Predator Press
[LOBO]
"Alright Newt," I says. "Lets go over this scene once more."
"I'm standing right here," says Newt. "I don't think you need the megaphone."
"Look Newt," I says frustrated. "This ain't Capitol Hill. I handle all the censorship around here. Now in this scene, you jump off of the fourth story, somersault gracefully to the ground by virtue of this crane and harness, and kick the crap out of six insurgents."
Newt pulls on the harness nervously. "Are you sure this thing is safe?"
"It's all physics, baby," I says walking back to my chair. "As long as you're exactly 180 pounds like it says on your driver's license, you're as safe as if in your mother's arms. Now the second you here the 'All Clear' safety bell, jump."
A bell rang, and Newt jumped. The crane buckled, and what followed was a scene of catastrophic mechanical failure.
The bell rang again.
Exasperated, I answered my cell phone.
"Hello? Oh hi Mom. Listen I can't talk right now. I'm shooting a movie."
Somewhere below, I could hear Newt groaning.
The 'All Clear' safety bell rang.
"Cut!," I yell. "Print it. That was fantastic! Newt, nice touch with that look of terror. It looked absolutely believable."
"Uhhnn," he says.
"Alright everyone," I says into the megaphone. "We have 30 more scenes to shoot today. Is the Limbaugh Piranha Cannon ready?"
"We're all set sir," says a wincing aide two feet away. "But Rush is complaining that there aren't any piranhas in Iraq."
"Fucking actors," I breathe. "Is he at least in his suit basted with goldfish flakes and pork chops?"
"Yes."
"Well, just push him in the ammo pool and shoot that. I suspect the piranhas aren't such sticklers for detail."
Sunday
Saturday
The Best Laid Mice of Plans and Men
Predator Press
[LOBO]
"The idea," says Ethan touring me through the studio, "is simply that if the media is responsible for the state of current affairs-"
We enter a room where Donald Rumsfeld, shirtless with an M-60 and bandoliers, is shooting six Al Qaeda guys while rifle-butting another and rescuing a puppy.
"-that we can end the end the war the same way," Ethan finishes.
Donald 'tucks and rolls' into an adjacent set, where he delivers an Iraqi baby waving a tiny American flag, all the while ducking gunfire and lobbing potent hand grenades.
"Okay," I says. "But I don't see where I come in."
"LOBO," sighs Ethan. "I want you to film Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld getting pissed off and flying to Iraq, and ending the war once and for all. Personally."
"I like the name 'Gen. David H. Petraeus' too. It sounds kinda Latin. Biblical. Greek even. 'Petraeus' almost sounds Roman, and even after all these centuries the Romans are still kicking ass. Shit, you can't make a movie sequel anymore if it doesn't have an 'V' or an 'X' or a vowel in it somewhere. What the hell would Sylvester Stallone have called his movies then?"
"Exactly."
"Okay," I says as Rumsfeld climbs into a convenient helicopter, and starts napalming 6 guys that look like Osama. "But we're going to have to get Rumsfeld a stunt chest; his pasty tits just flopping around like that might give us a PG 17 rating." I scratch my chin. "Plus it's hell on the sound guys; they say everything sounds like two fat people fucking. Can we get a prosthetic chest? Or maybe 'CGI' something in?"
"That's why you're here," says Ethan smiling. "I want you to film victory."
[LOBO]
"The idea," says Ethan touring me through the studio, "is simply that if the media is responsible for the state of current affairs-"
We enter a room where Donald Rumsfeld, shirtless with an M-60 and bandoliers, is shooting six Al Qaeda guys while rifle-butting another and rescuing a puppy.
"-that we can end the end the war the same way," Ethan finishes.
Donald 'tucks and rolls' into an adjacent set, where he delivers an Iraqi baby waving a tiny American flag, all the while ducking gunfire and lobbing potent hand grenades.
"Okay," I says. "But I don't see where I come in."
"LOBO," sighs Ethan. "I want you to film Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld getting pissed off and flying to Iraq, and ending the war once and for all. Personally."
"I like the name 'Gen. David H. Petraeus' too. It sounds kinda Latin. Biblical. Greek even. 'Petraeus' almost sounds Roman, and even after all these centuries the Romans are still kicking ass. Shit, you can't make a movie sequel anymore if it doesn't have an 'V' or an 'X' or a vowel in it somewhere. What the hell would Sylvester Stallone have called his movies then?"
"Exactly."
"Okay," I says as Rumsfeld climbs into a convenient helicopter, and starts napalming 6 guys that look like Osama. "But we're going to have to get Rumsfeld a stunt chest; his pasty tits just flopping around like that might give us a PG 17 rating." I scratch my chin. "Plus it's hell on the sound guys; they say everything sounds like two fat people fucking. Can we get a prosthetic chest? Or maybe 'CGI' something in?"
"That's why you're here," says Ethan smiling. "I want you to film victory."
Australia
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!"
[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!"
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.
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