds up his supplies]
Mister Frink: I say, aren’t you prohibited from using packing peanuts?
[Shrugs makes a series of gestures which seem to explain that he has no idea when packing peanuts were invented, and therefore, they could have been around during the Civil War era. Mister Frink ponders this a moment, but decides not to explain the history of styrofoam.]
Mister Frink: I think we’ve exhausted this place. Where to next?
[Shrugs pulls out his chalkboard and writes, “COSTUMES” upon it.]
Mister Frink: This place has a costume department?
Shrugs: Nods.
Mister Frink: Let’s away, then.
[The pair walk down the hall to double-doors that says “COSTUMES” on it. Mournful singing emanates from within. Mister Frink opens the door and sees Vinny Fitzpatrick sitting on the floor, with a brown tweed suit-coat and bowler cap on top of his normal pilot’s clothing. He is holding a bottle of scotch and the singing is warbly, off-key, and incoherent.]
Mister Frink: Good god, man!
Vinny Fitzpatrick: Mister Lucky’s dead, Mister Frink, and I dinna do anything to stop it from happening.
Mister Frink: There was nothing you could do, lad. Now give me those!
[Mister Frink takes the suit-coat and bowler hat, and the bottle of scotch, only to find that the bottle is unopened and, most likely, a prop.]
Mister Frink: Now go find Douglas and Jenkins. Though Lucky is dead, the work of the Basset Hound Brigade must go on!
Vinny Fitzpatrick: What work would that be?
Mister Frink: I said go!
[Mister Frink picks up Vinny Fitzpatrick and tosses him out of the room.]
Mister Frink: Hated to do that to the lad, but needs must. Now then… hold a moment, what do you have there?
[Shrugs has found a box labeled “Mister Lucky” and places it on a nearby table. He takes out a knife and cuts the tape sealing the box and pulls out a gray suit.]
Mister Frink: Oh dear. I believe that’s from “Rock Opera”. I’d heard rumors that the Stupid had it performed for one of his events, but I hoped that not even he would do something so evil.
[Shrugs points from the box to his packing peanuts and broomstick.]
Mister Frink: I suppose you could use it, but it wouldn’t be very accurate.
Shrugs: Shrugs.
[Shrugs takes the box, grabs a few sacks from a pile, and exits the room. Mister Frink takes the jacket and hat Vinny Fitzpatrick so recently vacated and moves to the table, and begins tinkering. An hour passes.]
Lamp Prime: Okay, that’s enough time.
[Mister Frink and Shrugs appear in a flash of light, while Mortimer never left the field. Mister Frink has a frightening automaton dressed in Mister Lucky’s clothes. Shrugs has made a scarecrow.]
Lamp Prime: Let’s see what you have. Shrugs?
[Shrugs holds up the scarecrow. The sacks have been filled with packing peanuts and stuck onto the broomstick. The clothes are awkwardly fitted over the sack, with the arms hanging loose at the sides. The head, including fake handlebar mustache, is rolled-up newspaper shoved into a pink balloon. Lamp Prime’s light dims slowly, then regains the brightness it had before the dimming.]
Lamp Prime: That looks nothing like Mister Lucky. He never had a mustache. Never ever.
Shrugs: Shrugs. Points.
[Shrugs points to the box.]
Lamp Prime: Is… is that from “Rock Opera”? Why are the “Rock Opera” supplies in my Hippodrome?
Shrugs: Shrugs.
Lamp Prime: Well, unless Frink did an especially poor job, I think you lose. Frink?
Mister Frink: That would be Mister Frink, thank you.
Lamp Prime: Don’t. Just don’t. Otherwise I’ll call you Hor —
Mister Frink: Yes, then! Well, I built a rudimentary automaton. As you can see, I’ve yet to cover it with any sort of synthetic flesh or flesh substitute, so you can see the gears and whatnot.
Lamp Prime: At least it’s dressed properly. What does it do?
Mister Frink: Allow me to show you!
[Mister Frink presses a button on the automaton’s back. It begins to move jerkily and speak, though the voice it speaks in is less like Mister Lucky’s and more like Mister Frink emulating Mister Lucky.]
Mister Luckyatron: Hello there, I’m Mister Lucky, and today seems to be your lucky day! But wait, there’s more!
Lamp Prime: I see. It’s terrifying, but more accurate than the scarecrow. What if it turns evil?
Mister Frink: It’s impossible for the robot to turn evil!
[As if by magic, which it pretty much is, Mister Luckyatron’s eyes turn blazing red and its hand turns into a long claw.]
Mister Luckyatron: Hello there, I’m Mister Lucky, and today your luck has run out! But wait, there’s more! You’re all gonna die!
[Mister Luckyatron shambles into the stands and attempts to kill Pikapunk.]
Pikapunk: No! Don’t kill me!
[Pikapunk blocks the robot’s claw, and then due to the immense stress of being attacked by a killer robot dressed like Mister Lucky, unleashes his psycho-kinetic upon the robot. It sizzles and falls to the ground, giving Pikapunk enough time to run away before it explodes. Lamp Prime, Mister Frink, and Shrugs stare at the smoldering husk.]
Lamp Prime: Well, now it’s more accurate, because it’s dead, too. Thanks a lot, Frink. Thanks a whole heck of a lot.
Mister Frink: Who wins?
Lamp Prime: Who cares? I guess you do. Congratulations, you jerk.
[Lamp Prime manifests a couch and darkens the Hippodrome. Shrugs shrugs and resumes whittling. Mister Frink looks around and leaves the Hippodrome to await his next challenge.]

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MMM Event #55: Resolution

Posted by meekrat on June 8, 2010

Howard Cosell: This is How-ard Co-sell and with me is Charlemagne.
Ghost of Charlemagne: A good day!
Howard Cosell: Today we have CAST versus the pint-size pinnacle of perspicacity Pikapunk.
Pikapunk: I’m not that short.
Agent Big Fish: What’s persipercastity?
Ghost of Charlemagne: If you can’t say it you’re too stupid to know it, big guy.
Agent Big Fish: All right.
Agent Pheromone: Why wasn’t our entrance filled with words?
Ghost of Charlemagne: There are no words that could possibly begin to describe CAST.
Agent Pheromone: Darn tootin’!
[The Ghost of Charlemagne leans over and whispers to Howard Cosell]
Ghost of Charlemagne: What does that even mean?
Howard Cosell: I have absolutely no idea. Maybe she has gas?
[The Ghost of Charlemagne smirks and sits up straight]
Howard Cosell: Now let us begin SKEEEEEEEBALL!
[All contestants walk to their respective skeeball machines.]
Howard Cosell: CAST, have you decided your throwing order?
[Agent Big Fish grabs a ball and throws it down the lane]
Agent Big Fish: ME FIRST!
[The ball bounces around and lands in the ten hole]
Agent Man-In-Charge: Ugh, not the order I wanted, but okay.
Howard Cosell: CAST is on the board first with ten points.
[Pikapunk hurls a ball down the lane. It rolls around and drops in the thirty hole]
Howard Cosell: Pikapunk answers back quickly with thirty points of his own.
Agent Pheromone: Oh yeah? Watch this!
[Agent Pheromone whips a ball down the lane. It bounces around and lands in the twenty hole.]
Agent Pheromone: That’s what I thought!
[Pikapunk tosses another ball down the lane. It bounces around and into the thirty hole again.]
Howard Cosell: The score is now CAST thirty and Pikapunk sixty.
Agent Man-In-Charge: Who’s next?
Agent Big Fish: ME!
[Agent Big Fish charges the machine again and throws a ball down the lane. It bounces around and lands in the ten hole.]
Agent Man-In-Charge: Okay, you’re done. Hit the showers, Agent Big Fish.
Agent Big Fish: All right, captain!
[Agent Big Fish runs to the locker room]
Howard Cosell: It is your turn, Pikapunk.
[Pikapunk throws his ball down the lane and into the twenty hole.]
Howard Cosell: A twenty for Pikapunk. CAST, you’re up.
Agent Man-In-Charge: You try your hand, Agent Seven in One.
[A young Jimmy Page look-alike walks over to the machine and throws a ball down the lane. It hits the ramp and lands perfectly into the fifty hole.]
Ghost of Charlemagne: With Big Fish out of the match and Seven in One throwing like that CAST might just have a chance.
Howard Cosell: That they may, Charlemagne. That they may.
[Pikapunk throws his ball down the lane and it lands in the thirty hole.]
Howard Cosell: That brings the score to 90 – 110, in favor of Pikapunk.
Agent Pheromone: Not for long!
[Agent Pheromone whips another ball down the lane. It bounces from fifty down to forty and into the thirty hole.]
Agent Pheromone: Beat that, you gay little squirrel!
Pikapunk: I am not a squirrel!
[Pikapunk throws his ball down the lane and gets another twenty.]
Agent Pheromone: So you admit you’re gay!
Pikapunk: I am not gay!
[A very fat-looking Kurt Cobain look-alike wanders to the machine and throws another perfect fifty.]
Agent Pheromone: Sure you’re not. You even have the glow sticks to prove it.
[Pikapunk throws the ball down the lane and it lands in the forty hole.]
Pikapunk: They are not glow sticks! They’re light daggers.
Agent Pheromone: Light in the loafer daggers.
Howard Cosell: After six balls we have a score of 180 – 170 in favor of CAST.
[Agent Pheromone throws another ball down the lane and it lands in the thirty hole.]
Agent Pheromone: Any straight squirrel would be out foraging for nuts instead of holding onto glow sticks all day.
Pikapunk: I have to hold onto them or I WILL DIE!
[Pikapunk throws his ball down the lane and it bounces off the thirty into the ten hole.]
Agent Man-In-Charge: [He ponders getting involved, takes a swig from his flask, and decides to go for it.] Foraging for nuts sounds pretty homosexual if you ask me.
Ghost of Charlemagne: Slutty women also forage for nuts. Usually expensive nuts.
Agent Man-In-Charge: Right you are.
[Agent Man-In-Charge raises his flask in the direction of Ghost of Charlemagne.]
Pikapunk: I bet you forage for nuts, Agent Pheromone. What man would ever want you?
Agent Pheromone: I will make a stew out of you if you don’t watch yourself, squirrel!
[Agent Pheromone throws a ball down the lane an into the thirty hole.]
Pikapunk: I can gut you with my glow sticks, if I really wanted to! Er… light daggers!
[Pikapunk hurls the ball down the lane and into the fifty.]
Howard Cosell: With the fight raging on and eight balls rolled we have a score of 240 – 230 in favor of CAST. Can Pikapunk overcome the odds and beat CAST?
[Rowan Atkinson walks to the skeeball machine and throws the last ball down the lane into the fifty hole.]
Howard Cosell: The answer is no! With a sixty point deficit and fifty being the highest attainable score per ball, Pikapunk has been mathematically eliminated from the competition.
Pikapunk: Screw math, I get one more roll!
[Pikapunk picks up the ball and whips it at Agent Pheromone.]
Pikapunk: I am going to kick your backside!
Agent Pheromone: It’s gonna be like hunting squirrels back home.
[Pikapunk and Agent Pheromone begin to throw punches at each other.]
Howard Cosell: There you have it, your winners, CAST!
Ghost of Charlemagne: Wait a second. When did all these people come in?
Howard Cosell: What are you talking about?
Ghost of Charlemagne: Look at the audience…
Howard Cosell: I see nothing out of the ordinary.
Ghost of Charlemagne: Must be my imagination, then. Good night, everybody!

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MMM Event #55: CAST VS Pikapunk

Posted by meekrat on May 26, 2010

Howard Cosell: This is How-ard Co-sell and we are in the thick of Round Two. Besides me is the one-and-only Charlemagne.
Ghost of Charlemagne: Hello!
Howard Cosell: Yes, hello and welcome! Tonight, we are going to bring you a battle between two towering tenacious titans of the Meekrat world.
Ghost of Charlemagne: The what?
Howard Cosell: The Meekrat world.
Ghost of Charlemagne: I heard what you said. Just…what? And shouldn’t it be “meerkat”?
Howard Cosell: I heard the Land Captain and Mike P talking about some crazy Meekrat group and liked how it sounded. Can we get on with this?
Ghost of Charlemagne: [moderately confused] Yes, of course.
Howard Cosell: Now then, as I said before my colleague started babbling, tonight you are going to see two towering titans of the Meekrat world fight it out!
Agent Pheromone: There are more than two of us, stupid!
Howard Cosell: There are two teams! Now quiet, you! And the next person who questions the mighty Howard Cosell will get a knife between their ribs.
Agent Villain: Don’t make this last any longer than it has to. I have other places to be, after all.
Howard Cosell: Thank you, Agent Villain. We now bring you the team of CAST against the laser-sword-lugging light-weight that is Pikapunk.
Pikapunk: I hope these challengers are smarter than the last one — or that we’re not expected to do surgery, at least.
Agent Villain: With the exception of myself, that is very doubtful.
Agent Big Fish: Always the kidder, Agent Villain.
Ghost of Charlemagne: What competition could possibly be fair for these two teams?
Agent Seven-In-One: As a master of disguise, there is no fair competition. I always have the upper hand. Or… does John Lennon have the upper hand?
[Agent Seven-In-One disappears and a John Lennon look alike appears in his place.]
Pikapunk: Unless this is a dress-up competition your talents are worthless, Seven-in-One.
Agent Seven-In-One: I am no longer Seven-in-One, I’m John Lennon. Give peace a chance! Let’s go protest things! See? John Lennon.
Agent Man-In-Charge: Settle down. Let’s find out what the competition is before we beat this laser-sword-toting squirrel at it.
Howard Cosell: SKEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeball!
Agent Pheromone: That’s stupid. How is that little rodent going to score more points than all of us?
Ghost of Charlemagne: He doesn’t have to.
Howard Cosell: Charlemagne is corr-ect! You both have nine balls to throw down the machine in an effort to score as many points as possible. How you distribute them is up to the team.
Agent Man-In-Charge: Clearly, we need all the talents of the team. We will rotate the thrower. It’s the only way.
Howard Cosell: And there you have it. CAST versus Pikapunk in Skeeball. And now I am going to my trailer to yell at my manager for his lousy lack of scheduling capabilities.

Learn more about the challengers:
Deity Guy: Mike P! Land Captain! Where are you two?
Mike P: Right here. What’s up?
Land Captain: Ahoy there… sir?
Deity Guy: You two and I have to have a little talk.
[In a flash, Deity Guy, Mike P, and Land Captain are transported to Deity Guy‘s realm, a foggy but otherwise featureless white void.]
Mike P: Aw man, not this place again…
Land Captain: You seem upset. Did… did we do something wrong?
Deity Guy: Darn right I’m upset! Howard Cosell was blathering about Meekrat and stuff like that.
Land Captain: Oh.
Mike P: So?
Deity Guy: He said he heard you guys talking about it. Listen, I know you two have some sort of weird connection with the universe or something. I appreciate that. You can’t let anyone else hear you talking about that sort of stuff, though. Ever.
Land Captain: We didn’t think anyone could hear us.
Deity Guy: Well, someone did, and now I have to find some way to fix it. Thanks a lot, you two. You just made more work for me. If you two ever talk about this sort of thing again when someone can hear you, then I swear to whoever, you’re both being blinked out of existence. Now stay here and think about what you’ve done. I have a tournament to go watch!
[Deity Guy flashes back to the tournament, leaving Mike P and Land Captain in his realm.]
Land Captain: Does he usually get like this?
Mike P: I’ve never seen him angry about anything like this before. We have to fix this.

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Retro AOMP: Free Comic Book Day Fisticuffs #14

Posted by meekrat on May 21, 2010

I’m glad this is done. Soon, other old comics will continue to be redone, so stay tuned!

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Retro AOMP: Free Comic Book Day Fisticuffs #6

Posted by meekrat on May 10, 2010

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Retro AOMP: Free Comic Book Day Fisticuffs #5

Posted by meekrat on May 7, 2010

And so we continue our mad quest to revamp this thing. Expect the next page on Monday, because it’s likely to almost murder me.

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MMM Event #18: Resolution

Posted by meekrat on April 21, 2010

Deity Guy: You both will have one patient to operate on.
[An unconscious patient appears before each contestant]
Deity Guy: The rules are simple, the first one to fix their patient’s ailment wins.
Pikapunk: How do we know what’s wrong with them?
Deity Guy: That’s half my fun. Begin!
[Pikapunk nervously cuts into his patient with light-daggers while Bukake looks quizzically at his]
Bukake: BUKAKE?
Pikapunk: I don’t know, cut him open and find out.
Bukake: Bukake.
[Pikapunk begins to cut fold back the skin on his patient’s torso]
Bukake: Bukake?
Pikapunk: I guess he COULD have a mental illness.
Bukake: BUKAKE!
[Bukake: karate chops his patients head off]
Deity Guy: Not quite how I planned it. Pikapunk, you win by default.

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