Predator Press
[LOBO]
"Okay," I says to the Ghost of Christmas Past. "Now you're going to give me shit too?"
"Look," he points out. "The 'Ghost of Christmas Past' wasn't in Hamlet. And why the hell would I try and give everyone the Christmas Spirit in June? I'm supposed to be in the Bahamas!"
"That's why he picks you up in the stealth bomber right before the duel with Hitler's Robotanks," I says, losing patience. "You know, why don't you try doing a little homework first, lil miss 'Negative Nancy'? It's all right there in my first draft."
"Sir?" a shrill voice yells up to the window. "Sir, are you there?"
I flip open the shutters, and look six stories down onto the sidewalk. "See?" I says.
"It's Tiny Tim," scowls the ghost, perplexed. "What is he doing here?"
"This is the part when the crippled poor kid mooches a Christmas turkey off of newly-redeemed Hamden-"
"Hamlet," the ghost corrects. "And the character you are referring to is actually Ebenezer Scrooge."
"Hang on there boy!" I yell out the window. "Ebenezer Scrooge wasn't in 'Hamlet' dumbass," I says, turning to the ghost. "And Predator Press isn't about 'accuracy'. It's about making sure that the moral of the story is conveyed intact." I lean down into my deep-freezer, and produce a 70-pound frozen turkey. "Wow," I grunt. "This thing must have been a damn Pterodactyl!"
"Hurry sir," Tiny Tim calls faintly. "I'm getting weak from malnutrition, and I think one of my crutches is about to break!"
"I'm coming you impatient little shit! Now shut the fuck up before you piss off my neighbors! I'm busy." Struggling with the slippery turkey, I set it on the edge of the freezer. "I'll bet that little prick is going to be a real pain in the ass once Hitler turns him into a nuclear cyborg."
"So what exactly is the moral in Shakespeare's Hamlet?" the ghost asks.
"See, Omelet-"
"Hamlet."
"Would you stop interrupting me when I'm trying to answer your questions?"
"Sorry."
"Help me get this thing up on the windowsill, okay? In this adaptation, Hansel, the main character, is deeply-wounded mostly because his sister Gretel is in love with his mother Ediplex. Plus she's like this really messy eater ... every time they have a picnic, there's like breadcrumbs all over the place. This pisses off the cops, and gets them fined like a million dollars by the EPA."
"You've never even read Hamlet, have you?"
"Sure I have," I reply.
"Is that it, sir?" calls up the boy excitedly.
"You betcher bony crippled ass it is, Rick!" I yell down. "Are you ready?"
"Yes sir!" cries Tiny Tim, arms outstretched.
"Wait," says the ghost. "You're not going to-"
"Here goes!" I cry, pushing the turkey smoothly over. "Four seconds remaining in the game, and Green Bay is up by four; LOBO sees an open man in the End Zone--!"
"I got it!" cries Tim. "I got i-!"
Suddenly, there's this thick, wet thud.
"It's complete!" I cry, shooting my arms up in the air. "Home run! LOBO wins it! The crowd goes wild!" Shaking my fist in celebration, I jog victoriously in a little circle while simulating a raspy crowd noise in my throat. "In your face, Brett Favre!"
"You killed him!" cries the ghost from the window.
"What? Nah. Look." I says, pointing at a twitching shoe surrounded by a growing pool of blood. "He's still moving. He's fine. Stuff like this builds much-needed character in today's uncultivated youth."
"Well he's leaking 'character' all over the place," says the ghost.
"Hey, along with all that great parking, a little rain must fall. And sometimes that rain comes in the form of big gigantic frozen turkeys. Is it my fault this place isn't wheelchair accessible? You heard him: he had crappy crutches; this was bound to happen eventually."
"So you're saying a 70-pound frozen turkey falling six stories on a crippled, starving boy was most likely inevitable."
"No, I suggested potato salad, or maybe coleslaw. The turkey was his idea."
"So you're merely the medium through which the 'Hand of Destiny' works?"
"Yep. Act of God. This happens all the time around the North Pole. You're just walking around minding your own business, you know, building igloos and clubbing baby sea lions, and suddenly a flock of indigenous turkeys succumb to hypothermia while flying overhead. Then wham. It's all over. Entire villages are wiped out. It's tragic."
"And this relates to Hamlet how, exactly?"
"Who?"
Monday
Sunday
Spamlet: Act I
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Okay, fine. I was supposed to relieve Max, Brighta and Vetter from guard duty at six in the morning.
Wednesday.
But when I showed up Friday night, those stinky fucks were all sleeping!
"Wake up you lazy bastards!" I says, kicking them.
"LOBO," exclaims Brighta. "Oh please God tell me you brought food--!"
"Yes Brighta," I says. "We will have many talks and committee meetings over your obviously deficient work ethic, your inability to score any action beyond 'Butter-Faces' in bars, and your overall bitchy attitude towards guard duty in the future. But enough about your passive-aggressiveness due to latent homosexuality!" I turn on my holographic belt buckle. "Predator Press is bring robbed."
They stare in amazement at the beamed images.
"Wow," says Max. "That's really cool."
"It was $11.99 at a Best Buy in Dallas," I says. "But I think I got the last one."
"Is it that guy behind Cobe?" asks Brighta, pointing at a holographic Cobe walking fast as a jogger overtakes him.
"No," says Max. "It is Cobe."
"No fuckin way!" says Brighta.
"Yes Brighta," Max says calmly. "Look behind his left ear."
"It's a pencil," says Brighta, squinting. "Is it some special 'Secret Project' pencil?"
"No," I interrupt. "It was a goddamned authentic Predator Press #2 pencil, and it came right out of this here box." I flip it open. "See? There's only four left."
Brighta stares.
"Four," I demand, "out of a box of ten?"
"Watch," says Max.
Cobe walks right past his own luxury car, and opens the twin doors of a 53' semi trailer.
Like 10,000 #2 pencils spill into the road.
"I ask you," I says, staring at Max. "How exactly am I supposed to get Nelson Mandela to testify for Paris's release with this going on?"
"Well," says Max, "Don't let him fucking shop at Best Buy, for one."
[LOBO]
Okay, fine. I was supposed to relieve Max, Brighta and Vetter from guard duty at six in the morning.
Wednesday.
But when I showed up Friday night, those stinky fucks were all sleeping!
"Wake up you lazy bastards!" I says, kicking them.
"LOBO," exclaims Brighta. "Oh please God tell me you brought food--!"
"Yes Brighta," I says. "We will have many talks and committee meetings over your obviously deficient work ethic, your inability to score any action beyond 'Butter-Faces' in bars, and your overall bitchy attitude towards guard duty in the future. But enough about your passive-aggressiveness due to latent homosexuality!" I turn on my holographic belt buckle. "Predator Press is bring robbed."
They stare in amazement at the beamed images.
"Wow," says Max. "That's really cool."
"It was $11.99 at a Best Buy in Dallas," I says. "But I think I got the last one."
"Is it that guy behind Cobe?" asks Brighta, pointing at a holographic Cobe walking fast as a jogger overtakes him.
"No," says Max. "It is Cobe."
"No fuckin way!" says Brighta.
"Yes Brighta," Max says calmly. "Look behind his left ear."
"It's a pencil," says Brighta, squinting. "Is it some special 'Secret Project' pencil?"
"No," I interrupt. "It was a goddamned authentic Predator Press #2 pencil, and it came right out of this here box." I flip it open. "See? There's only four left."
Brighta stares.
"Four," I demand, "out of a box of ten?"
"Watch," says Max.
Cobe walks right past his own luxury car, and opens the twin doors of a 53' semi trailer.
Like 10,000 #2 pencils spill into the road.
"I ask you," I says, staring at Max. "How exactly am I supposed to get Nelson Mandela to testify for Paris's release with this going on?"
"Well," says Max, "Don't let him fucking shop at Best Buy, for one."
Wednesday
With Malice of Thought
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"Let me get this straight," says Nurse Garrison, looking out at me over her glasses. "Lindsay Lohan lopped your arm off?"
"Check," I says.
"You realize that your insurance doesn't cover prosthetics."
"I thought you said we had Mr Insanity frozen in a block of carbonite."
"I did," says Nurse Garrison.
"Well, I don't really see him signing anything soon, do you?"
"You're a monster," she replies.
"Fuck off!" I says.
I hate HMOs.
Tuesday
Jedi Woodshed
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"LOBO," says Lindsay Lohan, extending her lightsaber. "You are plotting to use drugs to fund an intergalactic Empire, and thus have fallen to the Dark Side."
"Yeah, so?" I says. "What about the 'Grateful Dead'? And Pfizer? And Twinkies for that matter?"
"You may have beaten my Time-Traveling Ninja Bodyguards," she continues, "but I emailed George Lucas today; when he finds out about all these copyright infringements, he's gonna sue you down to your socks!" She rubs her thumb across her fingertips, and then blows on them. "Predator Press is finished."
"WHORE!" I scream, viciously swinging my, uh, 'lit up, pointy-stick' ...
[LOBO]
"LOBO," says Lindsay Lohan, extending her lightsaber. "You are plotting to use drugs to fund an intergalactic Empire, and thus have fallen to the Dark Side."
"Yeah, so?" I says. "What about the 'Grateful Dead'? And Pfizer? And Twinkies for that matter?"
"You may have beaten my Time-Traveling Ninja Bodyguards," she continues, "but I emailed George Lucas today; when he finds out about all these copyright infringements, he's gonna sue you down to your socks!" She rubs her thumb across her fingertips, and then blows on them. "Predator Press is finished."
"WHORE!" I scream, viciously swinging my, uh, 'lit up, pointy-stick' ...
Sunday
Rock Bottom
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"What happened?" says me.
"I gave the FDA a sample of OxyCaine," says Ethan. "Two hours later, the FDA headquarters burned to the ground."
"Who's the guy in the cage?"
"That's Andrew C. von Eschenbach, M.D.," says Ethan. "The head of the FDA."
Andrew C. von Eschenbach, M.D., wearing nothing except a tie and an argyle sock on his left foot, reckognizes his name and peers out hopefully.
"Yech," says Ethan. "Make him put on some underwear before he pokes someone's eye out."
I reach into the cage, and scratch behind his ear. "He doesn't seem so bad."
"Well," says Ethan, "without his approval, we can't sell this crap."
"Who's a good boy?" I says in my puppy voice while scratching Andy's neck. "Why you are!" I says. I hold up some pills by his nose. "Iszoo gonna 'prove Ethan's feely-good pills?"
Drooling sloppily, Andy nodded an effusive yes.
"I gotta tell you Ethan," I says, tossing the pills into the corner of the cage as Andy bounded after them. "I don't think this is as complicated as you do."
[LOBO]
"What happened?" says me.
"I gave the FDA a sample of OxyCaine," says Ethan. "Two hours later, the FDA headquarters burned to the ground."
"Who's the guy in the cage?"
"That's Andrew C. von Eschenbach, M.D.," says Ethan. "The head of the FDA."
Andrew C. von Eschenbach, M.D., wearing nothing except a tie and an argyle sock on his left foot, reckognizes his name and peers out hopefully.
"Yech," says Ethan. "Make him put on some underwear before he pokes someone's eye out."
I reach into the cage, and scratch behind his ear. "He doesn't seem so bad."
"Well," says Ethan, "without his approval, we can't sell this crap."
"Who's a good boy?" I says in my puppy voice while scratching Andy's neck. "Why you are!" I says. I hold up some pills by his nose. "Iszoo gonna 'prove Ethan's feely-good pills?"
Drooling sloppily, Andy nodded an effusive yes.
"I gotta tell you Ethan," I says, tossing the pills into the corner of the cage as Andy bounded after them. "I don't think this is as complicated as you do."
Saturday
This is Your Brain on Drugs and Ruining My Carpet
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
“Is it addictive?” asks the President of the Food and Drug Administration over the speaker.
“Not at all,” replies Ethan. “OxyCaine lodges itself in the pleasure center of the brain and, eh, 'improves the efficiency the circuitry’ if you will, on a completely permanent basis. Who would want to increase dosage for that?”
“Are there any side effects?”.
“No, no,” Ethan says into the speakerphone. “Other than feeling and acting like a pretentious ass all the time, an intense enormous 24-7 erection and losing ten pounds a month like it or not, there are no side effects whatsoever.”
There’s a brief silence.
Then finally, “Um, can I get some samples before I make my decision?”
[Mr Insanity]
“Is it addictive?” asks the President of the Food and Drug Administration over the speaker.
“Not at all,” replies Ethan. “OxyCaine lodges itself in the pleasure center of the brain and, eh, 'improves the efficiency the circuitry’ if you will, on a completely permanent basis. Who would want to increase dosage for that?”
“Are there any side effects?”.
“No, no,” Ethan says into the speakerphone. “Other than feeling and acting like a pretentious ass all the time, an intense enormous 24-7 erection and losing ten pounds a month like it or not, there are no side effects whatsoever.”
There’s a brief silence.
Then finally, “Um, can I get some samples before I make my decision?”
Predator Press Interviews: Sheriff Lee Baca
Predator Press
LOBO: So you're the heroic cop that vainly tried to free our beloved Princess?
Baca: No, I'm not.
LOBO: You're not Sheriff Lee Baca?
Baca: Uh-uh.
LOBO: Hm. That's weird. You do look familiar though. Hey, aren't you that shaved Wookie that sold me that crappy Timeshare on Kashyyyk?
Baca: Nope. But for your information, throughout history the Timeshare has repeatedly demonstrated startling gains in equity.
LOBO: It was on a volcano.
Baca: I'll bet the view was spectacular.
LOBO: I hadda flush the toilet water every thirty minutes to keep it from boiling.
Baca: Look, I'm a Sheriff in Los Angeles. I can't just drop everything and fly to Kashyyyk every time a tenant has a plumbing issue.
LOBO: I thought you said you weren't Sheriff Lee Baca.
Baca: No I didn't.
LOBO: Ever heard of OxyCaine?
Baca: Nope. And it's absolutely legal to sell it to kids until I do.
LOBO: So what motivated you to free Paris?
Baca: I thought she was hot.
LOBO: So Sheriff, you're admitting on Predator Press that you that tend to pull people over in an effort to get dates?
Baca: Why are you calling me Sheriff?
LOBO: Ah, hm. Well, you got any interests or hobbies?
Baca: Well, I do occasionally umpire for Little League baseball. It's in my contract with Gillette.
LOBO: So you're the heroic cop that vainly tried to free our beloved Princess?Baca: No, I'm not.
LOBO: You're not Sheriff Lee Baca?
Baca: Uh-uh.
LOBO: Hm. That's weird. You do look familiar though. Hey, aren't you that shaved Wookie that sold me that crappy Timeshare on Kashyyyk?
Baca: Nope. But for your information, throughout history the Timeshare has repeatedly demonstrated startling gains in equity.
LOBO: It was on a volcano.
Baca: I'll bet the view was spectacular.
LOBO: I hadda flush the toilet water every thirty minutes to keep it from boiling.
Baca: Look, I'm a Sheriff in Los Angeles. I can't just drop everything and fly to Kashyyyk every time a tenant has a plumbing issue.
LOBO: I thought you said you weren't Sheriff Lee Baca.
Baca: No I didn't.
LOBO: Ever heard of OxyCaine?
Baca: Nope. And it's absolutely legal to sell it to kids until I do.
LOBO: So what motivated you to free Paris?
Baca: I thought she was hot.
LOBO: So Sheriff, you're admitting on Predator Press that you that tend to pull people over in an effort to get dates?
Baca: Why are you calling me Sheriff?
LOBO: Ah, hm. Well, you got any interests or hobbies?
Baca: Well, I do occasionally umpire for Little League baseball. It's in my contract with Gillette.
Friday
My God
Predator Press
[LOBO]
What are you people, savages?
Just look at this poor woman, America's Princess, weeping and screaming as they illegally haul her to jail once again.
I must say I am shocked and appalled.
After all she's been through, it's right back into 'The Clink'? While scrawling out her own adorable little version of Mein Kampf, she will most certainly waste away like a petite flower denied sunshine and water! When I heard her pleading to her mother 'It's not right!', my heart just broke.
Speaking of Paris' mom, I can only imagine how awful this must be to endure. If it will at all ease her suffering, I'm publicly offering myself up for adoption to her for the duration. Nothing weird -I'm not wearing Paris' clothes or anything-but if Paris' mom needs the companionship provided by your offspring laying siege upon your refrigerator and always trying to borrow money, it seems the least I can do for a couple of weeks.
And think about it for a second: Paris will come out with an older brother to look up to!
We're with you, Paris' mom!
[LOBO]
What are you people, savages?Just look at this poor woman, America's Princess, weeping and screaming as they illegally haul her to jail once again.
I must say I am shocked and appalled.
After all she's been through, it's right back into 'The Clink'? While scrawling out her own adorable little version of Mein Kampf, she will most certainly waste away like a petite flower denied sunshine and water! When I heard her pleading to her mother 'It's not right!', my heart just broke.
Speaking of Paris' mom, I can only imagine how awful this must be to endure. If it will at all ease her suffering, I'm publicly offering myself up for adoption to her for the duration. Nothing weird -I'm not wearing Paris' clothes or anything-but if Paris' mom needs the companionship provided by your offspring laying siege upon your refrigerator and always trying to borrow money, it seems the least I can do for a couple of weeks.
And think about it for a second: Paris will come out with an older brother to look up to!
We're with you, Paris' mom!
OxyCaine
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
"For the last time," says Ethan. "Were not moving the entire operation to Los Angeles. Have you any idea how expensive this would all be in California?"
"You are suffering from hopelessly antiquated thinking in this regard," says LOBO.
"Excuse me? Just yesterday, you were calling for open revolt!"
"I've changed my mind. If being too pretty, too famous, too rich, or too whiney counts as a legal defense, I'm all for it. Hell, I've got a whine that'll rip through your cerebral cortex like a pickaxe. Want to hear it?"
"Not particularly."
"Ethan, just think of all the money we would save in lawyer fees when we load up our cars with drugs and crash them repeatedly under the influence and without a license. That's the kind of selective enforcement that we need."
"But none of us do drugs!"
"Maybe that's a problem too," LOBO retorts. "Everyone who's anyone is doing drugs now. America has embraced it. It's very 'Chique'. We need to 'get with the times' so to speak."
"So you think we'll all be better off if we start doing cocaine."
"Cocaine," guffaws LOBO. "Cocaine is so passé only criminals use it anymore. I'm talking OxyContin, Ritalin, and Viagra."
"I can't believe you're s-"
"Wait!" LOBO interrupts. "What if we create 'Oxy-Caine'? Now that's a party."
"Lobo," says Ethan. "You've sunken to an all-new low. Get the hell out of my office."
"I'm just saying-"
"Out!"
LOBO, rolling his eyes, closed the office door quietly behind him as he left.
"Idiot," breathed Ethan aloud into his empty office. Then he pressed the button on his intercom.
"Phoebe?"
"Yes, Ethan," she replied.
"Is lobo gone?"
"Yes Ethan."
"Get me someone from Phizer Research and Development on the phone."
[Mr Insanity]
"For the last time," says Ethan. "Were not moving the entire operation to Los Angeles. Have you any idea how expensive this would all be in California?"
"You are suffering from hopelessly antiquated thinking in this regard," says LOBO.
"Excuse me? Just yesterday, you were calling for open revolt!"
"I've changed my mind. If being too pretty, too famous, too rich, or too whiney counts as a legal defense, I'm all for it. Hell, I've got a whine that'll rip through your cerebral cortex like a pickaxe. Want to hear it?"
"Not particularly."
"Ethan, just think of all the money we would save in lawyer fees when we load up our cars with drugs and crash them repeatedly under the influence and without a license. That's the kind of selective enforcement that we need."
"But none of us do drugs!"
"Maybe that's a problem too," LOBO retorts. "Everyone who's anyone is doing drugs now. America has embraced it. It's very 'Chique'. We need to 'get with the times' so to speak."
"So you think we'll all be better off if we start doing cocaine."
"Cocaine," guffaws LOBO. "Cocaine is so passé only criminals use it anymore. I'm talking OxyContin, Ritalin, and Viagra."
"I can't believe you're s-"
"Wait!" LOBO interrupts. "What if we create 'Oxy-Caine'? Now that's a party."
"Lobo," says Ethan. "You've sunken to an all-new low. Get the hell out of my office."
"I'm just saying-"
"Out!"
LOBO, rolling his eyes, closed the office door quietly behind him as he left.
"Idiot," breathed Ethan aloud into his empty office. Then he pressed the button on his intercom.
"Phoebe?"
"Yes, Ethan," she replied.
"Is lobo gone?"
"Yes Ethan."
"Get me someone from Phizer Research and Development on the phone."
Thursday
No, You WON'T "Be Back"
Predator Press
Before ousting every last member of autocrat
swill from the empire we built, blow 'em a kiss:
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger
State Capitol Building
Sacramento, CA 95814
Phone: 916-445-2841
Fax: 916-445-4633
To send an Email please visit:
http://www.govmail.ca.gov
ALSO
Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department Contact List
Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department
"Compliments, Complaints": (323) 526-5541
swill from the empire we built, blow 'em a kiss:
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger
State Capitol Building
Sacramento, CA 95814
Phone: 916-445-2841
Fax: 916-445-4633
To send an Email please visit:
http://www.govmail.ca.gov
ALSO
Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department Contact List
Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department
"Compliments, Complaints": (323) 526-5541
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