Alright, lots of fun, had myself a good couple of days. First up, Gorilla Awesome didn’t manage to track me down again. Don’t know how he found me the first time, as I know little about gorilla physiology. I also don’t know a whole lot about advanced gorilla technology. I suppose I should take a more proactive role in discovering the secrets of this world. After all, if there is some sort of, I don’t know, hidden advanced society of talking gorilla geniuses, I owe it to myself to find it and steal their most vaunted of knowledge. They must have truly kickass shampoo.
You won’t believe how hard it is to keep a moving Moai hidden in the middle of a city, but you’d also not believe how little people want to see when it could be dangerous to them. There was this one time a cop asked about it, but I played dumb and slipped some money to a beggar. Did such a good job, the cop went on psychological leave and the beggar got a tip. I know he wanted a full cup, but something tells me a bottle works just as well when it’s Mad Dog 20/20.
But you didn’t show up here to read about me bribing a war veteran with liquor, now did you? You wanted to read about that, you could have looked in your own newspaper to find out how your royalty, your monarchy, those kings and queens elected and hereditary, were treating you sad sacks in real life.
You can probably tell by now I’m a little pumped. It was good times.
The good times started rolling when I had stepped through the door of the forgettable pawn shop that only got famous because someone put a TV show on them. Triple X Dirty Pawn or something like that. Tile floors, a counter on the far wall with display cases running alongside it and a door to the back nearby. Shelves of merchandise and furniture forming aisles. Right from the start, people sensed trouble. Maybe it was the smile. Do you ever smile when you’re about to really hurt someone? I do sometimes.
First up was the security guard near the door. Not your standard uniformed rental either, this guy was more like a bouncer. I didn’t have anything fancy on me to hit him with so instead I whipped a chain across his face and caught the end in my fingers, then give him a second taste with a punch. Why the chain? As you can tell from the way I chained the door closed with his throat caught in the chain, it was to prevent people getting away easily. Customers started to get all screamy like “Oh my god, I want to live!” You hear one mob of terrified people, you’ve heard them all, know what I mean?
Another guard bullrushed me as I got to the end of the aisle, slamming me into a bunch of shelves. I grabbed the nearest thing at hand, a DVD of Mary Poppins. Poppins, you fool, you were no help whatsoever! Neither was the DVD of The Man with the Golden Gun when I tried to chop the guy across the neck with it. A punch from him sent me to a little better area where I grabbed a blender and beat him across the face with it. I took advantage of the moment to plug in the blender and set it to mulch some vegetables which meant the guard’s following punch was an ill-timed maneuver on his part.
The guys behind the counter tried to make a break for it through the back. They found their way blocked by my magic Moai, who was sporting a giant balaclava over its head. Due to a slight spelling error, I nearly had a hell of a time at a bakery trying to find him a pasty that fit. This time I had him accompanied by the song “Bad Boys”.
Bad boys, bad boys, whatchu gonna do, whatchu gonna do when we come for you?
If you’re this one thicker dude with a leather jacket and receding hair, you apparently pull out some old katana hanging on the wall and come after me with it. I was hit or miss on the improvised weapons so far, so I slammed the blender into a darkened glass case near me. The man with his hand stopping up the blade screamed as it was also put through the glass. With all that whine, you’d think I hadn’t paid off the homeless man yet. I found something with a grip inside and whipped it out.
In my hand was a vibrator. I could work with that. Ladies.
I slapped the blade out of the way as he charged and threw the humming piece of metal and rubber straight into his eye. I grabbed the sword’s hilt with both hands, put my leg behind his, and threw him over, taking the sword away. He crawled back, trying to get away, but wound up right by “Fingers Mahoney” or whatever that guy was going to go by now.
Still, I maybe needed him. I only ran the sword through his jacket sleeve to pin him to the base of the display. Unfortunately for Fingers Mahoney, he was between the sleeve and the display. Congratulations, red shirt, you’ve been rendered Jewish. Lehaim!
The woman behind the counter was screaming her head off, so I tried to snap my fingers and failed but pointed to the woman anyway. A relatively gentle headbutt from my main man the Moai sent her sprawling over the counter.
“Who in the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?” asked the guy with the receding hair below me.
“Me? I’m just someone looking for my stolen property. Power armor, some odd machinery, I doubt you have the scraps that were with it all though. Aside from that, I don’t give a fuck about your store…or the people in it,” I said, feeling a roll coming on, “I don’t give a fuck about you. I don’t give a fuck about this toaster here,” I grabbed a toaster off a shelf, “I don’t give a fuck about these gems,” I tossed the toaster through the glass of another display case. “I don’t give a fuck about your couch,” I jumped onto a couch for sale and stepped all over, “Seriously, fuck your couch!” I scraped my boots off on it then hopped down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone approach, something in hand, so I stared intently at a microwave on a nearby shelf. “See this lovely piece of electronics? I could turn this into a weapon. It could be a heat ray or a death ray or a guy named T-Ray, but you know what?” I grabbed it and whirled around, smashing it on the head of the guy sneaking up on me. He was down, the gun falling out of his hand, “I don’t give a fuck! Hey buddy, the only way to stop an idiot with a gun is a competent guy with an appliance. Now, where was I?” I raised my hand up as if to read off the palm, “Oh right, speech about not presenting intercourse…”
“I don’t give a fuck about your employees,” I turned and slapped the waking woman laying on the counter across the face. She was out again, “Don’t give a fuck about your security,” I ran over and gave a particularly loud slap to the struggling guard chained to the door. Then I pointed at a shocked old woman nearby who was holding a yap dog in her hands, “I don’t even give a fuck about this old granny!” I stepped over to her and grabbed the Chihuahua out of her hands, “Hey granny!” Then I did my best impression of my favorite natural wonder, Slap Granny Falls. Well, it was more like Yip! Granny Falls with the dog in my hand. And just for good measure I threw the dog in the trash. “That dog? Don’t give a fuck.”
“What I do give a fuck about is my armor. I am death with a smile, I am the retroactive cause of your mother’s migraines, I am the puta punter,” I am a huge ham with lots of cheese, “I make nightmares wet the bed, and I will shatter your world with this leafblower if your will doesn’t get bent to my desires right now!”
“Jesus fucking Christ, already. The armor is in the safe in back. I can get you the keys.”
“No need. Moai, you know what to do!” I said to my faithful companion. It dipped forward and back to nod at me, then rotated and hopped into the back.
“What about the rest of it?”
“Ok, we sold the belt separate to these guys looking for a prop for their trucking show. Truck Your Mother. The rest of it, the machines that were like little factories, some cooking show, Christ, they bought those since they’re in town. They’re called Caking Orgasms.”
“You ever think that if you had a show that was really interesting, you guys on reality TV wouldn’t have to use porn names to get people to watch?”
Just then, a wail that could induce vomiting shattered the glass on the door, then the windows next to it, then everything made of glass in the shop in a line toward and past me. I didn’t care about covering up. Shards of glass bit into my face and drew blood, but I saw my enemy clearly as he stepped through a window with his blue suede shoes and the green jumpsuit with a sequin tiger on the back.
The Honky Tonk Hero had arrived, magic guitar in hand.
“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Now it’s time to give it up. You can’t beat me, baby. The Honky Tonk Hero is here to take care of business, in a flash!” And he sounded exactly like you’re imagining. Well, not whichever one of you is thinking Scottish for some strange reason. Come on, man, have some dignity!
I threw the leafblower I was holding at him and then I grabbed the trashcan nearby and tossed that as well. He knocked the blower aside lazily with his guitar, then tipped his shades down to light the trashcan with heat vision. It caught fire with a yipping sound. The can itself fell away, leaving the burning yap dog to fall into Honky’s hands. The old lady woke up right around that time as well. Seeing the burning dog, she teared up and clutched at him. I made a run for the back, sliding over the counter and smacking the reawakening woman across the face again and causing her to remember to scream.
My suit and helmet came flying at me from the side. I caught both, turned, and saw Moai hopping towards me, a crushed and warped safe in the corner of the room. “Good going! Now let’s get before he puts out that spicy taco dog!”
And now, for my next impression, Jesse Owens.