Flaming fruity flamenco free-for-all, my vivacious visitors! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I bet y’all been wonderin’ what happened, but don’t worry, we’re all still alive and well (for a given definition of “well,” that is. Tasky’s at least stopped tryin’ to chug the Windex). Of all the weird places I coulda been for the last month, I bet you’ll never guess where I actually was. So I’ll tell ya! England!
Yeah, really. Sandi’s got some major crush on this wacky writer dude who thinks the world is magical and flat, and she made me go all the way to England with her so she could hear him talk about wizzards or some crazy &($#. Also I think there were turtles involved. I dunno – I don’t read. Well, except for Playboy. And Maxim. And…hey, you know, I guess I read a lot, actually. They got some good articles in there.
Anyway, Sandi got to interview that feeb, so now she’s all happy and giggly and crap. Me, I’m happy ‘cause we managed to actually do a job in between all the dodging-crazy-mooks-in-wacko-costumes. Which is why we could afford to go to England in the first place. Too bad I can’t tell you what it was, but I can say it involved a certain footballer’s wife who loves Karl Lagerfeld. Oh, @*&@. Did I say that out loud? I don’t think I was really s’pposed to say that either.
It paid real well, though, I can tell ya that, so after Sandi was done fainting or hyperventilating or whatever, we went sightseeing in big ol’ Londontown for awhile. Don’t worry, though, it was very tame – I didn’t impale anyone on the hands of Big Ben or nothin’. Even when it took us, like, 100 years to find The Geek Store so I could buy me some Star Wars doll heads. “It’s near Piccadilly Circus,” my ASS.
We left Outlaw and her whiny boyfriend in charge of the Agency while we were out, though, and whoo-boy, can I tell you, that was a BIG mistake. Got back yesterday to find Whiny Boyfriend had “redecorated” while we were out. The whole place was freakin’ Greek columns and pictures of half-naked dudes in togas (I suspect Outlaw suggested that part, but then, I also suspect WB didn’t mind too much – no man who takes that much care of his hair ain’t a bit fruity). Stupid WB said it “reminded me of home.” That big whiny mama’s boy. Loki would be so ashamed. Anyway, just got the place back in some kinda order (and threw WB in the closet to think about his bad taste – but I guess we’ll let him out one’a these days if he asks real nice), so now I am so totally ready to…answer some questions! Yeah, I know you feebs are thrilled. So, sorting through the random London postcards and socks with British flags on ‘em that Sandi bought for no reason whatsoever…ah-ha! Here’s a letter!
1) Have you ever considered starring in a videogame with Kirby… like Super Smash Bros. for instance?
2) If you had ten minutes to talk to any person on any subject and get truthful answers, who would it be and what subject? Person may be alive or dead.
Seriously, it’s a lot of fun to hang around here. Hope you are doing well. I’ve got to go do a few more edits to some correspondence that’s got to get out of my office, so I’ll see you around!
All the best, Lady_of_Mists
Ooh, numbered questions! OOH.
1) Well, Lady, you know I’m the best there is at whatever it is Wolverine does, but I gotta tell ya, Kirby scares the ever-wise-crackin’ daylights outta everyone I know, even me. You know why? WELL, I’LL TELL YA WHY: it’s cause he’s tricky. Yep, tricky like a Sunday whore turnin’ tricks on the corner’a Broad and Maple.
See, li’l pink dude looks like a helium-inflated marshmallow with big, round, innocent doe eyes (for serious – those things are like a cuteness overload – I mean, even Toby Maguire can’t match Kirby’s lethal levels of Cute) but just when you’re least expecting it, he turns into a big weight or some %#*# and falls on your head! BAM! Also he’s pink, and you can’t tell me that’s by accident. I mean, everyone knows it’s the ones that dress in pink and purple that’ll sit around lookin’ like they ain’t got nothin’ and then turn on you in a second and do somethin’ crazy, like whack you with a $*&@~# wooden mallet. And don’t even get me started on the whole ‘swallowing people’ thing. Once was more than enough for me, thanks.
So I gotta say, if I was ever in a game with the the li’l pink Stay-Puft, I’d wanna be on his side. A’course, he is dimmer than an energy-savin’ lightbulb outside on a sunny day; I mean, I’ve met the dude, and he couldn’t find his way outta a wet paper bag without big green neon signs blaring “THIS WAY OUT!” (and even then it’s iffy) but that don’t seem to affect his fighting none – he just bounces around like a chinchilla on Ritalin and hits everything in sight. So, yeah – I’d pick him first in dodgeball, I can tell ya that. The other team’d be wettin’ their Spider-man Underoos before you could even say ‘Play ball.’
2) Ten minutes, huh? I guess we’d have to talk real fast, but I got practice in the talking department. And truthful answers? Oh, this one’s easy. DICK CHENEY. And politics. I mean, could you imagine what that feeb would come out with if he had ta tell the truth about that crap for ten minutes? No bull#@%$, no wacky “well-maybe-I-did-maybe-the-sky-is-really-green-you-never-know-hey-look-over-there” evasive maneuvers, just tellin’ it like it is? Man, it’d be hilarious. And I know you’re wonderin’, “wait, why didn’t the Pool-man say ‘Bush,’ then?” But we all know that mook don’t got nothin’. We all know where it’s really at.
Now, if you’d just give me another coupla choices, we could get Barack Barack Barack Barack and that lame-o McCain to say what they’re really thinkin’, too. And maybe even the book-burnin’ governor of snowdrifts! Can you imagine that? The most honest election in history! …Yeah, I know, that’s a concept so alien that only my wacky brain could ever come up with it. And that’s why I’m the best guy ever.
Now, on to the next…oh, hang on. Sandi wants me to help her with something. BRB!
Well that was weird. Sandi signed up for some drawing class or something t’other day, and she just asked me to stand on one’a WB’s little Greek pedestals for about an hour with nothin’ on so she could “get her anatomy right.” I mean, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her anatomy, if ya know what I mean; but I can’t figure why she wanted to see mine for so long. Only the really kinky girls ever want that. You know, the ones that get off on scars and &*^$. Also she didn’t seem to be usin’ the pencils that much. Hm.
Anyway, back to the letters!
Here’s a new question for ya.
Since you love numbered questions so much, here ya go …
1. Have you ever thought about writing up a guide for newbie mercenaries? Sort of like the Evil Overlord List.
2. Which is your favorite Evil Overlord rule?
Have fun screwing with Cap’s head!
Man, this one’s an oldie – sorry it took me so long to get back here that the good wishes on the Cap job ain’t even topical anymore. I promise to do better next time. Well, at least until I get distracted by–
–oh, sorry about that. Now what was I…oh yeah. Questions.
AND NUMBERED ONES, AT THAT. YAY!
1. Ya know, the thought has occurred to me, followed quickly by the more important thought: “Would I get paid for it?” ‘Cause if not, what is the point? But maybe, just maybe for you I’ll throw something together one’a these days.
2. #100, of course. You could use this one on most of the known world and never even have to deal with any feebs ‘fomenting rebellion’ ‘cause they’d all be too busy readin’ someone’s exciting Q&A blog! Although all the rules are pretty darn canny, actually. (Isn’t ‘canny’ a fun word? I could say over and over again forever (Serious. Try it sometime. It’s mega-fun.)). This guy really knows his stuff. Huh. Maybe I should go TAKE. HIM. OUT.
…Oh, whoops! Sandi just yelled out that she “didn’t get my nose quite right” so I gotta go take off the spandex again.
Until next time, keep ‘em piled and primed!