LNH/ACRA: Master Blaster # 5: The Return of Ven-Dorr, Part One
Tom Russell
milos_parker at yahoo.com
Mon Jun 5 17:23:12 PDT 2006
This is the fifth Master Blaster special, and since
it's obvious it's not going to be the last, I'm
retroactively declaring the whole thing a series. :-)
# 1: Frickin' Lame
# 2: Super Bowl
# 3: Insufficient Postage (Russell)
# 4: Insufficient Postage (Enright)
As always, not for the young 'uns.
Mucho thanks to Martin Phipps for his
approval/comments, and to Dave Van Domelen for his
kindness.
--
Cannon Fodder was walking down the hall when he
spotted a familiar-looking soda vending machine.
"Poor WikiBoy," he mused, "transformed once again into
a mystic vending machine that dispenses free soda of
any variety." [*-- The LNHer That Anyone Can Edit was
previously edited into such a machine in LNH vol. 2 #
11 & MASTER BLASTER: SUPER BOWL SPECIAL.]
He patted the vending machine on its stylized "W"
logo and sighed. "I understand what it's like, buddy.
To be constantly abused and treated as a joke. To
always be on the receiving end.
"I'll edit you back into a person, my young
comrade-in-suffering." He paused. "... After I've
had my Mr. Paprika. So, cough it up!" He pushed the
button.
The machine beeped at him angrily, the red digital
display flashing, PLEASE INSERT 1.25.
"A dollar twenty-five? You've got to be kidding
me," said Cannon Fodder. "Someone must have screwed
around with your world-class editing. I hereby revert
the need for money." He pushed the button again.
Again, the machine beeped at him and flashed red.
"WikiBoy! What's wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?"
Cannon Fodder turned around to see that WikiBoy was
walking towards him. "WikiBoy?" said the dying
dreadnought. "You're supposed to be a vending
machine!"
WikiBoy was instantly transformed into his vending
machine form.
"But, if you're over there, what's..." Cannon
Fodder turned back. The mysterious vending machine
had vanished.
He scratched his head and shrugged his confusion
away. Nothing to lose sleep over.
He pressed the button on the WikiVend, and it
dispensed his free Mr. Paprika classic soda. He
opened the can and began to sip from its sweet, spicy
contents. That's when he heard metal shifting
overhead.
He looked straight up and found himself with just
enough time to drop his soda and mutter a mild
expletive before the hideous black shape descended,
crushing him instantly.
WikiBoy stared, silently and helplessly, at his
doppelganger. The mysterious machine shook off its
WikiVend disguise and, humming maniacally, rolled
backwards, disappearing into the shadows.
It had been a long time coming, but at last his
vengeance had begun.
The vengeance... of Ven-Dorr.
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~ # 5: THE RETURN OF ~
~ VEN-DORR, PART ONE ~
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MR. PAPRIKA WORLD HEADQUARTERS
"Mister Blaster..."
"Master Blaster."
"Right," said the executive, smiling uneasily. "We
here at Master Paprika-- uh, that is, Mr. Paprika--
well, we feel that you would be an ideal spokesperson
for our new line. That you'll help us reach out to
the young people of today."
"And I know why, too," said Master Blaster. "It's
because I carry big weapons, drink irresponsibly, have
a twenty-volume little black book..."
"Um, no, not exactly," said the executive. "It's
more to do with the phenomenal box office success of
your movie, POOP GUY TAKES A CRAP."
<plot dump>
In our third issue, the first INSUFFICIENT POSTAGE,
Master Blaster found himself playing an
incredibly-popular Saturday Night Live character, "the
Poop Guy", so-named because of his tendency to say,
"Oh, poop, I forgot my line". This inane character
was so popular that Lorne Michaels produced an even
more inane feature-length Poop Guy movie, POOP GUY
TAKES A CRAP.
The film opened this year's Cannes Film Festival
and followed Poop Guy, a noted symbologist, as he
tried to decipher the Warhol Code: secret messages
regarding the divinity of Christ hidden deep within
Warhol's repetitive paintings and exceedingly boring
movies. As he struggles through EMPIRE, he is hounded
by a murderous paraplegic monk.
The film has since gone on to set world box office
records, and it is the most profitable
comedy-thriller-mystery of all time.
</plot dump>
"So," said Master Blaster, "what's this new line of
drinks about? This isn't like New Coke, is it?"
"Oh, no," said the executive, shaking his head.
"We're not tampering with the classic Mr. Paprika
recipe. It's been very, very good to us. It's a
man's pop, after all. And you don't mess with the
man."
"Good point."
The executive stood next to a veiled piece of
poster board. "But we feel that we can be more than
the leading soda in America. And, with your help, by
this time next month, everyone across the world will
be saying, That's a man's... hybrid energy drink!" He
lifted the veil with a flourish.
"Pap?" said Master Blaster. "You're calling your
new line of hybrid energy drinks Pap?"
"Pap!" said the executive. "It's hip, it's new,
it's all the rage!"
"It'll take more than a name like mine to sell
people on a product called Pap," said Master Blaster,
showing more intellectual acumen than usual for this
series because the plot demands it.
"It's a damn good product," said the executive,
opening a cooler. He handed Master Blaster a can.
Master Blaster popped the top and took a sip.
"It's an energy drink, like any other. What's the big
deal?"
"That's where you're wrong. It's a hybrid energy
drink. Observe." He pushed a coloured stud on his
desk. "Rita? Would you come in, please?"
A rather dour-looking bun-haired secretary entered.
When she saw Master Blaster, she snorted in disgust.
"I can't believe you let this pig in here!"
Master Blaster looked at the exec. "So, she's a
lesbian. So what?"
"A lesbian!" she said. "How dare you! Just
because I don't conform to your misogynistic
stereotypes, you think I'm a lesbian?"
"If the little Dutch boy fits..."
"Enough," said the executive. "If you'll stay just
one moment more, Rita?"
She shrugged. The executive took the can away from
Master Blaster.
"Hey...?"
The exec tossed the drink in Master Blaster's face.
"Hey, buddy!" said Master Blaster. "That's
frickin' lame! What's the big... id... uh...?"
Rita had stripped buck-naked and was crawling on
the floor, saying something about holding a sausage
party.
"Sorry, sister! But I'm a married man."
Rita slinked back to her feet, rubbing her body
along Master Blaster's. She nibbled on his ear. "I
know a good divorce attorney."
"That will be all, Rita, thank you," said the
executive.
Rita pouted before leaving.
"What... what did you do to her?" asked Master
Blaster, a little afraid.
"It's what you did to her," said the executive.
"Or rather, Pap!"
"But how?"
"Just like it says on the can. It's a hybrid
energy drink. Part energy drink, part aphrodisiac."
"This is the most amazing drink ever made," said
Master Blaster.
"Next to Mr. Paprika, anyway," added the exec.
"So, do we have a deal?"
"I dunno. I'm a little uneasy about it. Isn't a
bit misogynistic?"
"Did you see the smile on her face?"
"Yeah, but..."
"She's smiling. If she's smiling, how can it be
misogynistic?"
WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK, AFTER THESE COMMERCIALS
Master Blaster is walking past a bikini car wash
ran by soaped-up co-eds.
He winks at the viewer, and then dabs his fingers
with some Pap. He rubs it into his face, and the
bikini tops fly as the girls mob him en masse.
A narrator:
WARNING! THE USE OF PAP! HYBRID ENERGY DRINK FOR
GUYS NEAR BIKINI CAR WASH GIRLS MAY RESULT IN SOAKED
CLOTHING AND NEGLECTED CARS...
Across the street, a car wash ran by grim-faced
habit-clothed nuns goes awry when they, too, fall
victim to Master Blaster's energy drink.
... AND OUTRIGHT BLASPHEMY THE LIKES OF WHICH HAVE
NOT BEEN SEEN SINCE LNH VOL. 2 # 13.
Master Blaster, wrapped in a towel and surrounded
by a bevy of beauties, smirks at the viewer.
"Would you like a harem of hotties at your beck and
call? What's that, you say? You're not popular with
the girls? Well, you are now! Just grab a six-pack
of Pap and, after you've had a refreshing beverage
from the maker's of Mr. Paprika, rub some into your
skin. Then let your Pap Daddy Vibes take care of the
rest.
"It's really that easy! All this can be yours, and
all it takes is a Pap smear!"
A MIXED REACTION, PART ONE
"I can't believe you did these commercials," said
Master Blaster's wife, Sister State-the-Obvious.
"Believe it, baby," said Master Blaster. Then, a
little hurt: "Really, wReanna, I'm not that bad of an
actor."
"That's not what I mean! I mean, these are vile!
Misogynistic! Totally degrading towards women!"
"But they're smiling!" said Master Blaster. "When
it comes on again, take a look! They're all having a
good time!"
"It's still misogynistic!"
"But it's cheerful."
"Then it's cheerfully misogynistic!"
"That has a nice ring to it," said Master Blaster.
"I still don't see the problem here. Oh, wait. I get
it! You're worried about me cheating on you.
wReanna, you never have to worry about that. I would
never cheat on you. I don't even like having all
those women hanging off of me. It's all in good fun."
"Yeah, until somebody gets hurt."
"wReanna, I'm doing this for you and our daughter.
With the money from these commercials, they'll be no
doubt about Maria going to a good college."
"You do what you want," said wReanna, throwing up
her hands. "But don't say I didn't warn you. You
reap what you sow."
BUT WHERE'S VEN-DORR?
An attractive-looking model writhes desperately
against titanium bonds. "Master Blaster!" she cries.
"You're here to save the day!"
"You better believe it, baby." He pulls out a can
of Pap.
"Pap brand hybrid energy drink?" says the girl.
"While the thought of a Pap smear makes my honeypot
tingle with excitement," she takes a deep breath,
having struggled through that portion of her line, "I
can't rock you when I'm trapped by these titanium
bonds!"
"This is a different Pap, baby," says Master
Blaster. "Pap brand hybrid energy drink comes in a
variety of flavour-and-chemical combos. Like this
one, combining yummy citrus flavour with incredibly
dangerous acid!"
He carefully pops open the can, and pours some Pap
into his gloved hands. He begins to rub it in the
titanium, and the acid eats away at the girl's bonds.
ACID PROOF GLOVES AVAILABLE ONLY IN TWELVE-CAN
FRIDGE PACKS.
A MIXED REACTION, PART TWO
Master Blaster was walking down the streets of
Net.ropolis when he passed by a young woman with a
collection bucket.
"You!" she hissed. "You're the one in those
commercials!"
"Yes...?"
"Do you know how many women have been raped because
of your aphrodisiac?"
"Hold on a second," said Master Blaster. "That's
an awfully strong word. It's not like it's roofies or
anything. It's like a perfume. Can I help it if it
makes guys irresistible?"
"That product should not be sold," said the young
woman.
"Look, these commercials are funny. Of course
they're not meant to be taken seriously!"
"But some people do take them seriously. What kind
of effect does it have on a woman, to see other women
reduced to mindless zombie sluts?"
"But we're making fun of those attitudes!"
"By endorsing them?"
"No, by showing how ridiculous they are!" Master
Blaster sighed.
"You want to really do that, then you should have
the person expressing that attitude get his ass kicked
by the women. That would be funny. That would show
how ridiculous he is, and pathetic."
"Yeah, but then guys won't buy the product."
"I rest my case."
"Look. I might be kind of crass and shallow, but I
honestly don't see women that way. I mean, Christ, I
don't even need Pap; my Mack Daddy Vibes make me
irresistible already. I'm making fun of my image as a
lady's man-- an image I had before I was married, mind
you. I'm loyal to my wife, and I love her as a
person, not as some object. She's all I need and all
I want.
"In my hysterically funny sex romp miniseries, PIGS
IN TIME, I meet many women, through out history, and I
treat them all-- well, except for Cleopatra-- with
love and respect for who they are, as people.
"And I want every woman to be her own person. And
I want every man to respect their woman, and love
their woman, for that person. And I would never, ever
support or in any way make fun of rape. That's where
I draw the line."
"Then maybe you'll help support the fight against
it," said the college girl hopefully. She pointed to
her collection bucket. "If you could make a donation?
Any amount will be appreciated."
"Of course," said Master Blaster. He had money to
spare now, and he did sincerely care about this cause.
He put a handful of large bills in the bucket. "So,
what does this money go towards? Crisis centers?"
"No," explained the girl. "It's to help fund a
march. A march to stop rape!"
"Um. How is marching around going to stop rape?"
He rubbed his head in confusion. "I mean, really, if
anything, it would promote rape."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you'll have a bunch of rape victims
gathered in one place. It'll be kind of like a job
fair. But. You know. For rapists."
I THOUGHT THIS STORY WAS CALLED THE RETURN OF
VEN-DORR?
Master Blaster woke up in the LNH infirmary and
noticed his wife at his bed-side. "Ugh! My whole
body is racked with pain! How did I end up in here?"
His wife briefly summarized the last scene, and how
it prompted the young woman to react with violence.
"Beaten up by a chick?" said the caesar of cool.
"Great! I'm never going to live this down."
Sister State-the-Obvious crossed her arms sternly.
Master Blaster became silent for a moment. Then:
"Uh... so. How long have I been out?"
"Three days."
"Three days?" Master Blaster tried to sit up, but
the pain was too great.
"You'll be in bed for some time," said Sister
State-the-Obvious delicately. "But we've got a
physical therapist coming, and so the doctors say
you'll walk again in a few months time."
"A few months? Are you crazy? I've got more
commercials to shoot!"
Sister State-the-Obvious shook her head sadly and
called for WikiBoy. The LNHer Anyone Can Edit soon
appeared in the door.
"WikiBoy," said Sister State-the-Obvious, "would
you mind terribly if I edited you into a video
cassette tape that contains all relevant footage from
the past three days?"
"No, I wouldn't mind," said WikiBoy. "Thank you
for asking," he added, staring directly at Master
Blaster. His body suddenly contracted into a
video-cassette in mid-air; as it descended, Sister
State-the-Obvious caught it deftly.
Master Blaster was puzzled. "What did he mean by
that?... and why did he look at me that way...?"
Sister State-the-Obvious inserted WikiVHS into the
VCR at the foot of Master Blaster's bed. The caesar
of cool watched with interest...
COMMERCIAL # 3
A hot, busty young woman, somehow positioning
herself so as to provide both an upskirt and
downblouse view simultaneously, frets on the side of
the road, next to her overheated car.
Master Blaster arrives on the scene, dismounting
his stallion with a deft leap.
"Master Blaster!" coos the blonde orgasmically.
"I've got a leaky radiator!"
"I bet you do!" he says.
"What does that mean?" asks the girl.
"Never mind," says Master Blaster. "For I have the
solution!" He thrusts his hand into the air, and in
that hand he holds a can of Pap!
"But how is the refreshing hybrid energy drink,
Pap, going to help my radiator?"
Master Blaster slams his fist on the hood of her
car, and it pops open (scaring his horse). He quickly
unscrews the hot radiator cap with his bare, manly
hands, somehow managing not to be burnt. He pops open
his can of Pap and starts to pour it down.
An announcer:
PAP! BRAND HYBRID ENERGY DRINK, FROM THE PEOPLE AT
MR. PAPRIKA. NOW COMES IN BLUEBERRY ANTI-FREEZE
FLAVOUR.
A MIXED REACTION, PART 3
"Tonight's top story: the eighteenth death linked
to Mr. Paprika's new energy drink slash anti-freeze
combo. Public backlash is palpable, and playing hob
with Mr. Paprika's stock. The investors are very
nervous, law-suits are in the air... but the Paprika
executive behind the new drink line is standing firm.
We now go live, to his statement."
"Some people are saying that this drink isn't safe,
that it's somehow dangerous to market a carbonated
product that's sixty percent anti-freeze. But I say
to you, would Mr. Paprika market a drink that wasn't
safe? Would Master Blaster, lovable ne'er-do-well of
the LNH, sponsor a drink that wasn't safe? Would I
give it to my kids, the one source of joy I have in
the world, if it wasn't safe?
"And finally, would I drink it myself if wasn't
safe?" The executive pops open a can of Blueberry
Anti-Freeze Pap and gurgles it down. His face turns
green and he gasps for air, clutching at his throat.
He crumbles to the ground.
The newsman adjusts his tie nonchalantly. "His
successors apparently are ordering an immediate
withdraw of the entire Pap line, and are firing any
and everybody associated with it.
"Oh, and this just in: the executive's ten children
were found dead in their home this evening, bringing
the death toll up to twenty-nine."
He clears his throat and takes a sip from his can
of Pap. He looks at the label with trepidation.
"Oops. Make that thirty."
WHERE'S VEN-DORR? BOO!
"They're firing me?" said Master Blaster in
disbelief. "How can they be firing me?"
"The tape's not finished," said Sister
State-the-Obvious.
ME WANT VEN-DORR!!!
Nervous executives in the board room.
"Well, he really dropped the ball on us, this
time," says one, gruffly. "Who would have thought
selling a deadly addictive product would give us such
a negative image? I mean, Big Tobacco seems to make
out alright."
"Is anti-freeze addictive?" asks a younger exec.
"It would be. If it didn't kill you."
"Oh."
"It's a damn shame," says the first exec. "We put
so much money into this, we've got millions of units,
and now they're all going to the landfill. If only
there was some way we could use them."
"Isn't there some way we can spin this?" says
another. "Make it cool?"
QUESTION: HOW COULD WE HAVE VIDEO FOOTAGE OF THAT LAST
SCENE?
Two teens stand against a building, filmed in
gritty black-and-white. "Man," says one to the other.
"Man."
"I just... you know?"
"No. What?"
"I just... I always feel like my parents don't get
me."
"Yeah."
"They're just... it's like we're two different...
you know?"
"Same here, man. Same here."
"I just want to be me, you know. I just want... I
dunno what I want."
"I know what you want," says the second.
"You do?"
"Yeah. You want what everybody wants."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"A soda product that's so extreme, that it kills
you."
"That's cool."
Suddenly, a can of Pap whips towards the kid with
improbable speed, going straight through his head and
leaving a sizable hole. He crumbles to the ground.
The camera cuts to a vending machine, dark and
ominous, as it comes closer-- closer-- closer...
PAP. THE HYBRID ENERGY DRINK THAT'S SO EXTREME, IT
KILLS YOU.
ANSWER: WHO CARES? IT'S VEN-DORR!!!
"Tonight's top story: Pap, the controversial line
of hybrid-energy drinks, was reinstated today, with a
new marketing campaign, starring Ven-Dorr, the Machine
That Walked, Err, Rolled Like a Man. The death toll
has increased at an exponential rate, but no one seems
to much care. We turn to our expert panel for more on
this phenomenon. We have Super-Apathy Lad, a member
of the LNH and expert on apathy, and Sister
State-the-Obvious, who is an expert on... uh... stuff?
Super-Ap -- can I call you Super-Ap?"
Super-Apathy Lad shrugs.
"We'll start with you. Why is there such apathy
towards a product that has garnered comparisons to
Rwanda and Darfar for sheer bloodshed?"
"Nobody cares."
"About Pap?"
"Well, and the genocides in Rwanda and Darfar, too.
If anyone cared, they would have stopped them. But
they didn't. It's really quite disgraceful. And they
won't stop this."
"Yes, but why not?"
But Super-Apathy Lad has fallen asleep; the strain
of stringing five sentences together into a
semi-coherent thought was too much for him.
"Sister State-the-Obvious? Any thoughts?"
"Well, Ven-Dorr is cool," says Sister
State-the-Obvious with a shrug. "I mean. Come on.
Isn't it obvious? Walking, talking sentient vending
machine, killing people with soda and change? That's
pretty frickin' awesome."
"Frickin'...?" Super-Apathy Lad startles awake for
a brief and fluttering moment.
"Last, but not least, let's turn to our
representative of the anti-Ven-Dorr crowd, Focus on
the Family's Dr. James Dobson."
"Actually," says Dobson. "While I normally am
staunchly against violence in the media and the
glorification of teen suicide, I find the recent Pap
commercials starring Ven-Dorr to be infinitely
amusing. I mean, come on, he's pretty frickin'
awesome."
"But my husband is the caesar of cool," says Sister
State-the-Obvious.
Dobson scoffs. "Compared to Ven-Dorr? Master
Blaster is frickin' lame."
"And," adds the newsman, "ironically, since he's
currently in a coma and may never walk again, that's
true. He is, in actuality, lame. Or, if you will:
frickin' lame."
SNOW
Sister State-the-Obvious ejected the tape and
reverted WikiBoy back into his human form. "You'll
start your therapy next week, Rob," said Sister
State-the-Obvious. "Don't worry. We'll get you
walking again. In the meantime, can I get you
anything?"
"No," said Master Blaster.
YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW
"I was on top of the world," said Master Blaster to
himself. "I was raking in the dough, making
cheerfully misogynistic commercials, starring in my
own retroactive sex romp mini-series, the
critically-acclaimed PIGS IN TIME... and now it's all
gone wrong. So terribly wrong.
"I'm lame.
"I'm frickin' lame."
MASTER BLASTER-- CRIPPLED?
VEN-DORR-- TRIUMPHANT?
SUPER-APATHY LAD-- LUCID?
YOU KNOW THIS CAN'T BE THE WAY IT ENDS!
FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS (BESIDES THE RESET BUTTON
RESTORATION OF STATUS QUO) IN OUR NEXT INCREDIBLE
ISSUE---
" THE RETURN OF VEN-DORR PART TWO
MASTER BLASTER VS. VEN-DORR "
Master Blaster: Martin Phipps.
Sister State-the-Obvious, Cannon Fodder: wReam.
WikiBoy: Tom Russell.
Super-Apathy Lad: Jacob Lesgold.
Ven-Dorr: Dave Van Domelen.
He first appeared in "Ven-Dorr, The Soda Machine
That Walked, Err, Rolled Like a Man", by Van Domelen,
and made two further appearances as much as I can
ascertain: LetterinG MaN # 6, by Charles Fitzgerald,
and LNHCP # 4-6 by Ken Schmidt. He appears through
Dave's kind permission.
As to what made him into the vicious coin-operated
death-dealer we see here? All will be revealed in due
time, my children.
A great deal of inspiration for this story comes from
the recent TAG BODY SPRAY commercials, and Dan Slott's
recent Starfox story in SHE-HULK.
(C) COPYRIGHT 2006 TOM RUSSELL.
---
Tom Russell
Director of MILOS, LIFE AND TIMES OF A DREAMER
Limited autographed dvds now on sale, directly from the filmmaker
"In the beginning, Milos seems to have no clue how to relate
to anyone. He is quizzical, leaving the viewer questioning
and wondering..."
-- Ryan M. Niemiec, co-author of MOVIES AND MENTAL ILLNESS
--
"If a comic book, book, movie or novel is not somebody's fantasy
then who wrote it and to whom does it appeal to? In order for a
shared universe to have a widespread appeal, it has to appeal on
a primal level. If somebody says superhero comics are just 'wish
fulfillment' then he needs to explain what is entertainment that
doesn't satisfy our wishes and what satisfaction at all you can get
from it." -- Dr. Martin Phipps
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