Hijacking the OC

Predator Press

[LOBO]

No, I don't mean the one on television.

I mean the good one.

I once hijacked The Ominous Comma.

There's no need to thank me.

See Brent and I go way back. We've been trying to wipe one another out since the dawn of time; indeed, our epic battles often make "Star Wars" look like kids scuffling over a sandbox.

In fact, that's how it all started now that I think about it ... I was innocently eating ice cream one day, and Brent came over and knocked it down into the sandbox.

"Why'd you do that?" I sobbed.

Brent said, "Cuz you got cooties, cootie-face!"

Furious, I screamed and cried like a sissy until the adults came and made Brent stick his nose in the corner for the rest of the day. And then I laughed and laughed and laughed.

-Man I miss High School sometimes.

Despite his overt hostility and aggression towards me, I have made numerous efforts to be friends.

I've stuck up for him.

I've looked out for him.

Like the time when Brent was getting those phone calls and contracts from some guy suspiciously named "Aaron Spelling". This dude was supposedly some big shot Hollywood stiff that was looking to cast Brent in some TV series called "Melrose Street" or something. But he wasn't even trying to be convincing: the dollar figure this obvious fraud was offering Brent was so long it had to be a made up number. I doubt you could have even fit it on a check!

Like some jerk that doesn't even know how to spell "Aron" would be put in charge of anything!

Pthbbt!

It was obviously a cruel joke.

Brent is exactly the kind of trusting and sensitive soul that would've flown out to Hollywood and get his heart broken by this "Spelling" hoax: I must have thrown dozens of letters and plane tickets away.

I finally ended up impersonating Brent on the phone and telling that stalker phony, "If I ever hear from you again, I'll freeze your ass with liquid nitrogen. Then you can watch as I chip small pieces off of your bloated carcass, and dance barefoot in your melted slush!"

So yeah. Ever since then, Brent and I been tryin to squish each other through fine mesh screens.

It's all in good fun really.

Like the time I was in Intensive Care, and he switched my chart with Rex Grossman football plays and poured the bedpan into my IV. Or when I kidnapped his dog 'Buttons', and left it at Michael Vick's place all covered in Barbeque sauce.

Ah, good times Brent.

Good times.