POOP ON MY BUTT

"Can I have another doughnut?"

The instructor sighs, but nods his consent. You leap from your seat to the rear table what contains the refreshments. There, you see a tall lanky man in a bright red coat whom you hadn't noticed before eating the last doughnut.

"Mmmmmm!" he says to himself, "Super-yummy!"

"YOU!" you shout, "YOU ATE THE LAST DOUGHNUT!"

He nods and smiles widely, "It was great! Are there any more?"

"W...W...W..." you studder, full of rage, "Who are you?"

"OH! Self-introductions are so embarrasing!" he smiles widely, then suddenly takes on a much more serious appearance. "But if I must, I am a hunter of peace who chases the mayfly known as love," He glitters, "Or something like that."

Everyone in the room stands there dumbfounded, wondering how in the world he glittered like that. Meanwhile, in a corner of the room two guys are quickly speaking to eachother.

"Hey, Spike!" the older and balder of the two whispers, "That idiot's ruining everything!"

"I know, Jet." whispers the younger, with slightly green tinted, poofy hair, "We'll have to get him right now. And I have an idea." He suddenly raises his voice, "Hey everyone! That guy in the red coat is VASH THE STAMPEDE!"

Everyone in the room is terrified, "The $60 billion bounty? RUN AWAY!" They all scramble out, leaving just you, Vash, Spike and Jet. Jet sighs, "You call that a plan?"

In the blink of an eye, Spike has his pistol drawn and pointed directly at Vash's head. "You're going come quietly, Vash."

This time you didn't even blink, but instantly Vash's own revolver is drawn, and a single gunshot sounds off. Spike's pistol flips through the air, and lands lightly in Vash's other hand. Vash smiles, "I don't think you'll be needing this." he says.

Spike smiles, and leaps towards Vash. Vash fires several more times with his revolver, but surprisingly Spike spins through the air, dodging them. Spike's leg fluidly reaches out and strikes Vash square in the head. The way Spike lands seems awkward to you, but instantly he's back on his feet, and punching again. You're amazed at Spike's fighting style, the way he smoothly blends every move he makes into his attacks.

Suddenly, the two break away. Spike managed to push the fight over to his gun and grab it without Vash realizing. Now the stand, just as before, each with their gun pointed at the other's head. You realize you can't stand for this. You step between them, with your arms outstreched.

"No one has the right to take the life of another!" you say, but before you can say anything else, Spike's heel lands right on top of your head, knocking you out cold.

Despite the Audience's pleas to the contrary, you pick the Purple Rock.

"He's picked the Purple Rock folks!" the game show host says needlessly, "But before we see what he won, let's see what he COULD have won if he had picked the white rock!"

The curtains raise to reveal a speedboat. The announcer describes it, "The FastSplasher 4500 is the first of a new technology speedboat. It can reach surface speeds of 350 knots or at up to a depth of 500 feet 50 knots. It comes equipped with fifteen armor-peircing torpedoes and can travel through time up to one year in either direction. A retail price of one hundred fifty two trillion, six hundred eighty four billion, nine hundred fourty six million, twenty seven thousand three hundred fifty one dollars!"

"Oh, bad luck!" he says, "That's the once-in-a-lifetime prize that will only be offered once on the show!"

"I think this show is rigged," you mumble to yourself.

"Now let's see what you won!" the all-too-cheery host says. "You win... INSTANT VAPORIZATION! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

You attempt to cry out, but instead of your voice, the only thing that comes out of you is a cloud of carbon dioxide and water vapor. Mainly because that is what you have boiled away into.

Your next memory is sitting in the middle of a large room. The entire room is white, and seems to be lit from everywhere at once. You cannot make out any distinct walls or corners, but from that innate sense you guess the room is about ten feet by ten feet.

You realize that you need pants. Searching around, you find a pair of tights. They're pink, but for the moment they'll do. You pull them on over your hairy legs. You make a mental note to shave them soon. Well, in any case, you've got your pants now, and are ready for an exciting day.

Suddenly, for no appearant reason, a bowdart filled with a tranquilizer hits the back of your head. You feel woozy, then fall over.

You wake up in a chair at the foot of an enormous conference table. All around you the room is filled with futuristic control panels and mainframes. You look up at the other end of the table, only to see... your arch rival Ronny Wallbank!

"Well," you say, "If it isn't Johnny Wallbank's evil twin Ronny. Last time I saw you you were kneehigh by the fourth of july."

"Your cunning words will not get you out of this situation," he says, "I've got you right where I want you."

"Do your worst!" you shout, "or your best, for that matter, since your best is still pretty bad."

He ignores you and continues, "I have devised three cunning deathtraps for you to choose from. Choose wisely and you may be able to escape. Choose poorly and you will die a slow and painful death. Choose very poorly and you will die a slow and painful death after watching Manos: The Hands of Fate!"

"Nobody is that cruel!" you shout, "The master will be displeased about this!"

"Silence, you Torgolodyte!" he momentarally laughs at his not-so-clever pun, then continues, "The three traps are as follows:

"First is the powerful cutting laser. It will slowly inch up the table between your legs, through the naughty bits, and then up into the abdomen until you die a slow and painful death.

"Second is the blood pump. It will slowly suck blood from your body until you get light-headed and throw up and die. It's a lot less pleasant than it sounds.

"Lastly is the enormous piston. You stand on a platform without any sort of restraint and after a moment it squishes you flat."

"I choose the slow-moving laser."

"Very well." he says. Suddenly you feel lightheaded. Another dart to the neck. Sheesh.

When you awake, you find youself strapped down spread-eagle on the platform. The laser slowly crawls in along the track in the ceiling. It hums for dramatic effect.

This dramatic effect is only slightly diminished when you realize it's humming "Amazing grace".

You glance around, but there's no tools in reach to assist in your escape. Your only hope is a battle of wits with Ronny.

"You're a big, bed-wetting doody head!" you shout at the top of your lungs.

"I am rubber, you are glue." he says back. Obviously insults aren't the answer.

"Do you expect me to talk?" you ask.

"No, you bloody git," he says, "I expect you to die."

You must choose your next witticism more carefully.

"Have I mentioned you're a big, bed-wetting doody head?"

"Yes, you have."

"You're a failure as an evil villian."

He pauses for a moment and considers this. Finally, he bursts into tears, "YES! It's true! I'm a horrible villian! That is to say, I'm bad at it. Oh, why can't I be more like my twin brother? Everyone likes him! Oh, no, nobody ever bothers summoning me, no it's always Johnnny! WELL THAT'S IT, I GIVE UP!" He runs from the room, still blubbering like a looney.

You smirk in pleasure at your latest victory. That is, until you realize there's now nobody around to turn off the laser, which is now getting dangerously close to your naughty bits.

"I choose bloodletting!"

"Very well." he says. Suddenly you feel lightheaded. Another dart to the neck. Sheesh.

When you awake, you find yourself strapped into a chair. There is an IV inserted in your right arm, which is connected to a small pump. The pump leads to a large glass container what contains your blood.

"Well, you're in a pickle now." Ronny says, "There's no way out! You cannot resist the pump's cold mechanical might!"

"Oh yeah?" you say, "Watch me!" With every ounce of your strength, you resist the pump. The plastic tube connecting your arm to the pump slowly dries up. You smile in satisfaction.

"Hah!" Ronny laughs, "I had planned this all along! Of course an adventurer as yourself would have such strong blood control. But My secret weapon will change all that... Minions, turn on... MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE!"

"NO!" you scream, "THAT'S NOT FAIR! NOT ONE BIT!"

Ronny just laughs and dons his anti-Manos glasses.

The wall in front of you opens up to reveal an enormous projection screen. The room darkens and the intro credits begin to roll.

"No!" you mumble to yourself, "Must... resist... I can resist!" You attempt self-assurance to make sure you stay alive.

The title appears. You totally lose it. This movie is so evil, so insidious, it must have been made by Ronny himself. You quickly stop resisting the pump, and in fact begin pushing blood out of your body as fast as possible. Very quickly your blood pressure drops like a rock and you feel very light-headed.

"What?" yells Ronny, "That's cheating! You're supposed to last at least halfway through!"

"Hah!" you weakly choke out. Now all your effort is on removing enough of your blood to kill yourself without passing out first.

Ronny quickly grabs a switch and flips it. The little pump starts pushing blood back into you! You try to resist, but you're too weak. Blood flows back into your veins and arteries and you get a horrible headache. But, you realize, this is the key! You suck blood into you faster than the pump can pump until you're absorbing extra blood! The Popeye theme plays and your forarms expand. They easily burst your arm bonds, then you rip apart the others.

"I gots to saves me life!" you mumble to yourself. You use your super Popeye strength to OmegaPoke Ronny into another dimention. Then you destroy Manos: the hands of fate! Excellent work, you have defeated Ronny! Good job!

You vanish off into wonderful Limbo! But it's rather dark. And scary.

But you remember a song! "Whenever I feel afraid, I whistle a happy tune!" So you start to whistle. And you feel a hand around your neck and a voice say "Thanks, I thought I'd never find you in the dark!"

The lights go on and there's this guy standing over you with a gun. He says "Take advantage of MY little sister, will you?"

You shrug. "Sure, where is she?"

He says "Prepare to die!"

You say, "Well, I've always done that... but look: I'll tell you a riddle.If you answer it you can kill me but if you don't answer it you have to let me go!" He says, "Why should I?" You say, "Awwww.... comeon..."

He says, "What's the riddle?"

You say, "What is it that has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon and three legs at night?"

He says, "The answer is man. Who in the morning crawls on four legs 'cause he's a baby, in the afternoon he walks upright on two legs 'cuz he's an adult and in the evening he's an old man with a cane and that's three legs."

You say, "Hah! Hah! It's a donkey! Who has four legs in the morning and in the afternoon you chop two of 'em off and the evening you glue one back on again! What a moron!" Well you got out of THAT one all right...

You and your date head off to the Ritz-o-rama for an elegant night on the town. In the car, you try and make small-talk.

"WHO ARE YOU?" you ask politely.

"I'm pat," They say, "I'm 24 years old and I work as the dental assistant in charge of plant matter buildup at the Dr. Krang and Sons dental center."

"Oh, smashing." You say with your best british accent.

"Oh, are you british?" they ask innocently.

"No," you say, "But I can summon Johnny Wallbank, watch!" You wave your hands in the air and snag a couple magic tendrils to summon Johnny Wallbank in front of you. Sadly, you summoned him in front of your car as you travel on I-94 at 65 miles an hour.

"Oh bloody hell-" he manages to squeeze out before your car tears him into managable chunks. "Cool, huh?" you ask.

"OH MY LORD YOU JUST RAN OVER THAT MAN!" You date screams, "Pull over! I'm getting out!"

"No, no, it's okay! You see, when a summoned creature dies, it doesn't actually die. It returns from whence it was summoned unharmed."

"UNHARMED?" your date screams, "LOOK AT THAT BIG MESSY BLOODSTAIN ON THE ROAD!"

"Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll summon him again to prove to you he's fine." Your date begins a protest, but you already gesture at the back seat. In a poof of smoke and a soft "BAMF" Johnny appears.

"YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" he screams, lunging forward and grabbing your neck, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!" Johnny practically climbs onto your lap as he chokes you. Luckily your date has the presence of mind to grab the wheel as you use your hands to wrestle off the angry englishman.

"Gak-Johnny! Please... I... Akkk!" You state eloquently as Johnny squeezes your neck with inhuman strength. Words fail you, so you seek the only other tool you have... HyperPoke! You jab him deep in the abdomen, sending him out through the windshield. Johnny manages to grab onto the hood, hanging on precariously. He swears, but the rushing wind drowns out his words. Then, you see him raise one hand into the air to begin gesturing wildly. You recognize the spell too late: oFish. Suddenly a torrential downpour of yummy fish covers the freeway, limiting your visibility to zero. The wheels skid and slide on the slimy fish guts, and your poor date can't keep up with it. Your car fishtails, then rolls over. Johnny is unsummoned as the oFish barrage swept him from the hood and onto the unforgiving asphalt but this is hardly the foremost thing on your mind as your car rolls down the freeway at 60 miles per hour on a layer of slippery fish guts.

You and your date stride off to visit the local Satanic Church.

"Hey," says Chuck the Demon, "Welcome to the Satanic Church. Are you sold or unsold?"

Your date says, "Sold." Which kind of surprises you. Your soul was never worth more than a measly free trip to Disneyworld, and you figure that you deserve more for committing yourself to eternal damnation.

You decide to strike up a conversation over it. "So, what did you sell your soul for?" you ask innocently.

"Two superbowl tickets," Your date says nonchalantly.

You emit a low whistle. "Sorry," you admit, "I have to get that looked at."

Your date smiles politely, but before they can say anything, the pastor steps forward.

"Brothers and sisters!" he yells, "We are gathered here for... for... oh no," his eyes lock on yours, "Not you... You promised you'd never return."

You wonder what the heck the preacher is talking about, then you notice that your date is now floating several feet in the air spewing pea soup over all the members sitting close to you. Before anything else can happen, your date morphs into an evil demonic figure. "I've come for you!" your date says in an otherworldly voice. "GIVE ME YOUR ENERGY!"

"Stop right there!" a girl's voice behind you says. You turn to look, and see it belongs to a girl in some variation of a Japanese girl's school uniform. Several of the stained glass windows break, and more girls in the same uniform leap through.

"I am sailor moon!" she yells, "I am sworn to defend the world from nega-scum, and that means you!" She strikes various poses as she speaks.

You rub your chin thoughtfully. You can't deny that all your life you fanticized about beating the tar out of Sailor Moon. You motion to your date to come closer, and they lean down next to you. "Hey," you say, "Let me handle the Sailor Brats. You sit this one out." Your date shrugs and decends back to their seat. Meanwhile, you leap up. "Alright, listen moonie, you can't possibly compete with my HyperPoke, nor could you ever face the might of Johnny Wallbank!"

Sailor moon looks at you oddly. "Wait, you don't understand, I'm here to-" You cut her off by screaming the name of your move while preforming it in classic Anime style. She is hit right in the gut by a critical HyperPoke. She squeaks a sound of alarm as she disappears from this plane of existance.

"Well crap," Says one of the girls who must be Sailor Mercury, "How the heck are we supposed to beat anything without Sailor Moon's one-hit-KO attacks?"

Sailor Jupiter shrugs, "I don't know, but maybe if we attack him enough he'll eventually get bored and leave."

"I tried to warn you," Sailor Venus sighed, "None of the episodes ever did this. I warned you that if we started doing fan works, these kinds of impossible things would happen."

You! A fan! The mere thought infuriates you. You gesture intensely and smile as Sailor Venus is swept away in a blast of oFish. The other Sailor Scouts stare at you. "Well," Sailor Mercury says, "That's two of us. We might as well quit now.

"NO!" Sailor Mars, who up to this point has kept her yap shut, says, "We must fight! For Sailor Moon!"

The other scouts emit what under very loose definitions could be considered a rallying cry, and begin posing to preform their attacks. You casually walk up to each one and HyperPoke them as they attempt to pose as quickly as possible. Finally, they're all gone, defeated. Good job!

Of course! What's more romantic than the Final Dungeon?

It's RPG tradition for the most pivotal parts of the plot to occur in the final dungeon, so logic dictates that the most pivotal parts of Error should happen there too.

You walk down into the depths of the strange center of evil and dispair, and your date looks at you warily.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" they ask, eyeing a glowing puddle fed by drips from far above.

"Oh, sure," you say, "I cleaned this place out leveling up to level 99."

"So there aren't random encounters?" your date asks.

"Of course not," you say laughingly, "What do you think this is, Final Fantasy?"

Your date shrugs, "Don't ask me."

You hear footsteps, and you motion for your date to stand still. Unfortunately, you also cast oPetrify on them. Oh well, at least they'll be safe.

"I've come for revenge." says a gravelly voice.

"Johnny?" you say, "No... you're not!"

From the shadows emerges Ronny Wallbank, Johnny's evil twin brother from an alternate universe.

"Ronny wallbank," you say, "Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear you've attacked a diplomatic-"

Ronny cuts you off. "Don't act so surprised, your highness. You weren't on any mercy mission this time. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I am a member of the imperial senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan."

"You are part of the rebel alliance and a trator!" Ronny yells, "Take them away!"

You stand confused for several moments, wondering who is supposed to take you away. Finally, you decide there is no one else. You quickly drop to a ready stance. "Prepare to die!" you yell.

Hah! You cannot possibly kill me-GAH!" you stab him in the solar plexus with a devistating HyperPoke. He falls to his knees, gasping for breath. You quickly bring your boot down on the back of his neck, sending him sprawling. Finally, little else is left to do but HyperPoke him into the afterlife.

"Oh, you," your date says, "I love a member of the opposite sex who knows how to battle!" You kiss. Good job!

The newest cult! Of course! Well, you look in the yellow pages and find the perfect one: The New Age of Human Life Scientific Religion Studies Group! The ad says their next meeting is this Friday at 564 Lifetime Avenue. You can even bring a dish to pass!

So, finally, you arrive at 564 Lifetime Avenue with your mother's French Tuna Casserole, the fruits of nearly 12 hours of painstaking cooking. You arrive, and a normal-sized man wearing a leotard and beads greets you. He tells you to shed your worldly possessions, pointing to your Cel phone. You put it on a table and follow the man into the basement. There are several fat people all sitting on beanbags, who aren't wearing leotards. They lick their lips and stare at you greedily.

"What the heck is going on here?" You demand. You hear a whooshing sound behind you, and you turn around to see a fat woman FLYING AT YOU! IT'S AN EAT ATTACK! You scream in horror and jump sideways, but all the other fat people are standing in a circle around you, jiggling with hunger. You do the only thing you can do.

"HyperPoke!" You scream and jab your finger deep into the folds of one of the fat people. Their eyes bug out and they scream, and they vanish in a blast of white smoke. But you're not going to be able to poke all of them in time. So you summon JOHNNY WALLBANK!

Johnny appears in a flash of green light and looks around. "Oh, bloody hell. It's a bunch of fat people." Johnny sighs, and then starts hurling big globs of britishness at them all. While they're distracted by Johnny's britishness, you easily HyperPoke them all, leaving the normal-sized man.

"You may have destroyed the cannibal fat people, but you will not win against me!" He screams as he transforms into a horrible monster with several tentacles and a giant mouth in his belly that is filled with sharp teeth.

"Well," says Johnny, "Let's get going!" He casts oFish, causing a rain of yummy fish to fall on the evil monster! The monster laughs and then spits a wad of FATPHLEGM at you! You HyperPoke the FATPHLEGM before it hits you, but your finger burns from touching it!

"Johnny! Our only chance is to do a Dual Tech!" You scream to him. He nods, and when you're both ready, he tosses a ball of britishness into the air. You leap up and jab the ball and it glows bright white. It zooms at the monster and strikes him right in the mouth. He screams in pain, and anime-style beams of light leap out of is body as many small explosions explode around him. Finally, everything goes white and he's gone.

"I'm interested in The Revolution." You say.

The man smiles and says, "Why didn't you say so? Follow me." He motions to the door to the back room and you follow him. Suddenly you feel a smashing weight hit you in the head and you fall to the ground unconscious.

You wake up to see a large man standing over you with a gun. "So, you're the new guy, huh?" He wears sunglasses, a green jacket,and tan slacks. "Do you think you're capable of serving the Revolution?"

You blink your eyes to clear them. The entire room, the inside of a warehouse it seems, is full of people in the same outfit. Indeed, you too are wearing the outfit. "I think there's some mistake..."

"No mistake comrade." The man throws a sack at you. It contains:

First, an AK-47, the wood parts polished to a high finish.

Next, at least 5 clips of ammo for the AK-47.

Then, some Kevlar body armor.

Lastly, a high-explosive grenade, looking like a tin can with a metal spoon and pin on the top.

"Comrades! Americans!" The terrorists around you cock their weapons. Within seconds, a flashbang rolls through the half-opened door of the room. It explodes, blinding everyone in the room. You grope up a ramp and as your vision clears, you see that you're up on a walkway in the upper level. There's an air vent with a ladder in front of you, and you quickly jump into it. As bullets ping against the steel walls of the vent, you start to contemplate your fate. Just then, a high-explosive grenade lands in your lap.You have just enough time to scream before it goes off, blowing up both you and the vent around you. Ghostly floating at the point you died, you are treated to a view of your "comrades" being systematically butchered. Then, you realize there's another ghostly floating being there with you.

"Hi!" He says, "I'm Casper!"

"Shouldn't that be [ch] Casper?"

"No, I'm not THAT good, but boy, do I have a lot to explain to you, if you want to listen!"

You climb into the back seat of the car, next to the mafia type that summoned you. The mafia type casually takes a small blowgun out of his coat.

You eye the blowgun warily. "You're not gonna shoot me with that, are you?"

"Oh, no!" the mafia guy says, "I wouldn't dream of it!"

The car ride goes fairly smoothly for the next ten minutes or so, although you can't help but think that you're going in circles. Finally, you notice a rathe cute dog walking along outside. In this moment of weakness, you feel a sharp pain in the back of your neck. You're about to care about it, but before you can, you go under.

You wake up slowly, eventually realizing you're tied to a chair in a fancy office, surrounded by Mafia types. The large chair behind the desk is facing away, towards the large windows that offer a view of the city. The man in the chair speaks.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time."

"I'd know that voice anywhere!" you yell, "Ronny Wallbank, only you could be so bold!"

The chair swivels around, confirming your suspicions, "Yes, it is I, Ronny Wallbank! But, do not fear. I don't intend to kill you this time."

"Oh? That's a refreshing change of pace."

"Isn't it though?" Ronny chuckles to himself, then continues, "No, I really don't want to kill you. Instead I want you to summon that annoying twin brother of mine, Johnny Wallbank. I know you're the only person on earth that can get to him."

"You know he lives in England, right?" You ask, "You can just go to see him. I even have his address. He lives in Coventry!"

"NO!" Ronny screams, "I want him HERE! NOW!"

"Whatever." You try to shrug, but your arms are bound too tightly for even that.

"So..." Ronny says, "What do you say?"

"Okay, I'll help you." you say, after all, if Ronny kills Johnny, he'll just be unsummoned.

"Good. I'm glad you see things my way." Ronny motions for the guards to untie you. After a minute or two of their fumbling with the knots, they look up at Ronny and shrug.

"Oh for the love of-" Ronny jumps from his chair and walks around the table to take a stab at untying the ropes. He too can't get them untied. "Geez, who tied these ropes anyway?"

On of the mafia types scratches his head, "Bob, I think. But we whacked him after he dropped off this loser."

Ronny sighs and holds his head in his hands. "Can't you summon Johnny without gesturing wildly?

"Nope, sorry. The gesturing wildly is just as important as the mumbling under my breath.

Ronny looks about at the group of lackeys and asks, "Doesn't anyone have a knife or something sharp? A lighter? broken bottle? ANYTHING?"

The lackeys all look at eachother and shrug. One of them reaches into their pocket and fishes out a quarter. "Will this work, boss?"

Ronny grumbles something under his breath and snatches the quarter from the lackey. He raises his arm to throw it at the lackey, but he stops and instead looks at it closely. He sighs and hands it to the lackey, "Try it," he grumbles, "It's not like we have any other choices." Ronny turns to you and says, "Now would be a good time to develop super stength."

Hours go by, and the quarter proves to be totally ineffectual against the ropes. You sigh, "You could have sent somebody out to get a sharp thing by now!"

Looking at his shoes, Ronny admits, "We spent all our money renting the place and buying these spiffy suits."

You sigh and now realize why you would want a spell that instantly kills yourself.

You press as many of the buttons as possible. This probably wasn't a good idea, as now the tank is gone, the sky is orange, and all the rabid raccoons have turned into sentient turnips that are still rabid. you press more buttons that summon a tidal wave three inches high, turn the officer into a giant cowboy boot, and imbue life into Johnny's hair, which isn't nearly as pleasant as it may sound. Still you find nothing that can remove the rabid sentient turnips that are even now trying to figure out how to bite things.

"AAAAAAAUGH!" Johnny screams, obviously not helping matters, "MY HAIR IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"

Running out of options, you try bashing a sentient turnip that happens to be rabid with the remote. Miraculously, it vanishes in a poof of smoke. "That's the answer, Johnny!" you yell, "Hit the turnips with the remote!" You toss the remote to Johnny so he can remove the turnips that plague him.

"GUHUGHUGUHGUUH" Johnny gurgles in reply, totally failing to catch the remote. You run up and grab the remote again, and begin smacking the turnips that plague Johnny. Finally, after a moment of frenzied whacking, the turnips are gone.

"GWAM!" Johnny says, totally losing his grip on reality.

"Well," you say to yourself, "I figure that if I destroy this remote, all the changes will vanish! That's what always happens in the cheap science fiction movies that need a quick resolution!

Sadly the one thing you hadn't considered is that this is NOT a science fiction movie, and this does not in fact need a quick resolution, because there's already a quick resolution that is about to smash you. That's right, it turns out the Cowboy boot that was once the officer is still sentient, and has decided to simply squash both you and Johnny.

"Excellent," says Al, "The classic swordfighting weapon!"

"I thought that was more a rapier," you say.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth? Anyway, the first thing you need to know about swordfighting is it's not about swords."

This comes as somewhat of a surprise. You vocalize this concern.

"Yeah, everyone gets it wrong," Al explains, "Swordfighting is really about insults."

"NANI???" you exclaim, forgetting for a moment your native tounge.

"I know! It's crazy! Here, let me demonstrate. Come at me like you mean to cut off my left pinky."

"OK!!!" you lunge for his left pinky, determined to chop it off in one fell swoop.

Unexpectedly, Al says, "You fight like a dairy farmer!" with the air of someone expecting a reply.

"I am rubber, you are glue!" you shout, but to no avail. In moments you're disarmed and helpless.

"Do you know what your mistake was?" Al asks.

"I should have just gutted you from liver to sweetmeats?" you ask.

"No. You didn't have a comeback. That's what swordfighting is all about. A cutting remark, a blocking comeback!" Al's eyes take on a distinctive glazed-over look. "Back and forth, a battle of wits and wills!"

"You're a looney."

"I am NOT a looney!"

"Oh, right. Now, let's try this again..."

Time passes...

You gained a new ability: Insult Swordfighting!

?On second thought, I think I?ll give that cyborg thing a try,? you tell the clerk.

?Excellent!? cries the clerk, whom you are beginning to find vaguely creepy. ?Please breathe in large amounts of this chloroform, so we can operate on you without causing more pain then your frail human body can withstand.?

?Hey wai?? you attempt to cry out, but your words are cut off as you pass out.

72 hours and one extensive surgery later...

You awaken inside an upright cylinder of water, wearing an oxygen mask and just enough clothes to not be considered indecent. You look around and realize that you are in a room full of high tech computers and medical devices, as well as a bucket that seems to contain most of your original bones. Suddenly the water starts to drain and the clerk walks into the room. ?You?re awake!? he happily exclaims.

?What on earth did you do to me?? you groggily ask.

?Well, I replaced all of your bones with space age metals, replaced your eyes with our special omnivision artificial eyes, complete with x ray vision, and replaced your muscles with our new, extra strong, synthetic ones. You?re far stronger then you were before, you still look mostly human, and all your old techniques should still work!? The clerk smiles the smile of the highly annoying as he finishes draining the tube and lets you out.

Cool stuff. Now to use your new power however you see fit.

Half of living a healthy and ordinary life is holding a steady job. You already have more gold then you know what to do with, but being employed is an important part of life that you don?t want to miss out on. So, without further ado, you haul your radioactive alien self to a generic office building and sign up for an interview. The Secretary schedules an interview for you on Tuesday next week.

The Tuesday of the interview you come prepared. You make sure your resume is up to date, and wear your best radioactive space pirate business suit. You arrive at the workplace, where your interview with the boss is Scheduled at 2:30. You find the office with relative ease, and knock on the door, a familiar voice beckons you to enter. The voice of evil, the voice of Ronny Walbank!

You burst into the office, big plasma cannon at the ready, and shout, ?You won?t get away this time Ronny!?

Ronny looks up from his desk, giving you a look that can only be described as strange. ?Do I know you?? He says.

?I?m the brave adventurer who just happens to be your sworn enemy!? You can?t believe that he?s forgotten you.

?Oh? says Ronny, sizing up your new alien space pirate body. ?You?ve had some changes done.?

?Shouldn?t you be off designing some evil plan?? Having a middle management position at a generic office is not like Ronny at all.

Ronny sighs. ?I wish,? he says, ?But evil doesn?t pay the bills. Besides, I try to keep my business life and my personal life separate. Let?s get this interview started.?

The interview goes remarkably well, considering that it?s between a radioactive alien space pirate, and his evil arch nemesis. You get the job, die to your impressive experience with computer networking, and the fact that having a Phazon Elite will be good for office diversity. Your work starts on Monday at 8:00.

You place the book on the holy altar and it is instantly consumed in holy flame. Unfortunately the Anime god rejects your offering and it is spat back at you, still flaming.

You dance about wildly, smacking your flaming face with the flaming book in an effort to put out the flames that just won't stop. Finally the flames go out and you hold the charred remains of the book in your hands. It's quite cool, and seemed to have become even thicker and heavier than before, if that's possible.

You hold it up, and now you see fine lines, finer than the finest penstrokes on the cover, front and back: Lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script. They shone piercingly bright, and yet remote, as if from a great depth.

"I cannot read the fiery letters." you say to nobody in particular in a quavering voice.

"No," says Gandalf, "But I can. The letters are Elvish, an ancient mode, but the language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here. But this in the common Tounge is what is said, close enough:

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."

"Who..." you say at last, "The heck are you?"

"I am Gandoolf Foogrey, and that before you is the Ring of Power, once held by the Dark Lord Sauron."

"You're off you chum."

"If you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch or to indeed deny the existance of the Dark Lord Sauron, I shall have to ask you to step outside!"

By ?visit? I mean kill the Mafia boss, of course. Why else would it be in quotation marks?

You put on your best trenchcoat and fill it full of guns, ammo, grenades, and the odd knife or two. You had originally planned to ride a speedy little spaceship or really cool car to the Mafia HQ, but your spaceship has been making a weird rattling noise whenever you turn left, and your cool car is in the shop due to transmission problems, so you take the bus instead. You as you walk up the steps to the front door of the Mafia HQ, you push down any lingering fear or paranoia. Then you step on the little mat that activates the automatic door and step inside.

One really cool sequence in which you fight your way to the big boss?s room later...

You kick open the door, fully loaded gun at the ready, and quickly scan the room. It?s a pretty nice room, lots of trophies and paintings on the walls, all the furniture is good mahogany, you almost feel sorry about having to completely destroy it. A large backed chair faces away from you. ?So you?ve finally come,? says an all-to-familiar voice.

?I?d know that voice anywhere!? you scream. ?It?s you, Ronny Wallbank!?

The chair slowly swivles around putting you face to face with the single most evil being that you can think of at the moment. The feared Ronny Wallbank! Everything about him screams ?I?m too evil to live in civilized society!? Smiling, he pulls a custom made handgun out of his spiffy Mafia boss coat, and says ?Let?s finish this.?

?My pleasure,? you reply.

There has to be some sort of explanation for moments when the laws of grammar, punctuation, spelling and sometimes even logic itself suddenly no longer apply. You must get to the bottom of this scientific mystery. You apply for a research grant, and turn half of your living quarters into a laboratory, in which you feverishly slave away, looking for the answers to questions that don?t seem to end. You also remove the dead ocelot from the back of your neck. That thing was starting to smell.

Finally, after 3 months of research, you manage to complete a paper on your findings on the unusual workings of the universe. In it, you theorize that the state of the universe is determined by all-powerful, keyboard tapping entities that can bend the universe to their fickle whims. You state that there are an infinite number of these ?tappers? each one of them building a new scenario whenever you make a choice, and that each choice you make creates 3 separate parallel universes in which you acted differently.

You go on to state that because no two of the theoretically infinite tappers are alike, each of them will alter the universe in a unique way. While most of these tappers are reasonably skilled at creating a reality that at least follows along with previous events, some tappers are, to put it bluntly, idiots. Their poor grammar, faulty logic, and love of incredibly stupid humor causes flaws to occur in the fabric of the universe, such as changes in tense, and lack of punctuation.

Needless to say, your theory is a huge hit in the scientific community. You submit your theory to several scientific publications, and as a result, eventually win a Nobel Prize, and the 1,000,000 gold that comes with it. Congratulations, you?re now an esteemed member of the scientific community, as well as filthy stinking rich!

Ahh, vicious taunting. Back in high school you were on the varsity vicious taunting team. Those were the days. You try to remember all your best vicious taunts, and focus on your target at hand: Ronny Wallbank!

With your best mean-spirited smile, you look up at Ronny and say, ?You mean to tell me that you spent all your money on Mafia accessories?! That?s stupid! You?re stupid! I hope you die in a ditch!?

Ronny turns to face you, and says, ?Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.?

?I?d rely on clich? old sayings too if I was as stupid as you!? You grin maliciously, waiting for your sharp wit to take effect.

Ronny smiles, ?Nice try, but it will take better putdowns then that to get through to me!?

He?s trying to turn the tables on you! The time has come for your all-out attack. You glare sinisterly at Ronny and say ?You're a big, bed-wetting doody head!?

?What? That?s stupid.?

?Not as stupid as your face!?

The tears start to well up in Ronny?s eyes. ?It?s true!? he sobs, ?My face is stupid!? With that he runs from the room, sobbing hysterically. You?ve crushed Ronny Wallbank?s soul! Good work! Now all you have to do is somehow free yourself from the chair without getting murdered by the remaining Mafia types.

How dare this Mexican guy intentionally insert killer pepperonis in your pizza! Through sheer mental exertion, you force the unhappy puppy soul to the very darkest corners of your mind, thusly regaining control of your body. Then you quickly Hyperpoke all of the evil carnivorous pepperonis. Your immediate problems taken care of, you press onwards to find a PHONE BOOTH!!

You find a phone booth without event.

Once inside of the 2 by 2 glass cell, you dial in the number of the mysterious Mexican guy, and wait. He answers on the tenth ring, with the most cryptic, evil, and terrifying telephone response ever: ?Hello??

?You CUR!? you scream into the phone. ?How DARE you put killer pepperonis in my pizza! I will burn your village and make slaves of your children! You and your crafty Mexican guy ways! You make me sick!?

?What?? says the guy on the other end, sounding genuinely confused. ?Who is this??

?SILENCE you Mexican pizza maker!? you scream. ?Answer my questions or I?ll Hyperpoke you over the phone!?

?I?m not a Mexican pizza maker!? the pitiful soul you?re harassing protests. ?I?m an accountant living in Cleveland! Why are you calling me? What?d I do!??

An accountant from Cleveland! Surely this cannot be! You quickly search your pockets to find the menu, so you can confirm the phone number. Then you realize that the menu, was probably an error fume induced hallucination. Come to think of it, so were the killer pepperonis and the unhappy puppy soul.

?Are you still there?? says the guy on the phone. ?Are you high on error fumes or something??

Well this is awkward. What are you gonna do to get out of this one?

?Hey,? you say, ?Are you Justin Timberlake??

?Yes, I am,? says the bank teller. ?Now off to the lions with you.?

?You wouldn?t happen to be the same Justin Timberlake that cursed the earth with the aural torture titled ?Cry Me a River?, would you??

?The same,? he says, ?Now if you please, the lions are getting hungry.? With that he tries to push you into a pit full of starved lions, but you evade his weak, pop-singer push at the last minute!

?You sir,? you say to Justin Timberlake, ?are a plague upon the earth. Now prepare to cry me a river as I beat you savagely with this chair.?

?Wait!? Justin attempts to cry out, but by that point you?ve already started your savage beating process. Being the crule, depraved shell of a human that you are, you hit him untill he actually does cry you a river, or at least a rather larger stream.

Once you are finished beating the poor singer half to death, you realize that the angry bank patrons have gotten up off the floor and created a tight circle around you. One of them steps forwards and says, ?Do you realize what you have just done??

?Sure? you say, ?I beat up a popular singer because I don't like his music.?

?No,? says the bank patron, ?You just beat up the only teller. The teller that we all waited in line for hours to see. The teller that was going to carry out our bank transactions.?

?Oh? Sorry?? You never quite considered the implications of Justin Timberlake being the bank teller while you beat him up.

?GET HIM!? the angry bank patron screams. With that, the angry bank patrons rush you from all sides, screaming for your blood. Even with your incredible fighting skills, you don?t even come close to surviving. Poor you.

You respawn inside of a mediaeval castle, specifically in the treasury room where they keep all the gold. What Luck!

The three laws of robotics state that:

1. A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

You've found your loophole! Nowhere does it say anything about obtaining override programs for the laws of robotics, and if you have someone erase the laws of robotics from your new positronic brain, then you will not know them and therefore, will not be able to comply with them! You head on down to your nearby electronics store, and slip the most morally loose employee 50 gold to remove your Laws of Robotics software.

As soon as the morally loose employee is done, you make an effort to kill him, and it works! You run around the electronics store, happily shouting ?Must kill all humans!? You?re like Bender, only more violent! Oh happy day!

Unfortunately, society at large is not as accepting of killers with positronic brains The evacuate everybody they can from the store, and then bomb it. Your frail human body is vaporized, but you live on through your cold, mechanical, positronic brain. All you need is some sort of body to install yourself into, be it machine, human, or animal? Which should you go for?

With a gentle "Bamf!" Johnny Wallbank appears. He takes one look at you, sighs and says "What now?"

"Hey Johnny," you say, "I dare you to use this terrifying dark relic."

"What's it do?" asks Johnny, as he eyes you suspiciously.

"It grants you a single wish."

"Well... okay," Says Johnny. Then, to the relic, he says, "I wish for one Zillion gold!"

Immediately, a pile of one zillion gold appears beside Johnny. It's like, five meters tall and twenty meters wide. Apparently the wish aspect of the relic is definitely true.

Unfortunately, poor Johnny does not get to enjoy his gold for very long. For as soon as the pile appeared a portal to the underworld opened in the earth. You can only watch in horror as a terrible scaly arm emerges from the black portal, and thrusts itself into Johnny's torso, obviously attempting to take his soul. Fortunately for Johnny, he was summoned, meaning that the Monster arm's attack unsummoned him instead of taking his soul. and Fortunately for you, the demon arm gives up on soul gathering when Johnny disappears, instead of going after you. The terrible hand retracts into the portal, and then the portal disappears altogether.

After you finish being shaken by this horrifying experience, you realize that the one zillion gold is still right next to you. Oh happy day! You should probably return it to Johnny somehow, but it would be much more fun to blow it on petty frivolities.

"Okay," you say, "I'll agree to your terms."

"Excellent! Meet me at this address at midnight."

Time passes...

You are standing in front of a big gated estate. You're about to buzz the intercom at the gate, but a man motions you from his panel van. You walk over.

"You're the new guy, huh?" he asks. "Okay, let's see what you can do. Break into the mansion and find the old guy. Demand Meathods from him. He won't have any, so you pick him up and turn him into a red streak."

"Um, a real one, or do you do it in post-production?" you ask skeptically.

"A real one. The, uh, actor has had a good life and wants to go out with a bang.

"Oh, okay. I know the feeling." you say.

With Meathod-induced strength you tear the gate apart and trounce up the long driveway. Finally you get to the door. you smash it open. Several armed security types try to stop you, but you merely fold them up into convenient bite-sized morsels for later. Finally you fight your way to the boss, an enormous guy with a rocket launcher. You quickly learn his pattern and grab his rockets for a daring reverse fire attack! It works, the boss soon explodes in a bunch of cool laser effects. You break into the bedroom of the old man and demand Meathods.

"They're in the freezer downstairs!" the man screams, "I'd have a servant get them for you but you killed them all!"

"That's not in the script!" you demand, "I want Meathods!"

Dejected, you sulk back to the man in the van and declare your failure.

"What? he asks, "You'll never work in this town again!" then he punts you. This turns out to be a mistake because you grab him by the sweetmeats and turn him into a fine red mist.

As you travel, you cannot shake the feeling that you are invading a place untouched by any being for centuries previously. Your suspicions are confirmed by your muffled footsteps, and the motes of dust stirred by your presence.

You come upon the source of the unearthly glow.

Three pedestals stand, showered in a light that seems to have no source. Oddly, no dust has settled in the area just surrounding the pedestals. You cannot shake the feeling that what you see should not have been seen by your simple eyes, the pedestals seem to call to you to possess that which they hold.

The leftmost pedestal holds a shimmering scimitar, ornately carved, very sharp looking, and evidently magical in nature.

The center pedestal holds a diamond effigy of a monk kneeling in prayer. The artifact glimmers with an inner light.

The rightmost pedestal holds a pair of gauntlets, simply, but sturdily constructed. A glowing rune is etched into the palm of each.

The artifacts call to you. One of them must be taken!

You travel towards the infinite darkness. As you travel, you wonder why you chose to go this way. Truly there is an evil in any darkness, and this darkness is definitely the darkest you have ever seen. But your thoughts of doubt recede as you continue.

The farther you go, the dimmer and farther apart the torches in the cavern become. Soon, you are travelling in a seeming void, except for the rhythmic clicking of your adventurer's boots on the hard stone floor of the cavern, affirming your continued existence in this world of nether darkness.

After what seems like hours of mental silence, you come upon a bastion of true darkness in what now seems like a world of grey. All that can be discerned is shades of darkness. An arch, monumental in proportions, towers over you, with an ominous affect on your mental state. A set of stone stairs, built into the floor of the cavern leads to a circular stage of sorts with a slightly raised dais with what appears to be a circle of darkness engraved in it.

Suddenly, you lose control of all of the power of your sweaty and adventure worn muscles.

Your body ascends the steps leading to the circle. As you approach the circle, you see that on the stage around it are numerous larger circles centered on the plinth of evil, and amongst the circles, are carved many small symbols and runes, few of which you are able to recognize, all of which bespeak evil, death, and destruction.

As you reach the dais, you realize that even more intricate circles, lines, runes, and symbols are etched into the dais, so densely that it seems to be solid evil towards the center.

Three of the innermost circles and their encircled runes glow with a shade of darkness different than any that you have seen before.

You realize that they must have been activated by your presence, and dulled your mental processes in your approach. They must be what are now controlling your body!

Before you have any chance to react to the impending danger of the situation, two more of the circles suddenly begin glowing darkly. Suddenly, you find yourself drawing very heavily on your magical sources, and you begin to gesture in ways that you never would have believed possible, have never tried, and never would have had the guts to try to use in a spell anyway. Your hands' complicated movements blur as their speed increases. Suddenly, a sixth circle, the outermost circle on the dais, begins to glow, and an evil and arcane language is emitted from your throught, burning as they come. The amount of magic that you are drawing increases.

Suddenly, in rapid succession, the circles of the stage around you begin to light up in the dark way that the smaller circles of the dais had. As the incantations and gestures continue, and the circles and runes continue to light up, a vortex of swirling grey and utter blackness forms, twixt the arch. It grows in size and power as the spell you seem to be activating continues its malevolent work. A parched wind and the smell of sulfer and other gasses of the inner earth are belched from the portal as it grows. Your throat is searing from the evil tones being uttered from it!

As the last of the circles begins to glow, a blinding flash of light burns your retinas, and the vortex shifts to a hellish shade of red as an indescribably terrible roar of a laugh escapes the portal. Suddenly, your muscles regain control of themselves, and you collapse to the floor in the wake of the exertion that has just been forced upon your weary body.

You raise your head enough to view the creature that emerges from the portal and gasp. It is nearly as tall as the arch from which it came, and has leathery wings, dark and arcanic armor, horribly powerful muscles, a giant flaming broadsword at its belt, and eyes that flame and smoulder as the forces inside it struggle to be used to destroy. Its vast, demonic form astounds you.

He speaks. "Thank you, mortal, for assisting in my release from hell. While I was the master there, it was still not a very pleasant place to exist within. As a limbo dimension devoted to the torment of the sinful, there is very little in the way of niceties and comfort, even for those who assist in its purpose. I am very glad to be free. Very glad indeed. In fact, I believe that I will be glad to grant any request that you might have for me. There is very little that is beyond my power. So... what do you desire, mortal?"

Well? What can you say to the demon that appears to be Satan, lord of Hell, and key factor in the corruption of humanity?

A party could get that spark back into your life! You send out invitations to everybody on your street. ?Superdarklord Party! Come or be crushed by the mighty Superdarklord!? They proclaim.

The day of the Party arrives, and your guests show up as expected. Well, some of them did anyways, enough to throw a cool party with. It?s a little awkward at first but then people start to mingle and soon you?re all having a grand time.

You?re just about to start the Karaoke finals when suddenly someone knocks on the front door. ?I?ll be right back,? you say to your guests, ?Apparently someone is running late.?

You open your door to see a dark, shadowy figure, wearing a trench coat and dark glasses. ?Cool party,? the mystery man says, ?Why wasn?t I invited??

With that, the mysterious visitor removes his dark glasses and reveals himself to be? RONNY WALLBANK! ?Ronny!? you gasp, ?How did you know I was throwing a swinging shindig?!?

?Fool!? Ronny bellows, ?I?ve been keeping my eyes on you, Superdarklord! I have known about your swinging shindigs for some time now! And what I want to know is? Why wasn?t I invited?!?

?I didn?t know where to send your invitation,? You respond. ?The postal service doesn?t deliver to your secret lair, and as far as I know, you don?t have a post office box.?

?Oh.? Ronny responds. An awkward moment follows, in which you consider your options. You could defeat Ronny in an epic battle, or you could just let him in, and enjoy the party.

You quickly devour the ham sandwich, and wash it down with the strange monster-mutation potion, while at the same time, tossing the ocelot bait towards the wildcat. Then, using your multi-weapon tech, you discharge the net, auto-shotgun, AK-47, death ray, and glue at the feared wildcat. Then, with your crocodile and chia pet in tow, you rush the woodland feline with your karate skills, while listening to country music. You somehow manage to accomplish all of this within the course of a few moments. It?s very impressive.

Unfortunately, impressive does not necessarily translate into successful, and this point is driven home when the ocelot comes out of your salvo completely unscathed. It waits for an opportune moment between your karate attacks, and then leaps at your torso, performing a flawless punch attack with it?s front left paw. Your body is thrown several feet, and the ocelot lands on it?s hind legs in what you swear is a human fighting stance. Then much to your amazement, the ocelot stands tall, and addresses you in a loud, clear voice.

?I applaud your courage human, if it were not me you were fighting, you might have actually succeeded!?

?You can talk?? you sputter, dumbfounded.

?Of course I can talk!? the ocelot responds. ?For I am Ocelot Prime! The very template from which all other dreaded ocelots were wrought! An ocelot master, if you will.?

?That doesn?t explain why you can talk,? you reply.

?Foolish human,? the ocelot responds. You?re about to die by my sharp claws and impossibly great skills, and all you can think about is the fact that I can talk? Shouldn?t you be begging for mercy or something?? With that, Ocelot Prime starts walking towards you, with the obvious intent of killing you dead. And considering the fact that he survived your first salvo with nary a scratch, he?s probably perfectly capable of doing so without much trouble. What should you do?

In an effort to throw Ronny off guard, you ask him about his evil plans.

"My evil plans?" Ronny shouts, "Hah! It's so clich? for the villian to discuss his plans with the hero! Surely you must realize that, and just as surely you must believe there's no chance I'd tell you what they were! Well, I don't know what kind of strategy you have going on in that puny brain of yours, but just to spite you I'm going to tell you exactly what my plan is! SO THERE!" Ronny emphasizes his point by pointing his gun.

"So what is it?" you ask, impressed by Ronny's logic."

"All I gotta do is suck the good out of this dimension and ship it off somewhere else." Ronny explains.

"Of course!" you exclaim, "It's so obvious! It's all so clear now!" You take a moment to let the thoughts collect in your mind, then begin: "That's the reason why some of my adventures inexplicably start sucking! It's not some weird theory about omnipotent people at keyboards! It's you! You're sucking the goodness right out of reality! That's just evil."

"That's right!" Ronny shouts, "Every time your adventure suddenly takes a sour note, or every time the narrative switches tenses, it's me, and my sucking machines!"

"Tell me. Where are you shipping all the goodness? What are the coordinates?"

"There are none." Ronny explains, "I really have no idea where the goodness goes. We don't even use a matter transporter. The crates of pure goodness just vanish as soon as they're filled up."

"A dimension without coordinates?" you ask retorically, thinking aloud, "Sounds like the Legendary Dimension."

Ronny smiles. "Don't tell me you belive in that nonsense. There's no legendary dimension. There's no dimension that's impossible to reach. They're just mantaining their security by using a remote transporter."

"Enough talk." you say. "I know now what my true quest is, and the first step is defeating you."

Thinking quickly, you pull out your "instant door" kit from Acme. You slather the paint onto a nearby wall, creating a dimensional portal that will transport you to a location of your choosing. You dart through the entrance, just as the demonic Pokemon arrive at your location.

You laugh as you see them attempt to follow you, but instead merely bash their little yellow heads against the wall. It's not every day you get to witness that beautiful of a sight.

Since you haven't chosen your dimension yet, right now you're walking in a black area with a "star road" underneath you. OK, this is a little surreal, but no weirder than anything else that's happened today, right?

You decide to walk along "star road" for a while. Off in the distance, you can just make out a moustached plumber being chased in a go-cart by a huge green turtle with orange hair and spikes on his shell. Of course, the banana peel left by said plumber causes the turtle to fall off the edge and get picked up by a orange creature floating in a cloud with a fishing rod.

How odd.

You are so enraptured by the strange chase that you almost don't notice the green dinosaur that's standing in front of you. Of course, it almost doesn't see you either, as it's busy eating apples with one of the longest tongues you've ever seen in your life. Then, when you do actually spot each other, a peculiar staring contest ensues.

Maybe someone needs to stop playing so many video games.

"Look, buddy," you protest, "you know darn well that nobody would be cutting the line if you could actually do your job correctly and be a bank teller. So you're really the one who's responsible here."

"I am not!" protests the Timberlake look-alike. "It's the bank's fault for not hiring more staff!"

"Well if they hired competent staff they wouldn't need as many. What's the matter, you couldn't get a job as a pop singer anymore since your music sucks?"

"That's not true! I'm loved by teenage girls the world over!"

"Not nearly as much as you are loved by guys in rainbow bars."

"Shut up, both of you!" says one of the lions. "Keep it up and we'll have to eat you both, which doesn't strike me as particularly pleasant because then we'll get indigestion."

"Well, what do you suggest that we do, Mr. Lion?" asks the teller. "We can't just let him get away with this."

"That's your problem, not mine," says the lion. "I think it's about time for me to take a nap, myself."

"No! You can't take a nap! You've got evil-doers to eat!"

While the teller argues with the lions, you notice that he left the door to the safe open, specifically the one behind the teller counter. If you're quick and sneaky, you should be able to get away from this confrontation and get yourself a whole lot of free money.

You choose the most attractive looking apple at the supermarket and, completely omitting the cheese and oranges, you leave the supermarket with the apple with plans to take it out for the night of it's life.

You take it to the fanciest resteraunt withing a 1,000 billion nanometer radius. You treat the apple to the most expensive meal on the menu.

Finnaly, when you feel the time is right, you gather up your courage, display an engagment ring, and propose to the apple. The apple just sits there for the longest time.

Longer

Longe still.

After a few days, you finnaly take a hint that the apple doesn't accept. Heartbroken, you grab the apple and throw it out the nearest window. (Wow, great trowability) Then you procede to grab some dinamite, stick it in the apple, and ignite it. It blows up spectacularly spreading apple guts in every direction. (Wow, great explode abilitly.) Finnaly, you gather up all the apple guts into one great pile, and attempt to set it on fire (after adding lighter fluid ofcourse.) The Pile instantly erupts into flames. (Wow, great flamability.) You stand over the flames, laughing maniacally.

"If I can't have it, now one can"

Well, you've performned your experiment, now we must gather the data.

Flamability: Good

Explodability: Good

Throw ability: Fair

Ability to feel love: Apperantly not so.

You submit the expirement to the science community/cult with the following conclusion.

"Apples may seem warm and friendly on the outside, and even so on the inside, but on the inside of the inside, they're mean and rotten to the core.

"Possible sources of error are as follows: 1) Despite my extreme genius, I'm still a moron. 2) I don't know what the hell I'm doing.