Predator Press
[LOBO]
"I left you guys," says Ethan tersely, "on a teambuilding exercise. For two weeks. And you have burned my entire empire to the ground."
"There's always the rubble," I says.
"You burned the rubble down!"
"Well, you can't say I'm not thorough."
"Well, I really appreciate it," says Ethan. "Now Babs doesn't get shit."
"So you're okay with having lost $470,005,058.05 as long as Babs didn't get anything?"
"Oh yeah."
"So we're cool?"
"Shit, as soon as I get some money, I'm giving you a raise!"
"Well," I says. "It had better be substantial. You have no idea how traumatizing this has all been."
"We got a military contract," says Ethan. "$150,000,000,000. The first year."
"Ethan, I don't think I'm up for pissing off other countries anymore. Do you know it's a Class X felony for a woman to have sex with me in Australia now?"
"I told you Australia existed."
"I know. And now I want to have sex there in the worst way!"
"The last thing you need right now is another woman."
"Yeah," I concur, sighing. "Another vagina to feed."
"I need you, and your amazing media prowess on this project."
"Will there be cake?" I'm clapping my hands. "I love cake!"
Saturday
White Power
[LOBO]
Well, being in jail is by no means fun; nonetheless, when I found out I was in jail with Richard Gere, I was thrilled.
Richard Gere, star of such brutal fight scenes such as the ones in 'An Officer and a Gentleman' and 'Pretty Woman', was right the fuck here sharing a holding cell with me!
I immediately start talking trash.
Dice, Tic Tock, and Shiv weren’t too impressed at first, but when I told ‘em all they was 'so ugly they hadda fake orgasms while masturbating', they had a huddle.
Dice: “Yo man, these are either the dumbest white men on Earth, or maybe they’re just crazy.”
Tic Tock: “Yeah, dude just said Tom Wopat was the Antichrist. Who the fuck is Tom Wopat?”
Shiv: “Wasn’t that one cracker that dude in Pretty Woman?”
“That’s right!” I exclaim. “And if I give the word, Richard will pull your tongues through your keysters!” I stare at them crazily.
“What you dogs doin time for?” says Tic Tock.
“Tell ‘im Richard!” I says, all twitchy-like.
“I was at Christmas Mass and this guy and a hooker showed up. During the footage, I was holding hands with my wife.” Richard wipes away a tear. “They got the whole thing on film.”
“You know Richard,” I says facing a 6’6” tall angry guy twice my width, “I was hoping --as an artist—you could do better than that.”
“Better than getting arrested for the proliferation of phony ‘Fat Burning' Twinkies?”
Dice: “These niggas are fucked up.”
Tic Tock: “Just be cool.”
Shiv: “I’m tellin you, that cat was in Armageddon or something.”
Suddenly, a voice calls, “LOBO, you’ve made bail. Please exit to your left.”
“Well wow,” I says, grabbing Richard’s hand and shaking it heartily. “Good luck my friend.” I pause. "Can I have your autograph?"
Well, being in jail is by no means fun; nonetheless, when I found out I was in jail with Richard Gere, I was thrilled.
Richard Gere, star of such brutal fight scenes such as the ones in 'An Officer and a Gentleman' and 'Pretty Woman', was right the fuck here sharing a holding cell with me!
I immediately start talking trash.
Dice, Tic Tock, and Shiv weren’t too impressed at first, but when I told ‘em all they was 'so ugly they hadda fake orgasms while masturbating', they had a huddle.
Dice: “Yo man, these are either the dumbest white men on Earth, or maybe they’re just crazy.”
Tic Tock: “Yeah, dude just said Tom Wopat was the Antichrist. Who the fuck is Tom Wopat?”
Shiv: “Wasn’t that one cracker that dude in Pretty Woman?”
“That’s right!” I exclaim. “And if I give the word, Richard will pull your tongues through your keysters!” I stare at them crazily.
“What you dogs doin time for?” says Tic Tock.
“Tell ‘im Richard!” I says, all twitchy-like.
“I was at Christmas Mass and this guy and a hooker showed up. During the footage, I was holding hands with my wife.” Richard wipes away a tear. “They got the whole thing on film.”
“You know Richard,” I says facing a 6’6” tall angry guy twice my width, “I was hoping --as an artist—you could do better than that.”
“Better than getting arrested for the proliferation of phony ‘Fat Burning' Twinkies?”
Dice: “These niggas are fucked up.”
Tic Tock: “Just be cool.”
Shiv: “I’m tellin you, that cat was in Armageddon or something.”
Suddenly, a voice calls, “LOBO, you’ve made bail. Please exit to your left.”
“Well wow,” I says, grabbing Richard’s hand and shaking it heartily. “Good luck my friend.” I pause. "Can I have your autograph?"
Thursday
Viscosity
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
“You know,” I says, pushing my plate away. “I was a little disappointed with the fettuccini.”
“Really,” says Sapphire. “Am I supposed to think you are classy because you are pointing out flaws at something you invited me to?” she giggles. “I suppose you cook?”
“I’ll cut you a deal,” I says. “I’ll handle the macaroni and cheese. No matter what you decide to make, I’m doing the mac and cheese.”
“Oh thank God,” Sapphire laughs.
“Until we get married,” I add. “When we get married, you’ll be pretty fucked as far as pasta is concerned.”
"So then we'll eat, what, leaves and berries?"
"If you're lucky," I says frowning. "Look, I know your 'affiliation' with LOBO--"
"Well, it's funny that you mention that," she says. "Because LOBO needs to post Bail."
[Mr Insanity]
“You know,” I says, pushing my plate away. “I was a little disappointed with the fettuccini.”
“Really,” says Sapphire. “Am I supposed to think you are classy because you are pointing out flaws at something you invited me to?” she giggles. “I suppose you cook?”
“I’ll cut you a deal,” I says. “I’ll handle the macaroni and cheese. No matter what you decide to make, I’m doing the mac and cheese.”
“Oh thank God,” Sapphire laughs.
“Until we get married,” I add. “When we get married, you’ll be pretty fucked as far as pasta is concerned.”
"So then we'll eat, what, leaves and berries?"
"If you're lucky," I says frowning. "Look, I know your 'affiliation' with LOBO--"
"Well, it's funny that you mention that," she says. "Because LOBO needs to post Bail."
Tuesday
Perfectly Legal
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"I'm serious," I says. "I've got his contract right here!"
1) Don't be a Dick = 50%
Gilmore's Score: -50%
2) Never Say 'LOBO is Too Busy' for Free Meals = 21%
Gilmore's Score: 21%, + 6% bonus for timeliness
3) No Fat Chicks = 20%
Gilmore's Score: 20%
4) Never Kill Ethan = 9%
Gilmore's Score: -9%, + 6% bonus for timeliness
Net Total = Fuck Gilmore.
"It's all perfectly legal," I insist.
[LOBO]
"I'm serious," I says. "I've got his contract right here!"
1) Don't be a Dick = 50%
Gilmore's Score: -50%
2) Never Say 'LOBO is Too Busy' for Free Meals = 21%
Gilmore's Score: 21%, + 6% bonus for timeliness
3) No Fat Chicks = 20%
Gilmore's Score: 20%
4) Never Kill Ethan = 9%
Gilmore's Score: -9%, + 6% bonus for timeliness
Net Total = Fuck Gilmore.
Saturday
Scar Tissue
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
“Look,” says Gilmore, stuffing the bloody tissue against his nose. “I did the right thing. If, in fact, Babs has anything to do with this, somebody should have been ‘engaged’ in what is going on.”
“How do we know your loyalty isn’t with her?” says Sapphire.
Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight -I don't know- but the next thing out of my mouth was, “What the fuck do you know about loyalty?”
Sapphire's eyes flashed dangerously. “Excuse me?” she blinked.
“What was that disappearing act over Winter Break all about? I thought we were getting pretty tight. Then boom. You didn’t even send me a Christmas Card.”
“You took a hooker to Christmas Mass from what I heard.”
“Don't blame me if there's no 'Saving' her."
[Mr Insanity]
“Look,” says Gilmore, stuffing the bloody tissue against his nose. “I did the right thing. If, in fact, Babs has anything to do with this, somebody should have been ‘engaged’ in what is going on.”
“How do we know your loyalty isn’t with her?” says Sapphire.
Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight -I don't know- but the next thing out of my mouth was, “What the fuck do you know about loyalty?”
Sapphire's eyes flashed dangerously. “Excuse me?” she blinked.
“What was that disappearing act over Winter Break all about? I thought we were getting pretty tight. Then boom. You didn’t even send me a Christmas Card.”
“You took a hooker to Christmas Mass from what I heard.”
“Don't blame me if there's no 'Saving' her."
Friday
Black Flag
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Ethan disappearing isn’t really always that unusual; he’ll just up and go on a vacation or a business trip often without even packing.
But this is the first time he’s gone ten days without contacting anyone.
Making things worse is the glaring absence of Cobe; while that lazy fuck is off vacationing or whatever in the arctic, everything was beginning to fall apart without Ethan at the helm.
The sense of deterioration in the office was obvious and virtually palpable. Supplies were being ordered incorrectly –if in fact ordered at all. Bills were going unpaid. Deadlines were being missed. Things were so bad, when Babs asked me if I run the warehouse for a few days, I jumped at the chance.
The truth is I’m somewhat of a shipping and receiving prodigy. With a crew of 46 hard-scrabble industrial types, on a typical day we would receive about 26 semi trailers with materials and generally ship out about the same amount.
Now, under my radiant guidance, loads are brought into the north side of the building, processed, disseminated, recombined, and shipped out on trucks waiting on the south side just as usual. But now those trucks drive immediately back around to the north side, and the process is repeated.
But within only a few days, I have them doing triple the production. Hell, now I’m considering not letting the trucks stop here in the first place … just have the long line of semis circling the building clockwise. If they approve my on-site diesel refueling station, we’re talking nothing but round-the-clock efficiency.
***
Immediately after shuffling up the papers in Jimmy Orlando’s vacant office, I got the call instructing me –and all Predator Press executives—to meet at the banquet hall. My suspicions that it was a surprise party for me celebrating being named the Forbes Man of the Year were dispelled almost immediately upon arrival; already very late, I hurriedly snuck in and joined the table where Phoebe, Mr Insanity and Sapphire were already sitting even as Gilmore was addressing the podium.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending with such short notice. You’ll note that Jimmy Orlando will not be joining us today; his house mysteriously burned down yesterday, and I would like to extend my personal sympathies.”
“That’s horrible,” I says.
“Indeed,” says Gilmore, a little annoyed by the interruption. “I would also like to congratulate you all for having the highest circulation we’ve ever had this year. At this rate, we would most certainly have eventually turned a profit.”
“Would have?” Sapphire whispers.
“And as you all know, according to the Charter, Babs is the defacto CEO in Ethan’s absence. And since it’s been well over a week since Ethan was kidnapped, my may have to face the possibility that he may never return.”
“Who said anything about kidnapping?” whispered Mr Insanity.
“I’ll bet it’s Babs’ highly-developed maternal instinct,” I says.
Mr Insanity looked at me strangely. “Babs doesn’t have any kids.”
“God doesn’t give a woman breasts like that if He doesn’t intend for her to be a fantastic mother.”
“Well, while I find your logic rather fascinating,” Mr I says, “God didn’t give her those breasts. Doctor Helmsly did.”
Gilmore continued. “And as the Acting CEO of Predator Press, Babs has been forced to conclude that this business cannot continue without him. She has decided to close the doors and liquidate all the assets immediately.”
“English please,” I says. “We’re not all calculatrons you know.”
“None of you work here anymore,” says Gilmore.
“Oh thank God,” I says. “I’m freaking exhausted from all this getting up at 10 in the morning three or four days a week. And can you just mail me my paychecks? It’s a kinda long drive--”
“Perhaps,” says Gilmore, “I’m not being very clear.”
“Hey,” I says. “I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone when I ask you if there is there going to be food at this thing. I’m famished. Plus I’m tired … I had a very late night. And do you have any idea how hard it is getting a gasoline smell out of a ninja outfit? Let me tell you, it’s a big pain in the ass--”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Gilmore clearly into the microphone. “As of today, you’re all fired.”
“Who said anything about fire?” I says.
Suddenly, Mr Insanity’s hands are around Gilmore’s throat.
“You DICK!” he screamed.
Gilmore tried to squirm free, only further infuriating his assailant; Mr Insanity delivered three or four bone-crushing punches to his unprotected head before Sapphire could pull him off.
“Stop that Mr Insanity!” she demanded. “You’ll kill him before I get my turn!”
“We’re not killing him,” says Phoebe.
“What?”
“We’re not killing him,” she repeated. “We need him to find Babs, and we need Babs to find Ethan.”
Reluctantly, Mr Insanity relaxed. “You’re a fucking scumbag,” he says to Gilmore. “If it comes out that you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever met until there aren’t even memories of you anymore.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “You’re the second-worst 'Vice President of All Things LOBO' I’ve ever had!”
[LOBO]
Ethan disappearing isn’t really always that unusual; he’ll just up and go on a vacation or a business trip often without even packing.
But this is the first time he’s gone ten days without contacting anyone.
Making things worse is the glaring absence of Cobe; while that lazy fuck is off vacationing or whatever in the arctic, everything was beginning to fall apart without Ethan at the helm.
The sense of deterioration in the office was obvious and virtually palpable. Supplies were being ordered incorrectly –if in fact ordered at all. Bills were going unpaid. Deadlines were being missed. Things were so bad, when Babs asked me if I run the warehouse for a few days, I jumped at the chance.
The truth is I’m somewhat of a shipping and receiving prodigy. With a crew of 46 hard-scrabble industrial types, on a typical day we would receive about 26 semi trailers with materials and generally ship out about the same amount.
Now, under my radiant guidance, loads are brought into the north side of the building, processed, disseminated, recombined, and shipped out on trucks waiting on the south side just as usual. But now those trucks drive immediately back around to the north side, and the process is repeated.
But within only a few days, I have them doing triple the production. Hell, now I’m considering not letting the trucks stop here in the first place … just have the long line of semis circling the building clockwise. If they approve my on-site diesel refueling station, we’re talking nothing but round-the-clock efficiency.
Immediately after shuffling up the papers in Jimmy Orlando’s vacant office, I got the call instructing me –and all Predator Press executives—to meet at the banquet hall. My suspicions that it was a surprise party for me celebrating being named the Forbes Man of the Year were dispelled almost immediately upon arrival; already very late, I hurriedly snuck in and joined the table where Phoebe, Mr Insanity and Sapphire were already sitting even as Gilmore was addressing the podium.
“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending with such short notice. You’ll note that Jimmy Orlando will not be joining us today; his house mysteriously burned down yesterday, and I would like to extend my personal sympathies.”
“That’s horrible,” I says.
“Indeed,” says Gilmore, a little annoyed by the interruption. “I would also like to congratulate you all for having the highest circulation we’ve ever had this year. At this rate, we would most certainly have eventually turned a profit.”
“Would have?” Sapphire whispers.
“And as you all know, according to the Charter, Babs is the defacto CEO in Ethan’s absence. And since it’s been well over a week since Ethan was kidnapped, my may have to face the possibility that he may never return.”
“Who said anything about kidnapping?” whispered Mr Insanity.
“I’ll bet it’s Babs’ highly-developed maternal instinct,” I says.
Mr Insanity looked at me strangely. “Babs doesn’t have any kids.”
“God doesn’t give a woman breasts like that if He doesn’t intend for her to be a fantastic mother.”
“Well, while I find your logic rather fascinating,” Mr I says, “God didn’t give her those breasts. Doctor Helmsly did.”
Gilmore continued. “And as the Acting CEO of Predator Press, Babs has been forced to conclude that this business cannot continue without him. She has decided to close the doors and liquidate all the assets immediately.”
“English please,” I says. “We’re not all calculatrons you know.”
“None of you work here anymore,” says Gilmore.
“Oh thank God,” I says. “I’m freaking exhausted from all this getting up at 10 in the morning three or four days a week. And can you just mail me my paychecks? It’s a kinda long drive--”
“Perhaps,” says Gilmore, “I’m not being very clear.”
“Hey,” I says. “I’m sure I’m speaking for everyone when I ask you if there is there going to be food at this thing. I’m famished. Plus I’m tired … I had a very late night. And do you have any idea how hard it is getting a gasoline smell out of a ninja outfit? Let me tell you, it’s a big pain in the ass--”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says Gilmore clearly into the microphone. “As of today, you’re all fired.”
“Who said anything about fire?” I says.
Suddenly, Mr Insanity’s hands are around Gilmore’s throat.
“You DICK!” he screamed.
Gilmore tried to squirm free, only further infuriating his assailant; Mr Insanity delivered three or four bone-crushing punches to his unprotected head before Sapphire could pull him off.
“Stop that Mr Insanity!” she demanded. “You’ll kill him before I get my turn!”
“We’re not killing him,” says Phoebe.
“What?”
“We’re not killing him,” she repeated. “We need him to find Babs, and we need Babs to find Ethan.”
Reluctantly, Mr Insanity relaxed. “You’re a fucking scumbag,” he says to Gilmore. “If it comes out that you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever met until there aren’t even memories of you anymore.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “You’re the second-worst 'Vice President of All Things LOBO' I’ve ever had!”
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