[LNH/ACRA/APES] Master Blaster: Frickin' Lame, an Apes Month One-Shot
milos_parker at yahoo.com
Sun Jan 15 23:36:43 PST 2006
AN ACRAPHOBE/ APES MONTH EXTRAVAGANZA
MASTER BLASTER: FRICKIN' LAME
BY TOM RUSSELL
WITH THE PLOTTING ASSISTANCE OF
SAXON BRENTON & MARTIN PHIPPS
This story deals with adult subject matter in the most
juvenile way possible. Consider this (and the ACRA
label) fair warning.
How drunk am I?, wondered Master Blaster as he
swiveled his stool towards the bartender. The
bartender, knowing that he was a minor character,
simply refilled the Legionnaire's drink before wiping
the countertop with a rag. Because that's what
Master Blaster took a swig and swiveled his
swiveling swiveler in the direction of the sight that
caused him to swivel his swiveler back to the
bartender (wipe, wipe, sigh) in the first place. And
that impetus for the swiveling motion of the swiveler,
that swivel-starting sight, was an ape.
Oh ship, thought Master Blaster. Either I'm drunk
off my ass, or this is Apes Month. He swiveled his
swiveling swiveler back to the bartender, who had now
taken the form of a gorilla. Rather than confirm one
theory or the other, it only managed to compound the
problem: now, either he was really, really drunk, or
it was really, really Apes Month.
Aw, what the hell. "Hey, monkey," sloshed the
sloshing net.hero as he swiveled in his swiveling
swiveler to the swivel-starting simian sight. "Hey.
You're a monkey."
"I'm an ape," said the ape quietly. "I'm a bonobo
"Bonobo. My name's Herman."
"You're a funny little talking monkey."
"I'm an ape. A bonobo."
"Bonobo!" Master Blaster smiled and began to sing.
Oh, I wish I were a bonobo
Because they never fight
They just start to screw around
Then everything's all right
Oh, on average the mighty bonobo
Screws fifteen times a day
That's just in captivity
In the wild it's less they say
Master Blaster burst out into laughter. "I
remember now! You're the horny monkey!"
"Man, you guys are the coolest. You have your own
song. I mean, we don't have our own song. Man.
Horny monkeys... apes, whatever. I mean, that's life,
that's where it's at, man. Let me tell you something,
Sherman." Master Blaster hiccoughed.
"Let me tell you something," sloshed the lush
lusciously. "I have a dream, Herman. A dream about a
magical place. Where there's no STDs, no pregnancies.
And girls just love to screw. You just walk up to
`em, pull `im out, and they just start giving it to
you. On the bus, on the sidewalk, wherever, and no
one pays any mind. Business as usual. Wouldn't
that... wouldn't that just be great?"
"You just described my species."
"Man, I wish I were a bonobo. Because... do you
know why? I'll tell you. You want to know why? You
"Because they never fight," sang Master Blaster.
"They just start to screw around, and then
everything's all right. That's love man. That's...
that's utopia. Man," and now there are tears in his
eyes, "why can't life be like that?"
"Can we stop talking about this, please?" said
"What's wrong, little buddy?" said Master Blaster.
"Little buddy. Hey! Hey, everybody!" He waved his
arms in the air, gathering everyone's attention. "I'm
Master Blaster of the LNH, and this is my new best
friend, Herman. Herman the bonobo. Total... total
cocksmith, man. Total ladies man."
He swiveled his swiveler to put his arm around his
new best friend. But Herman was no longer there.
Master Blaster spied him making a hasty exit. "Hey!
Wait up, man!"
"Hey, Herman, wait up," said Master Blaster,
stumbling into the cold January night. "What's wrong,
man? You don't just walk out on your best friend, man.
Not cool. Not cool."
"I'm not comfortable talking about this with a
"First off, I'm not a stranger. I'm your new best
friend. Second, your whole life is nookie. You're
"Well, not me. Maybe the rest of them, but not
"What's that mean?"
"I've said too much. Never mind."
"No, man, wait." Master Blaster grabbed his arm.
"You can talk to me, Herman. I mean, you're my best
friend. If you can't talk to me, who can you talk
"Well... lately I... I can't... I can't..."
"Oh no. You mean...?"
"I've... I've heard stories about... about guys who
lose it, but I never... oh, Herman. I'm so sorry."
"It's all right. I don't miss it. Much, anyway."
"We're going to fix this," said Master Blaster.
"Come with me, Herman. We're going to restore your
"Whatever. We're going to fix it."
"Thanks anyway, but it's hopeless."
"Hey, I don't want to hear this defeatist talk!"
said Master Blaster. "If there's one thing being with
the Legion's taught me, it's that when there's a will,
there's a way. And if you don't have the will
power... then, a gun will do. And I have a gun. So
we're good to go, man. Besides. I know an expert."
"I've been to all the doctors," said Herman.
Master Blaster smiled knowingly. "I'll do you one
better, my friend. Don't worry. Everything's going
to be all right. If he can't help you, no one will."
"Philip Milton Roth, Pulitzer-Prize Winning Master
of American Letters! How's it hanging, you dirty old
man, you?" said Master Blaster, high-fiving our
special guest star.
"I'm doing fine. And how's my old army buddy?"
"Not bad, not bad. Been a while."
"Yeah. Heard you got married."
"So did you?"
"Yeah, then she wrote a bunch of dirty lies about
me and our sex life. Very unflattering."
"Okay, so they were true. And I did get to pull
the old `thinly-veiled caricature revenge fiction'
"How'd that work out?"
"Won the Ambassador. So what brings you here?"
"This is my friend, Herman the bonobo ape. Herman,
this is my old army buddy, Philip Roth."
Herman shook Roth's hand. "Were either of you even
in the army...?"
"Any friend of Master Blaster is a friend of mine,"
said Roth. "What's your problem?"
Herman looked at his feet.
"He's a little embarrassed. His, uh... ahem."
"Ahem?" Roth raised an eyebrow.
"Ahem," said Master Blaster solemnly.
Roth shrunk down to Herman's level, supporting his
weight on his haunches, balancing on the balls of his
feet. "Ahem...?" he said, tenderly.
"Ahem," confirmed Herman, choking back tears.
"When was the last time...?"
Master Blaster sat in the foyer adjacent to the
evil lair of Philip Roth, idly attempting to read some
of the master's latest novels. They were all about
anti-Semitism, and, more importantly, Philip Roth.
Master Blaster just couldn't get into them: the
earlier stuff made better stroke material. (He was
still waiting for Hollywood to film his favourite Roth
novel, _The Breast_, the one about the guy who found
himself transformed into a giant boob. Master Blaster
felt it held really deep and meaningful insights into
modern... uh... boobs.)
After a long wait, Roth entered, having returned
from his lab with Herman. "I ran our little friend
through a gamut of tests," said Roth. "And I've come
to the conclusion that what we need here is an
"Well, that's great!" said Master Blaster. "I've
got some horny goat weed on me." He reached into his
belt and pulled out fifteen pouches.
"That won't do it," said Roth sadly.
"I won't give up!" said Master Blaster. "Hook me
up to your machine, Roth-o-roonie. I'll... I'll give
him a transfusion... of my... my Mack Daddy vibes."
"Even that won't be enough."
"It's hopeless," said Herman sadly. "Hopeless. I
shall always be... the lonely bonobo! The only lonely
"There's another option," said Roth. "It's a
tricky one. Master Blaster mentioned it just a scant
moment ago: power."
Master Blaster snapped his fingers. "The ultimate
aphrodisiac. But does it work?"
"Works for me with the college girls," said Roth
with a shrug.
"How much..." began Herman. "How much will I
"The greatest power of all."
NET.ROPOLIS NEWS REPORT
Our top story this hour, Robert Ramirez-- the
net.hero known as Master Blaster-- has announced his
candidacy for President of the Loonited States.
"Master Blaster, Master Blaster!"
"Yes, you in the back, with the pink raincoat."
"Who is your running mate?"
"His name is Herman. And I'm doing it all for
"Well, he's lost... confidence... in himself. And
I feel that by elevating to a position of the greatest
power that confidence will be restored."
"So why are you running for President and he for
"Hell, everyone knows the VP pulls the strings,
"Master Blaster, Master Blaster! How do you expect
to win the Presidency?"
"What, you mean, what's my stance on the issues,
what can I offer the American people?"
"No, I mean, how do you expect to win when the
election is over two and a half years away?"
"I trust the American people will make the right
"Now, what party are you running under?"
"Well," began Master Blaster, taking a swig of
whiskey, "Democrats don't want me, Republicans don't
want me... so I guess I'm running under my own party."
"Which is called what?"
"The, uh, the Master Blaster Party."
Herman tugged on his shoulder and whispered.
"Uh, correction. The Master Blaster and Herman
"Right. What's your stance on gun control?"
"That's a tough question, Chris. And an issue
that's vital to American discourse today. And as I
travel from place to place, I hear a lot of a
different viewpoints. My wife, her solution is, give
her all the guns."
"Give her all the guns?"
"Yeah. Nobody else gets guns but her."
"Is that your position also?"
"Hell, no. You think I listen to what a woman
says? You know why there hasn't been a woman
"Because of sexism and discrimination?"
"No, because woman don't belong in the oval office.
Unless they're under the desk."
"Whoa! That's a... uh... that's a controversial
stance, Mister Ramirez."
"Right. Let's move on. One of the most potent
issues in today's post-9/11 world is terrorism and
war. Where do you stand on these issues?"
"Well, in this latest war, President Hex Luthor did
not get the support of other nations, like Germany and
"I say we nuke the sons-of-bitches."
"Germany and France."
"Right. Won't be anyone talking smack then."
"Uh..." The interviewer shuffled his stack of
questions nervously. "What about poverty? The
economy was cited as a key concern in..."
"Two words: Legalized. Hookers."
"I say we legalize hookers, and everyone who
doesn't have a job, they're automatically a hooker."
"Automatically a hooker. And see, then there's no
unemployment. There's always a demand for cheap,
anonymous, degrading sexual encounters. And that
shuts down all this welfare nonsense, all this social
safety net. No unemployment, no disability programs.
No social security for retirees-- some things just get
better with age, you know? Anyone can do this work,
regardless of physical disability. Anyone who can
open their mouth can be a hooker. Even retards."
"I don't think the American people were ready for
you, honey," said Sister State-the-Obvious gently.
"You mean, because the election is still two and a
half years away?"
"I mean, since you're a complete and total idiot."
"It doesn't matter," said Master Blaster. "I was
just doing this for Herman, anyway..."
"That's sweet of you, dear," said Sister
"Trying to destroy the entire country and
everything it stands for... but for a friend? Coming
from you, that's sweet."
"There has to be some way," said Master Blaster.
"I'm not going to give up yet."
"Maybe there's something you're overlooking," said
his wife. "Maybe this doesn't have anything to do
with his equipment at all. Maybe this has to do with
"God damn him!" said Master Blaster. "I've always
told him to stay away from foods that are high in
"Dear, you've only known him for a week. I think
Herman's problem is... he's not loved."
"Of course!" said Master Blaster. "That's so
obvious! Thank you, wReanna!" He gave her a big
smooch and was on his way.
An hour later, Master Blaster returned with Herman.
"All right, let's give this a go," said Master
"What do you mean?" said Sister State-the-Obvious.
"You said Herman needs to be loved," said Master
Blaster. "And I don't know anyone in the world who
has more love in her heart than...
ohmygodwhatareyoudoingwiththatchair...? AKKK!!! Oh,
please, put it down, put it down! Honey! Please!
Ouch! Ouch! Ow!"
"I just want you to know that I have nothing to do
with this," said Herman.
"Please inform my husband when he gets out of
traction that I'm throwing out his nipple clamps."
"But, honey," interjected the bleeding Master
Blaster, "I've been a bad boy and mommy needs to...
uh... clamps? What clamps? I don't have any clamps.
That's sissy stuff. I'm a man, baby. I'm a man!...
please, don't hit me with the..."
"Doctor says the casts come off in six months,"
said Master Blaster optimistically.
"Look," said Herman. "I mean, thank you for trying
to help me and everything... but..."
"Trying? Au contraire, little buddy. I'm not
nearly finished yet."
"Oh, please... please, just stop."
"I'm not giving up on you, Herman. Now don't give
up on yourself. Ol' Master Blaster still has a couple
of tricks up his sleeve."
Master Blaster pushed a button on his remote
control. The bed started to float in the air.
Herman leaped onto the bed, careful not to disturb
Master Blaster's full body casts and the slings
holding him in traction.
"Don't forget the morphine drip," said the caesar
"What are we doing?"
"We're going to find you a wife, me bucko." Master
Blaster pushed another button on his remote. From
underneath the bed, two large guns emerged, blowing a
hole in the wall. The floating bed left the building,
and the city, and the continent.
"But where are we going?" asked Herman.
"Where all desperate lonely guys go to find a
wife," said Master Blaster.
Master Blaster pushed the button on his remote, and
his flying hospital bed began to make its slow descent
to the ground. Master Blaster and Herman floated just
a few feet above the ground, hovering down the street,
taking in the sights. "Americans, coming through!"
Master Blaster shouted. "Americans here! Step
Most of those on the street didn't take much
interest; a few women in their teens crowded around
the floating bed.
"I be very good to you," said one of them. "Be
very good wife."
"I always listen," said another.
"I'll never love you," said a third. "All you
represent to me is a chance to leave this god-forsaken
"Well, I'm sorry, little miss. But my swinging
bachelor friend here is looking for love."
"I can pretend," said the third.
Master Blaster exchanged a glance with Herman.
Herman shook his head.
"Sorry," he said, floating away.
"Yes!" said Master Blaster as the floating bed
entered the dimly-lit building. "This is frickin'
awesome! Frickin' cock-fight, man!"
"I can't see anything," said Herman.
"That's because we're in the back. Hey! Coming
through! Americans, coming through!"
There was some grumbling as the crowd parted,
allowing the bed to float to the front of the arena.
"Yeah! Look at `em go, Herman! Frickin' cock-fight!
This is bad... as... s..."
"It's okay," said Herman once they were outside the
"The... the poor little guy..." said Master
Blaster, choking back tears. "That... that wasn't
frickin' awesome. That's not right. That's not
frickin' awesome at all. That's lame."
"Yes. Yes, it is."
"It's lame, Herman. I mean, all the blood... poor
"It's frickin' lame," said Herman.
"What's that over there?" said Master Blaster. He
darted his eyes in the direction he was speaking of.
"Oh, it looks like the government is systematically
oppressing the Muslim population," said Herman.
"What about that mob over there? Are they
"No, those are Christians. My tagalog's a little
rusty-- but I think they're saying something to the
effect of, the Muslims are evil. And if they're not
evil, why don't they just convert to Christianity?"
"This country's frickin' lame," said Master
Blaster. "Let's hurry up, find you a wife, swoop down
and get the hell out of here."
"There's one over there!"
"Now let's get out of here." The bed started on
its way back home.
THEY MET, THEY SPOKE,
THEIR LOVE BECAME INFINITY
"Who are you?" said the young woman they had
"I'm Herman. I'm to be your husband, I suppose."
"What?" said the woman. "I don't want to marry a
"He's an American," said Master Blaster in
"I like men with body hair," said the young woman
optimistically. "Very rugged, very sexy. My name is
Cory. I've often dreamt of..."
"Oh, shut up," said Master Blaster. "You're just a
plot device, anyway. We don't care about any
half-assed attempts to give you a personality.
Herman, you feel up to the challenge?"
"I think so. I suddenly feel... restored. Whole."
"Arbitrary pat endings will do that to you."
Suddenly, Herman was transformed into a beautiful,
"Herman! What happened, little buddy?"
"You have freed me from my curse, my friend," said
the blonde, who still (creepily enough) sounded like
Herman. "Long ago, I was a famous-- but selfish--
hard-bodied lesbian. An evil witch cast a spell on
me, that I should forever be trapped in the form of an
impotent bonobo ape until a being more self-centered
than myself put aside his selfishness and helped me
find true love. Now, the spell is broken, and the
witch's magicks are mine to wield! And using those
magicks, I hereby heal your body."
The cast faded away, and Master Blaster felt good
"Does this mean I have to go back to the
Philippines?" said Cory.
"Of course not, dear child!" said Herman, laughing.
"That country is frickin' lame."
"Poor little chickens," said Master Blaster.
"You will come live with me," said Herman, "and
together, we shall discover the joys of Sapphic love!"
"Good, great," said Master Blaster. "Than the
"The story's over."
"About time. Poor little chickens. Frickin' lame,
man. Frickin' lame."
Master Blaster: Martin Phipps.
Sister State-the-Obvious: wReam.
Both are not reserved.
(C) COPYRIGHT 2006 TOM RUSSELL.
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