Friday, July 15, 2011

Musical Methadone and Mental Masterbation - Volume 27

It was a strange strange day, as the temperatures were changing ever so rapidly throughout the streets. The winds whipped around as if to say that crime fighting wouldn't be an inevitability but a necessity as a new but awkwardly familiar evil was in the air, so much so that even the mere masses without super crime fighting abilities could feel it. This is never a good thing for it makes the job of everyone's favorite super villain turned super hero that much more difficult with everyone expecting an end placed on all this evil and {as we all know} it is hard for most people to comprehend his level of heroic brilliance. Even the long shlog into Pink Mafia Headquarters is rather tentative the evil is cutting through the air like a knife at the moment.

The Caped Pervader isn't without his resources though in times like these. He's in contact the whole time on the Superdaddymobile Com Line with his newest and most important ally in the fight against evil, the One {1} or as she is most commonly referred to as Wifey Finkerbean {WFB} in her everyday disguise when she is out with that simpering weenie, Jeremy Crow {DOLT}. Our brave young crime fighter is lax on his duties of protecting the fair maidens of Megalopolis, as his mind is wandering about the newest plan {LOVE} and plotting such evil schemes as romance. Of course this does throw a new wrinkle into his mind as the musical scales in his head fill with such things as “love songs.” “There's a flame, flame in my heart. And there's no rain, can put it out. And there's a flame, it's burning in my heart. And there's no rain, ooh can put it out. So just hold me, hold me, hold me”

This is quite a dilemma for the Superdaddyman you see as he needs to draw upon all of his super abilities tonight as he has already been alerted {from the last few nights in particular} to another invasion by the evil Tempspanicans. Yes those foul creatures that inhabit the Pink Mafia Headquarters {PMHQ} from time to time, in an effort to be “efficient” in the manufacture of evilling devices, are anything but to a super hero that has every intention of cleaning up Megalopolis for good. Literally the Tempspanicans {from the nation of Tempspanica of course} are quite the handful. Certain things like “self respect” “civility” and most of all “cleanliness” appear to be as foreign as the language they speak in PMHQ. “Take the pain, inside my soul. And I'm afraid, so all alone. Take away the pain, is burning in my soul. Cause I'm afraid that I'll be all alone. So just hold me, hold me, hold me,” floating through the head of the Superdaddyman is NOT making it easy to use the proper amount of Smackdownfu on these people as they violate the very nature of a clean PMHQ.

The methadone for the “love songs” flowing through our brave young {STFU he is young damnit!} super heroes head aren't coming as quickly as they should. Partially because of the fact that it is a new dilemma in his head and partially because of the evil spell {hey we all have some evil in us!} that the One {1} has the Superdaddyman under. One would wonder if he even has the ability to fight evil with all the hearts and flowers that are floating about in his brain, but we are talking about the greatest crime fighter in history after all! Even the weaselly Jeremy Crow {DOLT} would know exactly how to settle this situation, should he need to. He just of course wouldn't have the superior abilities to pull it off like the Superdaddyman does! It was entering the contra-ban region {break room} of PMHQ that he spies out the perfect opportunity! The largest of all the Tempspanicans, all 7 foot 6 inches of English bangling monster from a southern region of Tempspanica {Africa} and the messiest of all of them is sitting playing on the computer, while a ginormous mess lays there just behind him on one of the cleaned an hour ago tables, and the Superdaddyman is ready to smack this bully down like he learned in those prison movies. “Hold on to my heart, to my heart, to me. Hold on to my heart, to my heart, to me. And oh no, don't let me go cause all I am. You hold in your hands, and hold me. And I'll make it through the night. And I'll be alright, hold on, hold on to my heart!”

“What the f*ck is wrong with you? Clean up your sh*t, before I use you to clean up your sh*t!” the Superdaddyman casually stated in his dulcet tones upon entering the lair. The Tempspanican jumped to his feet and started cleaning up the mess as quickly as his 7 foot of legs would carry him, apologizing the whole time. The awesome presence of the Superdaddyman obviously bringing any and all evil to it's knees before him. Heaven and earth can be moved in the very fabric of the bellows from such awe inspiring might and goodness! The Tempspanican set himself back down at the computer obviously in abstract terror, and knowing his place. He'll never try that again! “Well here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand. He's a one ball man and he's off to the rodeo. And it's Allemande left and Allemande right. Come on ya f-*-c-k-i-n' dummy get your right step right. Get off stage ya goddam goof, ya know. Ya p-i-s-s me off, f-*-c-k-i-n' jerk, get on my nerves” ah there's the blessed methadone we needed!

All content in his super abilities our hero proceeds to walk out of the lair of the evil Tempspanicans ready to take on the rest of the PMHQ. The only thing to interfere with the progress of the brave crime fighter as he makes his way to the next obstacle to a great night was the tapping on his shoulder from Paco Taco {the arch nemesis} who had a huge smirk on his face. In his most bored look upon the face of the Superdaddyman revealed that it was time for Paco Taco to speak and he did, “Yanno? That wasn't his mess in there?” and that revelation hit like a shot across the bow. “He hadn't even eaten yet,” and of course Paco Taco took great delight in pulling what would appear to be a fast one on the Caped Pervader, before he walked off. Our Crime fighter stood there for a moment thinking over his next move into action. Definitely a night to put that dead mouse he found the night before in Paco Taco's desk for spoiling his hard fought victory! “Slap the turkey neck and it's hangin from a pigeon wing. You can't write if you can't relate. Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate. And my time is a piece of wax, fallin' on a termite. That's chokin on the splinters. Soy un perdedor. I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me? (Get crazy with the Cheeze Whiz)” ah sh*t not THAT song again! ;8o)