After our altercation with the undead hipsters, I climbed into the passenger seat of Jim Daniels’ car. Officer Reed, Dr. Porter, and Eve were in the back seat. Jim had a tight grip on the steering wheel as the car hurled through the city streets.
“Where are you going?” Eve asked from the back seat.
“The only way I can go,” replied Jim. “The only road out of the city.
“There’s only one road out of this city?” I asked. “Who planned that?”
“Don’t ask,” Officer Reed said through his teeth.
“Well what if those things figure that out?” I asked. “We have to be ready for a trap.”
“I told you I was able to study these things,” Dr. Porter said. “The only brain functions they have left are rudimentary at best. They’re only able to recall basic memories from their past like their favorite flannel shirt or pointless pop culture trivia. I can’t imagine they’d have the capacity to set any sort of trap.”
The car screeched to a halt as Jim jammed the brakes. “Can’t set traps, huh?” he nodded towards the fallen tree in the middle of the road.
“Of course, I’ve been wrong before,” Dr. Porter mumbled.
“It’s just a tree that fell,” Eve said. “They couldn’t have done it, could they?”
“Maybe we can move it,” Officer Reed suggested.
“Well let’s see,” I said as I stepped out of the car. Officer Reed followed me out and we surveyed the tree.
“It does look like it was pushed over,” Reed said. “I don’t see anyone else around here though. Certainly not those things.”
“Yeah, this doesn’t quite make sense,” I agreed.
From out of nowhere, long, tattooed arms grabbed Reed and hauled him into the darkness. He shouted in surprise as I cursed under my breath and gave chase.
The policeman was pulled down into a small ditch where eight or so of the undead creatures stood around, mostly with their hands dug deep into their pockets. If I didn’t know how dangerous they were, I’d think that they were just standing around slacking. I quickly pulled out Betsy and Winona and fired at the head of the one holding Reed.
The creature released its prey as its head exploded. Reed quickly recovered from his initial shock and sprung into action, firing at more of the scenesters with his own firearm.
“What do you have there, man?” one of the hipsters asked. “I heard that 10mm is the new 9mm.”
Reed responded by shooting it in the head. A bloodied trucker’s cap fell to the ground and the policeman hauled himself up the hillside to where I was standing.
“That was pretty cool,” another said as he lunged towards us. “Wait ‘til I tell the guys in my band about this. We’re kind of like Death Cab before Death Cab sold out.”
Reed and I responded with a hail of gunfire to the hipster’s head.
We clamored back up the hill to see the rest of the gang standing at the edge of the road waiting for us.
“What happened?” Eve asked.
“Don’t ask,” I shook my head. “There’s more blood down there than a Rob Zombie movie.”
“Heh, I liked Rob Zombie before Rob Zombie was cool,” Reed laughed.
“Let me look at you.” Dr. Porter ran up to the policeman. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” Reed answered. “Must’ve happened when that thing grabbed me.”
“We still need a way out of here,” I said. “There’s no way we can move this tree and I think we need to get out of here before more of those things show up.”
“There may be a way,” Officer Reed said. “I know that the construction vehicles circumvented the main road when Happy Valley Mall was built. I’m sure those access roads are still there.”
“That’s right,” Jim punched his fist. “We can get on those access roads and take them to the next town.”
“Yeah, but how many of those things will know about those roads?” I asked.
“I think we’ll be OK,” Reed said. “People generally don’t go to that area to begin with. It’s out of the way and blocked off.”
“Well then, let’s try it,” I shrugged.
“But first, I’m checking out that scratch on your neck,” Dr. Porter told the policeman.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Night of the Living Hipsters, Part III
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 16:18 8 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: Night of the Living Hipsters
Monday, July 28, 2008
Night of the Living Hipsters, Part II
“I’m Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, presidential candidate. I’m here to rescue you.” I reached my hand towards the quartet. “Come with me if you want to live.”
“Wait, what did you just say?” asked Officer Reed.
“I said I’m here to rescue you,” I said.
“No no, that last part, what was that?” the policeman pressed.
“Uh, you mean come with me if you want to live?” I asked.
“Yeah, where’d you get that from?” Reed questioned me.
“That sounds like from a movie or something,” Dr. Porter added.
“Yeah, I’m sure I heard that from a movie as well,” Eve nodded.
“Well sure it might be from a movie or something,” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that I’m here and I’m going to get you out of the city.”
“Just her?” Jim Daniels threw his thumb towards Eve. “How come you’re just saving the pretty lady?”
“No, I’m here to rescue all of you,” I insisted.
“Well you looked right at her when you said you,” he groused.
“Well I mean you plural,” I replied. “I’m not going to say ‘y’all’ or something. I guess I could have said youse guys, but I stand on the fact that I’m here to rescue all four of you. There’s just four of you, right? Is there anyone else still in there?”
“No, it’s just us four,” Dr. Porter replied.
“OK, good,” I nodded. “Let’s get going then.”
“So you said you were an intergalactic gladiator, does that mean you have a rocket ship or something?” Officer Reed asked.
“Well I do, but I don’t have it here right now,” I answered.
“What kind of an intergalactic gladiator doesn’t have his own rocket ship?” the policeman laughed condescendingly.
“I said that I do have one only it’s just not here,” I replied. “The Danger Sled’s getting her three thousand light year tune up.”
“Getting a what?” Eve asked.
“A three thousand light year tune up,” I repeated. “You wouldn’t believe the wear and tear that ship gets.”
“Well how are we going to get out of here?” Dr. Porter asked.
“My car’s right over there,” Jim pointed. “Let’s make a break for it.”
“What, that old thing?” Dr. Porter grimaced at the vehicle sitting in the lot across the street.
“Hey, that’s some classic muscle right there,” Jim answered with a touch of pride. “You want to make a break for it in a Prius or something?”
“No, that’s fine, I guess,” Porter replied.
“We better move it, double time,” Officer Reed exhaled.
The five of us started running towards the car; I took up the read to guard our movement. Halfway across the street, Jim lurched awkwardly and clutched his knee. He continued to run to the car though he clearly was in pain. Grimacing and cursing under his breath, he reached into his pocket for his keys.
“Where are the keys?” Eve cried desperately.
“I got ‘em,” Jim growled.
“You didn’t have them ready?” Dr. Porter threw her hands up.
“I got ‘em,” Jim repeated as he rifled through his pocket.
“Latte…” a voice mumbled from someplace near. “…Need latte…”
“…Arctic Monkeys…” another mumbled.
“They’re here!” Officer Reed shouted.
Out of the darkness, more of the undead hipsters emerged.
“Everyone, in the car!” I yelled as I leapt onto the hood.
“Oh wow, that’s cool,” a shambling hipster mumbled sarcastically. “I wish I could jump on a car like that.”
“Yeah, I’m going to post a message about it on the avclub board,” another mumbled. “Lame-o dillweed pwnes car hood.”
“Hey the Dukes of Hazzard called, they want their lame bit back,” a third said.
“You’re referencing the Dukes of Hazzard? Weak.” The first said as he shambled towards us.
“What-ever,” the third replied.
“Stay back!” I warned. I fired a shot from Betsy over their heads.
“A laser gun?” the second one looked blankly. “That was kind of cool.”
“Shut up,” said the first.
“Well it was,” the second responded.
“Don’t make me do this,” I warned as more hipsters trudged out of the darknes. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“They’re not alive anymore!” Dr. Porter shouted while leaning out the window of the car.
“They’re not?” I called back.
“I’m sure of it,” she replied. “I looked at the test results at the clinic!”
After a moment’s consideration, I fired at the lead hipster. He clutched where I shot him and howled, but he didn’t go down.
“You’re gonna have to aim for the head!” Jim Daniels shouted from the driver’s seat.
I took aim and shot the same scenester in the head. The creature clasped the wound with its rakish claws then fell flat to the ground.
“Punch it!” I yelled.
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Jim jammed the car into reverse. I almost tumbled off, but I clasped onto the window frame for dear life. The car spun around, batting the undead to the left and right, then Jim punched it into drive and peeled off down the street.
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 06:26 9 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: Night of the Living Hipsters
Thursday, July 24, 2008
“They’re still out there,” Eve said with a shudder.
“Yeah,” Jim Daniels replied with a grunt. “I don’t imagine they’re going anywhere.”
“It’s like the whole city is affected,” Eve added solemnly.
“All my years on the force,” Officer Reed shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this. The way they’re shambling out there… stumbling back and forth. It’s like they’re not there you know. It’s like they’re not alive anymore.”
“I don’t think they are,” Dr. Porter added. “They were alive once, but not now. It’s like some sort of sick, twisted mockery of life.”
“Chris is out there,” Eve murmured, unable to understand what was out in the streets.
“The man you knew as Chris is gone,” Jim replied as he put his arm around the young woman to console her. She buried her face in his immense shoulder.
“I don’t know how it happened,” she sobbed. “We’ve known each other for so long. We were talking about getting married… But then I saw him with his skin all pale, and those marks all up and down his arms. He was mumbling and his hair and... and I couldn’t tell what was wrong until it was too late.”
“It may be too late for all of us,” Officer Reed groused.
“Yo man, the ladies here do not need to hear that kind of an attitude,” Jim growled back loudly. “We’ll get out of here somehow.”
“Oh are you going to get us out?” Reed replied. “You’re a long way away from your glory days in college. How’s that knee holding up?”
“It works, that’s all that matters. This is my place. There’s a door in the back, maybe we can get to my car.”
“Then what?” Reed asked. “Where will we go? I don’t even think we’d get ten feet out the door before those undead… things get their hands all over us.”
“Well we’ve got to do something,” Dr. Porter stepped between the two men. “We’ve got to get out, warn anybody out there.”
“What if we’re the only ones left?” Eve’s voice cracked.
“Then it’s going to be a long night,” Jim replied.
“Or a short one,” Reed laughed.
Suddenly something plastered itself on the front window of the youth center. It had greasy, unruly hair shooting out from under a trucker cap. It was pale and the tattooed arms twisted in odd angles. The gray hoodie was tattered and the tight jeans had holes in the knees.
“Brains….” it mumbled. “Or… coffee…”
Eve screamed at the sight just before Jim could pull her away. More of the creatures shuffled towards the window, clad in secondhand clothes, Chuck Taylors, Bohemian dresses, black T-shirts, pork pie hats. Some of the creatures had colored hair but all of them had hair that was greasy and disheveled. Almost as if their last human thought was to make it look like they didn’t put any thought into it at all.
“Coffee… good,” mumbled another.
“Or PBR…” another mumbled.
“Coffee… Coffee shop.”
The creatures all made some silent agreement and the mass shambled off towards the corner coffee shop.
“Now’s our chance,” Jim growled. “Through the back door.”
As they rushed to the door, it flung open. A silhouette stood in the doorway. For the briefest moment, the survivors thought it was all over, but then they soon realized that whoever this was, he must not have been affected. He wore something more like a futuristic outfit, like an odd fusion of spaceman and cowboy. Slung low on each hip was some sort of pistol – some kind of weapon that was not of this Earth.
“I’m Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, presidential candidate,” I said as I reached my hand into the room. “I’m here to rescue you.”
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 06:45 6 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: Night of the Living Hipsters
Monday, July 21, 2008
Hudson: My Candidate of Choice
When I look at all the candidates running for President of these the United States, weather they are Republican, Democrat, Green , or Simian, I know that I have to make an intelegent choice for who will lead this our country in the next 4 or 8 years of the future.
If there’s one thing that Private Hudson is known for, it’s making intelegent choices. That’s why I’m working through the candidates one by one to determine who is the best choice is.
Green Party – Ha ha ha. No seriously. I like green, it’s great for camouflage, but otherwise whooptee-freakin’ do, I’m impressed. Oh by the way that was sarcasm. Their presidential candidate punches cops and the vice president candidate is a poet or something. Now you know the H-Man (that’s me) loves poetry, let me tell you about this one I know about a guy from Nantucket sometime, but is she going to bust out some dope rhymes the next time she gets in a strategy session with congress or something?
Barrack Obama – I don’t like this guy. He’s never served in the military so how’s he going to know how to command them? Plus he’s doing all that terrorist-like chest thumping with his wife. What’s that all about, man? I’m keeping my eye on that guy.
Dr. Zaius – Well he’s smart, so I guess he’s got that going for him. But do you really want a monkey as president? No way, man. No way. Game over. ‘Cuz you know those moneys are crazy. You think you took care of one of ‘em and then there’s another and then another and then pretty soon they’re comgin out of the walls, they’re coming out of the gorram walls and you’re like get out of here you stupid moneys or I’ll squash you like a stupid bug. I hate bugs.
John McCain – At first glance, this would seem like the choice to go with. He was in the military and he’s considered a bit of a “maverick” in his own party so you think he wants to think on his own. Oh wait, a pilot that’s a maverick, huh? Where’s did I hear that one before? Oh yeah, a maverick pilot is a bigger stereotype than a dumb marine, and you know that’s not true. I’m smarter than the average bear. McCain’s got really short arms, too. Maybe that’s why he crashed all those planes, he can’t reach the buttons.
Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator – I’m with Jon all the way, and I know what you’re saying, you’re saying “But Private Hudson, you and Jon are best buds and stuff. Of course you’re pulling for him. He went to Hell to rescue you that one time and you and he saved Queen Galacta from the Zerg that one time, too.” Yeah well too bad for you, pal. Jon’s got what it takes to lead this country ‘cuz he’s a man of action and he kicks butt and chews gumm all the time except I never seen him chew gum I don’t think.
That’s why in this crazy universe when you want someone to be president of the Unitred States of America on planet Earth, I’m choosing Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator. He’s got what it takes to lead the country right, man. Stop your grinnin’ and drop your linen, he’s the man for the job.
Yeah , sure he may seem like he’s got an overinflated sense of self importance like he may say that he’s some sort of juncture of realities or something, but that’s OK ‘cuz George Bush Sr. thought he beat Communism all by himself.
And yeah, maybe sometimes you’re all like “Hey Jon, I just got a new M41A pulse rifle with standard 30mm grenade launcher you wanna go down to the range and shoot some stuff?” and he says “Sorry Private Hudson, but I’m saving the universe again,” and then you say “But it looks like you’re just playing Madden2008 on your computer,” and then he says “Yeah, and I have to beat the hated Green Bay Packers by 70 points or all reality will totally die.” And you don’t really believe it, but then you shrug and you’re like “Well OK.” And you know something isn’t right like with what he said but you’re like whatever.
And maybe he’s not the smartest bomb on the rack because there’s that one time he left me tied up in a closet for like three days while he flew off to Pennsylvania with a guy that had a mask on to look like me, but he’s pretty smart like the one time he figured out how to shoot that one giant robot in the ear. Who else woulda thought of that? No one else, that’s who.
So that’s why I fully endorse Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator for president of the United States of the America.
Game over.
Posted by Private Hudson at 14:29 13 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: Presidential Campaign, Private Hudson
Friday, July 18, 2008
Meet Dave
Dave: So I said “I didn’t even know it was guacamole.”
(laughter, rimshot)
Dave: Hear that Paul? I said “I didn’t even know it was guacamole.”
Paul: Got it Dave.
Dave: Funny stuff, that guacamole is.
Paul: Right Dave.
Dave: You like the guacamole?
Paul: Sure do. Eat it all the time.
Dave: Fun times at the Shaffer home, huh?
Paul: Ha ha ha, you got it, Dave.
Dave: Ha ha ha ha ha. Yeah. Speaking of guacamole and good times, I think we’re going to have a special treat for you tonight. Rumor has it, that in the hallways of this very building, is none other than one of the presidential candidates.
Paul: Is it John McCain?
Dave: Ha ha ha. No. No, not John McCain.
Paul: Is it that Dr. Zaius cat?
Dave: No, not Dr. Zaius either.
Paul: Well who is it?
Dave: Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator.
Paul: Oooh. I heard that he saved the Earth once.
Dave: Big deal. I saved the Earth, like, twelve times last night.
Paul: Twelve times. Really?
Dave: Yup. Seriously though, Jon’s close by and we’ve got a page fetchin’ him.
Paul: Fetchin’ him.
Dave: Yup. And we’re gonna try to get him in here for a few minutes. What? He’s here? He’s right out there? Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, everybody! Hey Jon, how’s it going?
Jon: Hey Dave. Wow it’s cold in here, get a load of my nipples.
Dave: Ha ha, right. Say, you want to play with the band?
Jon: I sure would. I even brought my own cowbell.
Dave: Great, let’s hear it.
Jon: Time has come today
Young hearts can go their way
Can't put it off another day
I don't care what others say
They say we don't listen anyway
Time has come today
(Hey)
Oh
The rules have changed today (Hey)
I have no place to stay (Hey)
I'm thinking about the subway (Hey)
My love has flown away (Hey)
My tears have come and gone (Hey)
Oh my Lord, I have to roam (Hey)
I have no home (Hey)
I have no home (Hey)
Now the time has come (Time)
There's no place to run (Time)
I might get burned up by the sun (Time)
But I had my fun (Time)
I've been loved and put aside (Time)
I've been crushed by the tumbling tide (Time)
And my soul has been psychedelicized (Time)
(Time)
Now the time has come (Time)
There are things to realize (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time [x11]
Oh
Now the time has come (Time)
There's no place to run (Time)
I might get burned up by the sun (Time)
But I had my fun (Time)
I've been loved and put aside (Time)
I've been crushed by tumbling tide (Time)
And my soul has been psychedelicized (Time)
(Time)
Now the time has come (Time)
There are things to realize (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time [x4]
Yeah
Dave: Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be right back.
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 14:14 6 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: Presidential Campaign
Monday, July 14, 2008
iDoodle a Blockade Boy Slashpic
Blockade Boy, the master of GWF (Gay Wall that Falls).
Everyone I know digs GWF, so I don’t know how some people think that it’s niche. It’s like those women who stomp on mice with high heels, except nicer because those cute little guys don’t get smashed. Doesn’t that look hot how that one dude is squished like that in the picture? I know I’m a little turned on, and I’m more of a SWF kind of guy.
Some people may think that I am pandering to the GWF crowd in my presidential campaign. All I know is that there are a lot GWF enthusiasts out there (look in the personals section, you’ll see GWF everywhere) and their voices deserve to be heard too, and if I’m the hearer of that voice, then so be it.
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 07:56 11 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: iDoodle
Friday, July 11, 2008
20 Questions and Friends
RAMIREZ: And before we go today, something's been bugging me. A couple of days --
JAMESON: Well, go back outside.
RAMIREZ: We will. A couple of days ago, when most newspapers in America were doing these positive stories about how 20 Questions News Channel, once again, number one --
JAMESON: Like the Daily Bugle.
RAMIREZ: -- for many, many years. There was a hit piece by a certain Intergalactic Gladiator. The writer was a fellow by the name of Jon, and he's been doing a bunch of attack stories on 20 Questions News Channel. Well, there's some back story to it, and that is this: he’s got a friend, Dr. Zaius. Dr. Zaius actually used to work for this company. He worked -- I think he once had a summer internship at 20 Questions Medical Journal until circulation went down under his tenure --
JAMESON: Right.
RAMIREZ: -- something like, 8 percent. So, he got fired, and according to a website, this guy has had an ax to grind.
JAMESON: Yeah, he does, because, I think, Hector, according to reports -- according to a website and another online magazine -- he was making close to six figures here, and now with his new job –
RAMIREZ: Six figures?
JAMESON: Well, around six dollars.
RAMIREZ: Yeah.
JAMESON: -- he's making significantly less. How about a tenth of that?
RAMIREZ: So, anyway, some online web page on the Internet says he's had an ax to grind, and that's this costumed maniac is going after us -- to do these hit pieces. So, he essentially is this attack dog. This -- this poodle, if you will.
JAMESON: So --
RAMIREZ: Oooh! Very, very nice. And we all know how Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator verbally attacked this news channel just this week.
JAMESON: He’s a costumed freak, too. I can’t stand ‘em, can’t stand any of them.
RAMIREZ: Yeah, well he’s a freak all right. He’s a circus clown, if you ask me. In fact, I think he’s got somewhat of a different job at the circus.
JAMESON: -- Hah, he looks like an elephant’s butt because he was photo manipulated into one. We have unlocked the mystery on these two costumed freaks.
RAMIREZ: Anyway, we just thought we'd -- cute. I wonder if Zaius is going to show at Westminster this year.
JAMESON: I'm not really sure. We know a beagle won last year, and this -- he's dressed as a poodle.
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 13:59 5 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: 20 Questions, Presidential Campaign
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
On the Campaign Trail
“Welcome back to 20 Questions and Friends, I’m Hector Ramirez. We now join Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator on the campaign trail as he makes a stop at a local school to talk to the kids.” |
“OK kids, today we have a special treat. Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a presidential candidate and is here to speak to us today. Everyone give a nice big Oak Knoll Elementary School welcome to Jon.”
“Hi Jon!”
“Hi kids. It’s great to see you here today. All your bright and shiny faces. You really are the future and that’s cool. OK, as your teacher said, I’m running for President. The President runs this country and that’s what I want to do. I think I can make the United States a better place for you and your brothers and sisters and friends and your parents and everyone else.”
“Do you carry a gun?”
“Well sometimes. I work in outer space and that’s a pretty dangerous place. I need to protect myself but I don’t want to hurt anyone, that’s why I use stun. Can you kids say stun?”
“Stun.”
“Good job!”
“Can I see your laser gun?”
“I’m afraid not, it would be too dangerous.”
“Mr. Jon, do you think you will continue the current administration’s policies of blood oil and whittling away at the Constitution or will you go the other way and spend billions of tax dollars on energy programs that just won’t work?”
“Wow, that’s a tough question. All I know is that $4.00 for a gallon of gas is way too much.”
“Mr. Jon, my dad says that the wheels of Washington can’t be stopped and an outsider candidate like you with no ties to big money has no chance of getting elected.”
“Wow. That’s a lot for a little kid like you to say. Let’s just say that I think I have a good shot, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“Who are you running against?”
“Well, there are a lot of candidates out there. There are a couple monkeys, though I’m pretty sure one of them dropped out of the race. There’s a scientist. There are others, I can’t recall any of their names off the top of my head at the moment.”
“Hi dada!”
“Hi Paxton! How’s my guy?”
“Do you wear underpants?”
“Of course I wear underpants.”
“A ha ha ha ha hah ha!”
“What’s so funny? Oh, is it because I said underpants?”
“A ha ha ha ha hah ha!”
“Alright, knock it off…………………. Underpants.”
“A ha ha ha ha hah ha!”
“Settle down, children, stop laughing when someone says underpants.”
“A ha ha ha ha hah ha!”
“I said settle down. There, that’s better. Mr. Intergalactic Gladiator, I have a question for you.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“On 20 Questions and Friends the other morning, they said that you and some of the others running are just joke candidates and you’re taking away from the serious candidates and the serious issues.”
“Really? They said that?”
“Yes they did. Hector Ramirez also wondered if this was a presidential race or a circus and he said you were a clown.”
“I’m a clown really? Well, I think Hector’s just being silly. He’s probably getting a little antsy for viewers seeing as how his ratings are down.”
“I bet you’re right, he is a rightwing jerkbag ratings whore.”
“Miss Crandall! I am shocked that you said something like that. I mean it’s true and Hector’s a pretty big moron. Remember when he tried to open Bugsy Malone’s vaults? Wow, what a maroon, what a dope—”
“…………………………… We’re going to take a quick break. When we come back, Carol’s going to have tips for keeping your pet cool in the summer.” |
Posted by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator at 10:49 5 Intergalactic Communiqués
Labels: 20 Questions, Presidential Campaign, press conference