ACRA/LNH: The Blood Scrawled Crystal Skull of the Namer Boy -- Documentary Project: Season Four #4 Part One
Arthur Spitzer
arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Wed Oct 26 22:10:25 PDT 2022
Warning: Yeah, yeah. Horrible Unpleasant Upsetting Stuff That No One Should Ever Read
-- but if you want to I'm not going to stop you. You've been warned.
'All the nightmares came today
And it looks as though they're here to stay'
(Oh! You Pretty Things)
-- David Bowie
"Is this thing on?" said Namer Boy looking to see if the floating cam.thingee's red light was
blinking. "Okay, okay." He looked straight into the cam.thingee. "And -- We're Back! It's
Season... ummm," Name Boy looked at his fingers and began to count them. "Three! No no, wait --
Four! Yeah, Four! Season Four of the Namer Boy: Documentary Project!
"And, okay, I know -- a lot of you have been really upset by how I haven't really appeared much in
the other seasons -- and BELIEVE ME I'm upset about it too! But I assure you this season will be
all about me and not all that other nonsense about conspiracy nuts, people suffering from
Namerboyuhneeen (or whatever), Charlie Sheen -- nope. None of that stuff. Just me and my
exciting, thrillin life. I promise.
"And also the USENETflix Lawyers wanted me to tell you all that it will be perfectly safe to view
as long you are watching it on an approved streaming service like USENETflix. Don't buy bootleg
VHS tapes on the street of this! Don't do it!! I'm not sure if any of those rumors about people
dying while watching bootlegs are true -- but just to be completely safe -- pay the (I dunno --
20? Really? It's that much? *Ahem*) Twenty bucks a month for USENETflix! Don't buy bootleg VHS
tapes! Don't do it! Okay, okay. I think that's enough of all that. Let's start this New Season
of the Namer Boy: Documentary Project!
"And I'm in this room -- one of the many, many Legion of Net.Heroes rooms in the LNH's
Headquarters. And what am I doing in this room?" Namer Boy paused as if to ponder that question
and finally, "Oh, right right right! I'm doing Inventory Duty. Yeah, inventory duty. So, you
see all these weird strange looking objects," Namer Boy gestured towards all the strange and weird
looking objects. "And it's my job to umm, well, let's just show you -- okay right here," Namer
Boy gestured to a barcode on one of the strange objects in the room. "That's a barcode. And so I
take my," Namer Boy took out his inventory.thingee, "Inventory.thingee and push this button and --
there! See that red light shining on the barcode? That goes into the system -- and it gets
counted. And that's how it's done. Pretty simple, right?
"As for stuff that should be in this room, but isn't because it's been misplaced or stolen --
well, that's someone else's problem. My job is to," but before Namer Boy could continue with that
though a basketball rolled by him. "What the...?"
"Hey, Namer Lad! Doing the inventory duty thing? Oh, what's this?" Bad Timing Boy said as he
looked at the floating cam.thingee. "Are we on TV? Hey, there everyone! Yeah, it's me -- the
coolest LNH'r ever -- The One, The Only..."
"No! No!! Bad Timing Boy! You shouldn't be in here!! You can't ever be in..."
"Relax, Namer Lad! Was just playing some basketball in the hallway and I think the ball slipped
its way..."
"You can't be in here! You can never be in here!! You know what this room is called, don't you?!
It's called The Bad Timing Boy (and Bad Judgment Boy) Can-Never-Ever-Ever-Ever-Ever-Ever-Ever-
EVER-Be-Allowed-Into-This-Room Room!!!!!!!"
"That's a lot of Evers -- but relax -- once I get the... oh, there it is!" said Bad Timing Boy
spotting the basketball. And before Namer Boy could stop him, he rushed over to the ball. But
before he could get to it -- his foot slipped on a banana peel causing Bad Timing Boy to fall.
But Bad Timing Boy (thanks to many years of training) managed to twist and contort his body so he
could grab at a lever on some strange device to avoid hitting the ground.
"Hah! That was close. Thought I was going to..." Bad Timing Boy started to say and then he
noticed that Namer Boy had a very troubled expression on his face and he turned around and looked
at the weird device that he had pulled the lever on. It had three Crystal Skulls on its top that
were starting to glow very, VERY red. Below the skulls were a bunch of weird red symbols that
were flashing away as if counting down to something. And it had this sinister sounding hum that
grew louder and louder. "Oh, that. Don't worry! I got this. Just need to..."
"Don't! Don't touch it!!" shouted Namer Boy as he tried to pull Bad Timing Boy away from the
object. But before he could, Bad Timing Boy managed to disconnect one of the wires.
"Hmm. Okay not that wire I guess," said Bad Timing Boy as the weird looking symbols flashed even
faster and faster.
And then...
There was a very, very loud burst. A massive crimson wave of light spread across the entire
Net.ropolis landscape and kept going and going. And various flying objects, planes, helicopters,
flight.thingees, Zeppelins made of processed food began to fall from the sky. And no one stopped
them. Some of them crashed into skyscrapers causing those buildings to burn. And no one stopped
that either. There were no fire engines or ambulances or police cars racing through the streets.
And other than the sound of crackling flames, there was just a dead silence that hung over
Net.ropolis for the longest time. And the sky became redder and redder. And the Sun above became
darker and darker.
And then Eleven Hours and Six Minutes later...
The corpses of Namer Boy and Bad Timing Boy began to twitch and lurch up from the ground. Namer
Boy started to shamble over towards the door, but tripped over Bad Timing Boy's basketball.
The BLOOD
Scrawled CRYSTAL SKULL
of the NAMER BOY
-- Documentary Project: SEASON Four #4
(Possibly an ELSEWHIRL? -- Okay... yeah probably one...)
Years later...
"Heeey There, Boys and Ghouls!" cackled what looked a bit like the rotting corpse of Kid Recap
popping up out of a coffin like a jack-in-the box on meth, "Yes, it's your ol' pal Kid Recap a
little worse for the wear! Those Darn Revampiric Bombs -- Oh, don't get me started! But now days
-- I like to call myself...
"The Crypto Currency RECAPPER!!!! Hmm? Crypto Currency -- you're wondering why that's still a
thing even though it looks like we're in some Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland? Yeah, I don't know
either. But hey, as they say, Buy the Dip! Or am I thinking Pry the Hip? Oh, well." The Crypto
Currency Recapper shambled his way over to an easy chair next to a treasure chest covered in
cobwebs and plopped his decaying body onto it. "Oh, I suppose you want me to recap something --
perhaps all that stuff that happened between the Revampiric Bomb blowing up Net.ropolis all the
way to me hawking Crypto Currency? And sure I'd love to do that -- but considering no one has
actually written a story about all that stuff -- CAN'T really recap it! I mean I suppose I could
recap all of the previous Namer Boy: Documentary Project Issues -- but I don't think that would
really help you understand this whole story better. Or perhaps I could," said The Crypto Currency
Recapper lifting up the treasure chests lid and revealing all kinds of shiny crypto, "Entice you
with a little WereDogeCoin! Sure to go all the way to the MOON (assuming it doesn't get like shot
with a silverbulletSECInvestigation)!
"No? Okay," he plucked out another piece of crypto, "How about this one -- BiteMeIt'sFunCoin? Or
maybe you're more of a fan of ITurnedIntoASatanicallyReanimatedCorpseAndAllIGotWasThisStupidCoin
Coin..."
But before The Crypto Currency Recapper could continue a number of incredibly well ripped pale
bald monks tumbled from the Crypt's very dark, shadowy stairs and surrounded him. Each one had a
black flail that that they were twirling around. They were waiting for someone. Someone who was
descending down the stairs in a righteous manner. A very pale looking man covered in a black
flowing robe. On top of his head was something that looked a bit like some Medieval Witchfinder
type hat. Held in one of his hands was what looked like a trident that was glowing red.
The Crypto Currency Recapper smiled as he recognized the man "Ooh! Speaking of Satanically
Reanimated Corpses -- it's our good buddy -- The Self-Righteous Preacher! Looking for some hot
sweaty crypto action? Perhaps some GotABugUpMyAssCoin?"
The Man who had once been the Self-Righteous Preacher winced a bit and then gave a foul glare, "Do
not call me that old dead name of that wicked sinner who I was before the glorious Revampiric Fire
Baptized my wretched human form so I could be turned into an instrument for The Dark Gods of The
Grave. And then scour the lands and spread the word so that others could be saved like me or
doomed if they so chose. I, The Righteous Inquisitor!"
"So. That's a 'No' on the GotABugUpMyAssCoin?"
"Recapper, I come here to give you one last chance to save yourself. One last chance to submit
yourself to and beg for The Dark Gods of The Grave's forgiveness! To save yourself from the
Heresy of this Fourth Wall Breaking and other Ridiculous Foolishness Chaotic Anarchy so that you
can finally be bathed in the Righteous Sublime of The One True Order!"
"Order?" The Crypto Currency Recapper said as if pondering on it for a moment. "Oh, sure... I'll
take a Hand on Rye hold the Mustard! No, wait, make that double the Mustard!"
The Righteous Inquisitor shook his head sadly. "So, it is Annihilation that you choose. Very
well." He pointed the Trident in his hand at the grinning Recapper and a burst of crimson light
consumed The Recapper's entire body. All that was left was black stain smoldering from The Crypto
Currency Recapper's easy chair.
Then The Righteous Inquisitor looked at his followers. "Burn it down. Burn it all down. This
place must be Cleansed." And then he walked back up the stairs with a satisfied expression on his
face.
Another Sinner down.
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Cannon Fodder's eyes popped wide open and his heart was racing like crazy. Oh, God. He turned
his head and saw his alarm clock. It was blinking 12:00. The electricity must have gone out. He
was in his bed. It was just a dream. Just an awful nightmare. But he was safe in his bed.
God, that was a relief. All that crazy stuff about Bad Timing Boy accidentally turning on some
machine with crystal skulls that caused a Revampiric Bomb to destroy Net.ropolis. And then that
stuff with Kid Recap trying to hawk crypto. Jesus!
Wait. Maybe it was some kind of vision? Had he had a glimpse into some horrible nightmarish
future? Maybe he should write it down before he forgot about it? Yeah, that sounded like a good
idea. His hand reached for the lamp switch next to his bed. Damn, bulb's dead. And then he
looked at his alarm. That was out too! Another black out? And then he could feel something.
Something moving under his bed. Oh, God. What was it?
No, stop it. It's probably just a kiwi or an oozelfinch. It's no big deal. And even if it is
something horrible that kills you -- you're Cannon Fodder! That's your power. To come back from
the dead! Go and check it!
But Cannon Fodder didn't move beyond pulling his sheets over his head. He didn't want to look
below and see that horrible thing that was underneath him. He didn't want to do it. There was
always one great fear that he would occasionally think about. What if he didn't come back? What
if this was his last life? And the more he imagined the awful creature that was squirming below
his bed the worse his fear got. And then he heard a voice.
"don't don't d-don't... please don't l-look! don't don't... please!!"
Wait. That voice. Was that..? Finally, Cannon Fodder took a deep breath and hopped out of his
bed into the darkness. He pulled the bed sheet right up. Oh God.
It was horrible and nightmarish. It was a shivering man in clown make up (think The Tim Curry
version of Stephen King's It) wearing a Freddy Krueger outfit clutching a flash light. "Coward
Lad? Is -- is that you?"
"Ohgodgod... don't want to do this! Namer Boy made me come here, Cannon F-Fodder!" And then it
all came back to Cannon Fodder. There was no stopping the Revampiric Bomb from blowing up because
it had already happened years ago. Two Thirds of everyone in Net.ropolis had died that day. The
rest had transformed into zombies, werewolves, revampires, ghosts, witches, ghouls, goblins, or in
Coward Lad's case a demonic bogeyman that could control people's nightmares. Like the Nightmare
that he was currently in.
"It's okay, Coward Lad. This is about the tape, right? You want to know where the tape is.
Here. Let me give you a..." said Cannon Fodder reaching to help Coward Lad get out from under
his bed.
"Nononono! Can't leave here. Everything too too too spooky! C-Can't..."
"Look, you don't want to stay under there. There's tons of spiders under..."
"Spiders?!!!!" screamed Coward Lad as he quickly rushed out from under Cannon Fodder's bed.
"Yeah, spiders," grinned Cannon Fodder slightly. "Don't worry. Just stick with me and I'll
protect you from all that." It was an absurd statement considering that of the two of them only
Coward Lad had the power to control nightmares. But it didn't matter since he was afraid of those
powers of his. He was afraid of everything
And they walked through this dream version of what was now The Headquarters. Not the Legion of
Net.Heroes Headquarters or even The Legion of Night Hellmasters Headquarters (as they decided to
call themselves for a week or so before they found that a bit too silly.) But it was now The
Headquarters -- and this version was very orderly. There were no vanishing rooms and hallways.
Everything was where it was supposed to be -- and where it would always be. And they walked to
the where The Throne Room was.
"Ohgod ohgod... it's," whispered Coward Lad hiding behind Cannon Fodder shakily pointing his
finger at the man that was sitting on a throne made of crystal skulls. The pale skinned man had a
crew cut hairstyle and was garbed in a military green tank top, some cammo pants, and some dog
tags hanging around his neck. And he also had a gun that he seemed to be staring at intently as
he brooded. Before The Bomb, he had been a man named Felix Landers -- second command of the LNH.
But The Bomb had changed him -- it had made him into a Revampire and one of the more powerful
Revampires. He was now the Leader of this new Legion. And he had a new name. He was now called
-- The Lord of Fear.
"Don't worry, it's not him. It's just some dream version of him. Look," Cannon Fodder pointed to
the crystal skull covered throne. "That's where it is. Under that thing that's where you'll find
the tape. Tell Namer Boy..."
"Ohgod... he's looking at us! He's..." said Coward Lad racing as quickly as possible out of the
room. And Cannon Fodder could feel The Lord of Fear gazing at him. But it didn't last for long.
The Lord of Fear went back to his gun. There was this sad look in his eyes.
Cannon Fodder walked back into the hallway and tried to see if Coward Lad was still around. But
Coward Lad was long gone. He continued to walk through the hallway. He wouldn't be waking up
from this dream. He knew that. He wasn't sleeping in some bed in the real world. No.
He walked towards a room that was being guarded by WikiSentinels. Once they had been an LNH'r by
the name of WikiBoy, but after the change he had split into a number of these faceless mechanical
monstrosities whose only purpose was to do whatever The Legion needed of them. And these two were
guarding a room. They ignored Cannon Fodder as he moved past them and entered the room. And
that's where he was now in the waking world. He looked at this hibernation pod type thing. He
could see his face through a blue tinted window. Various tubes and wires were attached to this
body to keep it alive in a forever coma. Strangely enough he looked almost at peace.
Almost.
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And the Lady looked into the mirror and she saw nothing. Why did she keep doing this every day?
It was as if she expected some miracle would happen and this long nightmare would finally be over
and it would all return back to the way it had been. But no. That wasn't going to happen. And
she looked at the mirror only seeing the beautiful room that she slept in. Her beautiful pale
white finger with its very beautiful obsidian black fingernail scrawled at the mirror as if to
provoke its non existent mirror doppelganger on the other side to show itself. But nothing.
Her skin seemed to be a pale white at first glance, but maybe it really was the tone of what ever
you really desired. As was the hair that dangled from her head -- was it blonde, red, black,
maybe a purple, or a blue -- or who knows -- maybe every color? Well, you know what color it was
when you saw it. And she wore a very magnificent tight black dress, but there were all these
tears all over it. But they just seemed to make it look even more lovely. But her face...
Before The Change. Before the Bomb. During that previous life where she had these powers and had
been a part of this team -- The Legion. Well, The Old Legion -- that had been one of the great
things about her powers. To just gaze into a mirror and see that beautiful perfect face. She
could have stared at that face for hours. But there was nothing now. Nothing at all. And maybe
it was just as well. Sure, everyone told her how beautiful she looked. They were always
complementing her. But maybe they were just afraid of her and didn't dare tell her the truth.
The truth of how hideous and ugly she really was. They couldn't tell her that she had the face of
a monster. A horrible monster. No. They couldn't tell her that. She was Lady Ripper --
although no one would ever dare call her that. No, she was just The Lady. And they were all
afraid of her. Very afraid.
She turned her head and walked towards a large window that gave a great view of The Headquarters
Courtyard and gazed at The Black Circle in the sky. Was it the Sun? The Moon? Hard to say
anymore. And surrounding it was a Crimson Sky. The sky made her feel hungry. No, you don't need
that. You already had your dinner. Just wait till tomorrow. She could see various demons
flapping around and occasionally disappearing into The Black Circle. She could hear the
werewolves howling at that Black Circle. She looked at the various zombies that were stumbling
around. They were hungry too. She closed the curtain and walked over to her dresser.
There was a secret compartment in the dresser for her various secrets. Various mementos of The
Old World were in it. She took out a photo. It was a picture of a very ordinary looking lady
next to a very ordinary guy. And a couple of very ordinary looking kids were also next to them.
And they all looked so happy. So very happy. But they were all dead now. The Bomb had killed
them all.
The lady in the photo had a name. Tara Shreds. For awhile she had been a villain, a traitor, and
maybe for a little bit -- a hero. But she abandoned all that to live the life of an ordinary
person. And she did do that and found some happiness from that. But it all ended too soon.
Lady Ripper felt so sad looking at this dead woman and her dead family. Sometimes she wished she
could cry a million tears. Or even just one. But she couldn't seem to be able to do that. Was
it because she was a monster and monsters couldn't cry? Maybe that was it.
She put the photo back and shut the secret compartment. Sometimes she wished for some great
Miracle that would wipe away this current world and return it to how it had been. She wanted that
so bad.
But there were no more Miracles left in this world. None.
The Last Holiday Miracle Pet had died years ago.
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Huck Dolluhrind groaned as he got up from the ratty mattress he had been sleeping on. He could
feel his 79 year old bones creaking. This wasn't how he had wanted to spend his Twilight Years.
He looked around at the foul smelling room he was currently occupying deep within the sewers of
Net.ropolis or The City as it was now called. Man, should be in Florida. Of course there
probably wasn't a Florida anymore. The room was pretty big -- must have been like a secret lair
for some villain long ago. But now it was the last refuge for what was left of The Opposition.
His team were all sleeping away. He could see the former Big Time Hollywood Actor Charlie "Hot
Shots! Part Deux!" Sheen now a shell of his former self. A number of needle marks decorated his
naked body. Amazing that he was still alive. And by his side was a very large Sabertooth that
they all called Binky. The bow tie he had around his neck was stained with all types of blood.
And there was some guy wearing a Namer Boy mask that he always wore. He never took it off. And
he had a chainsaw that he cradled in his arms like a lover. They all called him -- Mr. Chainsaw
Guy.
And that was it. That was what was left at least here. There was Coward Lad who could only exist
in peoples nightmares and Cannon Fodder who was in coma locked away somewhere in The Headquarters.
He had just gotten info from Coward Lad about The Tape. And that was probably the only useful
thing he was going to get from Coward Lad.
And when they woke up, he was going to have to tell them this crazy plan he had. This horrible,
horrible plan that was probably going to get them all killed -- because even 'if' it did work (and
that 'if' was a big one) it was very doubtful that any of them would be alive to see its fruition.
And did he need to do this? Maybe he could just slip out before they all woke up -- head off to
The Headquarters. He still had that Radish that Radish the Valentine's Day Miracle Beaver had
given to him. The Radish that allowed him to ace any job interview. Yeah, he could just betray
all of his teammates and join up with the Monsters that ruled the world and live happily ever
after. Huck sighed. No, he couldn't do that. Was it the Namerboyuhneeen that was stopping him?
Or maybe it was that Huck Dolluhrind part that just couldn't.
Or maybe it was what those bastards did FIN FANFIC FOOM. They didn't have do that. They really
fucking didn't. No, they needed to go down.
They ALL needed to go down.
And Huck watched his sleeping team start to wake. Almost time.
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There was a Van. And it was zooming through the streets of The City (and sometime -- well okay, a
lot of the times, the various sidewalks) doing doughnuts and occasionally running over the various
zombies that were foolish enough to be walking the streets (or sidewalks). The Van had these
screaming pink fluorescent lights flashing away on its top that even the blindest person couldn't
miss. On the side of the Van was a very colorful rainbowtacular Mount Rushmore-style mural (but
with Andy Warhol, John Travolta, Dan Rather and Meat Loaf as the various Presidents). And there
was occasionally a very loud honking blaring away from the Van as the driver slammed the horn with
great fury. Something that sounded a bit like the Car Horn version of Billy Ray Cyrus's 'Achy Breaky
Heart'. It was very loud.
On one of the rooftops The Lord of Fear was looking at all this with some powerful binoculars
(which honestly he probably didn't need -- I mean a blind person looking from the International
Space Station could probably easily spot where this Van was without any equipment to enhance that
person's sight. This Van was Very Easy to Discover. Very, Very Easy.)
He put the binoculars down with a grim expression. He didn't like this one bit.
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"And that's the plan." And there was a long silence after Huck Dolluhrind had explained his
incredibly insane ludicrous plan as if everyone was just trying to grasp at how terrible a plan it
was and the appropriate amount of heckling it deserved.
But finally the guy in the Namer Boy mask -- Mr. Chainsaw Guy spoke up, "I -- I don't think that's
going to work. That just seems like a really, really bad plan. Plus I can't drive a Van. I know
-- I look like someone who has great Van driving skills -- but I have never done it -- I tend to
be more the guy who's hanging on top of the Van. Don't even have a license. When it gets down to
it -- I have one thing that I'm really great at. Murdering horny college kids who are partying in
the woods with a chainsaw. Really great at that. Point me right at some horny college kids that
need to be murdered -- and I'm right there. Murdering them. But all this Van driving -- being a
distraction -- dying a some idiotic heroic death. I think I'm going to have to take a big pass on
this one. Sorry, guys."
"Fuck it," said Charlie Sheen as he took a giant swig from his Moono's Liquor World Exxxtra Proof
RotGut jug. "Time to Sheen or get off the pot! If you pussies are too chicken shit to do this --
then guess I'm going to have to do this one -- SOLO!"
"Oh dear -- did you just cast an aspersion on me? That I am some how a 'P-Word'?" If you could
have lifted the Namer Boy mask off of Mr. Chainsaw Guy's face -- you would've seen a very pained
and very hurt expression. "Very well, if my own Manhood is in question -- then I call SHOTGUN for
this very, very doomed mission of ours."
"Then I guess it's time," said Charlie Sheen with a wicked slash of his air guitar, "To Rock --
And Roll!!"
Binky slapped his head with a paw while shaking his head and then gave a disappointed sigh. Why
me?
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And the Easily-Discovered Van screeched to a halt. An incredibly naked Charlie Sheen bolted out
of the driver's side and took one last swig out of the contents of his Moono's Liquor World
Exxxtra Proof RotGut jug before throwing it to the road. And then he grabbed this big King-sized
pillow of cocaine, slashed it with a Bowie knife and then dumped the contents on the Van's hood.
"Is that...?" said a puzzled Lord of Fear as he watched all of this transpire.
"Charlie Sheen," said a pale lady next to him. Once she had been called Sister State-The-Obvious
or wReanna by those she was close with -- but now she was simply -- The Stater. "Big Hollywood
Actor in the Eighties. Wall Street. Platoon. Hot Shots! Part..."
"Yes, yes. I know that! I mean what's he doing?!"
Stater watched as Charlie Sheen put his head deep in that pile and began to snort it all up like a
vacuum cleaner. "I believe he's snorting all of that coke on his Van like a vacuum cleaner."
"Yes! I know that -- I can see that!! Why?! Why is he doing it!!?"
"I guess -- he has a very, very bad drug problem?" she said hoping that would be helpful.
The Lord of Fear sighed in a irritated manner. The silliness of it all was starting to creep its
way up here. Was that part of their plan? "Thank you, Stater. You're dismissed. Stahmpeurstein
-- Does he have powers -- besides the obvious superhuman drug taking ones!"
A (man?) looking at an electronic device glanced at the Lord of Fear as his name was mentioned.
This being had the face of a dead LNH'r by the name of Ferris Jones -- or the Deductive Logic Man.
But it was attached to a body that wasn't Deductive Logic Man's. The body was of another LNH'r.
Can-Handle-Any-Type-of-Change-Except-for-the-Ultimate-Ninja-Wearing-a-Cape Lad. And it had an arm
that had once belonged to Contraption Man. And the other arm -- by Organic Lass. And legs that had
this great burning desire to play the game Net.Trek because they had once belonged to Multi-Tasking
Man. And it wasn't Ferris Jones's brain that controlled all of these different stitched together
body parts. No. It was Dr. Stomper's brain -- or Dr. Stahmpeurstein as they now called themselves.
The Lord of Fear didn't want to know how all these different body parts of various dead LNH'rs had
all united. And he hoped he would never learn. "No, he seems to be a normal human. Shouldn't be
that hard to defeat."
"Well, let's be careful regardless," said The Lord of Fear watching Charlie Sheen snort every last
bit of coke that was on the Easily Discovered Van. "There's something -- I don't know. Wait till I
give the order."
And having snorted the last bit of cocaine, Charlie Sheen pumped his fists in the air in triumph and
let out a primal scream. "Okay, bitches. I'm HERE to snort cocaine and -- KICK -- ASS! And as all
of you can clearly see," he said gesturing toward a Van that didn't have a speck of cocaine still on
it (although there was still quite a bit of it dusting Charlie's face). "I'M ALL OUT OF COCAINE!!!
So, unless any of you gents have some more of the Nose Candygeddon for me to partake of -- guess I'm
just going to have to..."
Binky slapped his paw on his head as he cringed like he had never cringed before in the back of the
Van. Don't say it... Don't...
"Wait for it. Wait for..." said The Lord of Fear watching Charlie Sheen's face intently.
"KICK ALL OF YOUR FUCKING ASSES!!!!! YEAH, BITCHES! BRING IT ON!! THE NAME IS CHARLIE SHEEN AND
NOTHING CAN STOP ME!! NOTHING!!! I'M GOING TO LIVE -- FOREVER!!!!! YEAH!!! I'M GOING TO LIVE..."
And with that said a huge gigantic beam of Irony fell from the sky like a comet turning Charlie
Sheen into a red splatter on the pavement.
End of Part One
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.-'```^```'-.
/ /\ __ /\ \
| ^^ \/ ^^ |
\ \_.__._/ /
`'-.......-'`
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