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During the mid-1990s a young man made his way from Peru to the United States, escaping from the oppressive government of Alberto Fujimori. That young man was Parca Mortem. Earlier in his life he had worshipped comedians like Myron Cohen, and Stanley Myron Handelman. But raised in a totalitarian dictatorship, the only course for him at maturity was to become chief torturer for Peru’s secret police. Fleeing the “Shining Path,” Parca soon arrived in Los Angeles. After taking a Berlitz course in Pigeon English he combined his knowledge of sadism and comedy, and created the “Bizarre Movie Review” website, beloved by masochists the world over.
Now he has written a story which promises to be condemned by the United Nations as human rights abuse. So sit back for the next 10 hours, and enjoy “MasterPutz Theater’s” presentation of:
THE RETURN OF RBB: A TALE OF TERROR.
EPISODE ONE: The Phantom Lawyer Menace
CHAPTER ONE: The Offer a Lawyer Could Not Refuse
Richard B. Bernstein sat alone, surrounded by walls of TV sets, all tuned in to wrestling shows or really bad sitcoms. He had a few books lying around the floor, but they were all trashy romance novels and generic comic books, not to mention a "Family Circus" anthology. There were a few books around there that he found interesting: several law encyclopedias from different eras and countries, some literary classics, biographies on lawyers he admired... Unfortunately for him, these were all stuck to the ceiling, and the ceiling was 55 meters above the ground. There were no doors, and the TV sets were all stuck together, with no space between them. Occasionally a couple of the channels would change... to broadcasts of Pat Robertson. Sometimes they liked to toy with Richard, and the TV set would change to fake live broadcasts of the presidential elections, where the winner would be Jerry Fallwell, Jesse Helms, or, worse of all (for RBB), grundle. They would all give LONG acceptance speeches. Naturally, Richard was pissed. He was in some sort of torture limbo. It wasn't Hell exactly, because none of the religions got the afterlife right. Unfortunately, Richard did not now what the heck was going on either. And that terrified him the most, because for once he had to admit that he did not now everything. The though of it made him want to die. Except, one problem: he was already dead. At first he had merely become a ghost, like most former Crankylanders, when they pass on. However, he got greedy and decided to possess someone, because, dammit, you cannot allow so much incompetence to be said in Crankyland, and you just HAVE to do something about it. There's only so much that grundle can say without having the dead roll over in their graves and eventually get tired of so much rolling over and wanting a way to stop all that damn rolling (hey, who said that corpses had it easy? Have you ever slept in a coffin? They create tremendous back pains, and worse if you sleep in them for eternity). But, alas, he was discovered, and those that he thought were his allies (or, well, something along the lines, faaar down along the lines) had betrayed him and cast him out. So, where do ghosts go when they're kicked out of bodies, instead of leaving voluntarily? Good question. I don't know either. But I do know that if those ghosts happened to be lawyers, they would wind up in the torture chamber that Richard was in.
Being the fanatic of lists, and not having much else to do, Richard started to list all the Crankylanders, or at least those that still seemed to hang around Crankyland that he could recall (including some mistakes). "Badtz Maru, Beast, Bickle, Bulworth, the Casino mafia, CreepFreakLoser, D_Magic, Discord, Drew Atreides, Eamon J. Doyle, Emerald, Fierce Molly, the Fuckwit, Gnostic Dogma, Godmother, Hairhead, Homeboy, Junk Yard Dog, Masked Loser, mendo, Mr. Wonderful, grundle the fuckwit, liquid sunshine, Mystery Man, Parca Mortem, pRoDiGy, Pvt. Gump, Sailor Uranus/Two Women "Escaping" in a Phone Booth, Scorcese Fan, Simon, skilly, soc, speaker4dead, technomage, tralala, Veruca, Violet, Wulgar, X-Closet Homosexual, xyz, Zorro, Mr. Cranky and Hans. Damn, this could be a number one hit if I get someone to repeat the list and calling it "Mambo # 6" or some crap like that." Thus proving once again that pop music is mostly inspired by beings from hell or some place similar to it. Or lawyers.
However, most of his thought did not go to pop music, but to torturing those he mentioned (although he could have killed two birds with a stone and just tortured everyone by actually creating that song and getting it played on the radio 24-7). And this did not go unnoticed. Actually, three beings were following him and his thoughts closely, very closely. Not that he knew about them, though. That is, until the day they appeared before him.
For no reason, one of the channels switched to porno. Very gay porno, as a matter of fact. Upon seeing the screen with the gay porno on, Richard's first reaction, of course, as would happen to any other former Crankylander, was: "Hey, isn't that X-MAN?" As he started to observe the screen in odd curiosity and disgust (much like anyone who sees anything by X-MAN feels), suddenly one of the penises started to grow out of the screen, bulging through it, as if the screen were made out of latex and the penis was trying to break free while it grew and grew. Richard's shock incremented, which he expressed in the following manner: "I am not really a homophobe, but, fuck, this is so totally gay and I am out of here." Not that he could actually run to anywhere. Furthermore, all the other screens were playing reruns of "Who Wants to Marry a Multi- Millionaire", so there wasn't much else to watch. To make things odder, three large, black tadpole-like things shoot out of the penis and into the room. They never touched ground, and instead flew around. The giant cock retracted immediately. The three beings flew around in several circles at high speed, as annoying as flies (or X-MAN).
Then, without warning, the three just stopped in front of Richard, and hovered above the ground. They had large yellow pupil-less eyes, rough skin, large sharp teeth, and a wicked smile.
"Hi Richard", one of them greeted. "How did you like having your mind fucked with for a little while?"
"Who are you? And are you aware that it is illegal to fuck with a lawyer's mind? According to 18th century politician and theorist Nathaniel Hardingsworth, and supported by the 1975 case of Exthor vs Some Guy Named Dave, a lawyer has the undeniable right to-"
"Cut the crap, Richard", interrupted another of the beings, in his slightly low pitched, nasal, grating voice that they all seemed to have. "We are the tAiztgyutu, free spirits of havoc and revenge."
"And the NRA!" added another.
"What do you want from me?", RBB asked.
"To help you help us help you get revenge!" said one of them.
"My god, what has 'Jerry Maguire' done to the English language!" muttered Richard.
"A hole was created, a rift between Earth and the Eternal Punishment. Grundle just retracted one of his statements and apologized! He altered the structure of the world! That means that one of us can cross over", one of them explained.
"However, the hole is in Crankyland, and only in Crankyland. That means that only one who once dwelled in Crankyland can go there."
"That means YOU, Richard! And we will allow you to return, and have your revenge!"
"And we'll give you powers!"
"Powers!", repeated a surprised Richard, much in awe.
"Powers, for massive destruction and mayhem!", they told him in excited unison.
"Cool", said Richard, before smacking himself in the head and realizing that he had watched too much bad television, which was lowering his culture. "Sure, sure, get me out of here! And let me teach those bastards a lesson!"
"Yes, we will." It turned to the others, and then turned back quite quickly and came into near contact with Richard's face. "Have you ever seen 'Freddy's Dead'? Just like him, we will give you powers so as to kill by altering reality."
"I haven't seen that film. I usually do not watch horror films", Richard replied.
"WHAT?! You don't watch horror?! Well, now you WILL!" Two sharp tentacles sprang out of its body and incrusted themselves into Richard head through his temporal bones. "NOW you will watch over 1000 horror films!"
Richard screamed in agony and his eyes went blank while his body shaked, floating above the ground, with the tentacles still in his brain. In a few mere seconds he was watching hundreds of horror flicks at the same time, from "The Toolbox Murders" and "Friday the 13th Part V", to Italian and German horror, to Hong Kong and Japanese horror, through all the Hammer and Val Newton films, anything Roger Corman has been involved in, and 'adult' horror like the original "The Haunting" and "The Sixth Sense". A horror fan's wet dream, but for Richard more like a bloody nightmare, an incredible headache.
Then, it stopped. The tentacles were removed, Richard was dropped. He grabbed his head and lay on the floor, still in pain.
"Now, Richard: you are a writer. We will give you the ability to rewrite! Screw around with the Crankylanders identities, what they have read, what they have made, and torture them with that until they die! And now you have over a thousand horror films to draw inspiration from. What you've seen in a horror film, you can incorporate into reality, in order to kill."
"Got it?" they said in unision.
"Yes", he said feebly.
A fire went inside his eyes. More consciously, he said again "yes".
"Yes", in a stronger tone.
"Yes", now with a wicked smile.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!" he shouted, laughing maniacly.
"Great, but keep your orgasms quiet, okay?" one of them sneered.
With that, they left. Richard had a million ideas. His head was still messed up. Yet among the flood of thoughts he had one that he could see very clearly. He knew who he was going to target first.
grundle...
CHAPTER 2: The Bloodbath Begins - Because it is a Small Small World After All!
"Hey ma, why is it that posters that no longer hang around here like CFL always make it to every fanfic, and sometimes guys everyone hated, like LUKE, yet we're never in the fanfics?" said Hazel-Rah, in an all-too-cute voice, with globby puppy eyes straight out of a Disney animated puke-fest.
"Yeah, Ma, why?", said the also cute geodesy.
"Hey, listen, fuckers, for the last time, I'm NOT YOUR FUCKING MOTHER!" Mr. Cranky hated it when posters started to see him as a father figure, and he hated it more when they saw him as a mother figure.
Hazel-Rah and geodesy started to cry.
"Oh, so now you are CRYING, huh? Well - I know what will cheer you up!" Cranky smiled liked a Grinch. He pulled out a tape. "'Chairman of the Board'!"
"AAAAAAAAAAA!!!" screamed Hazel and geodesy, and they ran off.
"Fuck it, I hate it whenever posters come bitching to ME about some damn POSTER's fanfic. What the FUCK do I have to do with it!? And worse, why do they always act like little kids when they come in here?"
"Maybe its because you gass them with that substance that you stole from the people at Mousketeers", Hans offered. "You know, you should be careful to not spray too much of that stuff or they will become the next Brittney Spears, Cristina Aguilera, or a boy band."
"YOU IDIOT! THAT'S THE IDEA! I WANT to make the Cranky-boy- band, the "Rather than Watch this Film I'd Prefer be Rammed in the Backdoor Boys"! How the fuck ELSE do you expect me to pay for this site? With revenue from AMAZON? Like if they ever paid anything! Look, I'm resorting to IGN ads, I'm desperate!"
"Yeah, but maybe you shouldn't hammer nails through their feet. I mean, particularly when they're acting like cute kids."
"Hey, the only thing more fun than insulting stupid little kids and people acting like stupid little kids (like Adam Sandler) is to actually torture them. Now, bitch, shut up, clean my towels for the massage, and clean up the blood!"
"Yes...s-s-sir", Hans said, about to cry himself.
"Awwwwwwwww, I broke your feelings again? Fuck it, have fun, go delete another interesting forum."
Hans eyes lit up like fireworks on July 4th. "YES!" he said.
"Oh, and make sure you don't do another commercial for Mentos!"
Before Hans could reply, his throat dissappeared. He tried to grab his throat, but his right hand dissappeared. Vanished. No blood, just these odd gaps where a part of his body used to be. Hans observed in horror as his left shoulder was next, then his ass, his feet... His whole body was slowly going into thin air. He went on observing in horror - that is, until his eyes dissappeared as well...
"Did you hear that, bitch? Huh? Hans?" Cranky waited for a reply. Only silence came back. "Hey, bitch: reply!"
More silence.
The lights went off.
"Hey, what the fuck is going on here? Are you trying to turn me on again, Hans? Listen, for the eleventh time this week, it takes more than what you've got to stimulate my giant, purple dick. In fact, I'm whipping out my purple one eyed monster right now so that you can worship it and get the fuck away!"
Of course, as in the cliches that Cranky hates, whipping out his cock was Cranky's biggest mistake of all his life (although "Phantom Menace" fans disagree), and, his last mistake. A lightning quick rain of nails came flying at him out of nowhere.
"What the-" That sentece was cut off by screams of agony, as the nails all landed in Cranky's penis, nailing it to the chair Cranky was sitting in.
"Sta- Sta- Stallone... is that you? Listen, I-I was jok-ing the 156 times I ca-alledyou a fucking midget..."
"Wrong guess, mother fucker", said a voice that came from a figure behind the shadows.
"Who-"
"To kill the sheep, it is best to kill first the sheppard", the man behind the shadows said.
"Uh?"
However, Cranky realized what he was talking about when the figure lept through the air, landed on his legs, and produced one big, blood-drenched, maximum duty, Grade-A power drill. He understood even better when the drill was applied to the object that was between his legs, covered in nails. You read that right...
Was...
CHAPTER 3: An unwelcome visit.
It was a sunny day, and Beast and Lionel were heading out of Frank's DVD & Videotape Shoppe for the Obscure, the Bizarre, and the Bloody.
"YES!" said Beast, with much glee. " 'Nekromantik 2' is MINE, ALL MINE!!! Now, to play excerpts of it tomorrow on my show, after the new Anal Cunt CD."
"Uh, great", replied Lionel, who was looking at his own purchase than anything else.
"Oh, sorry. What did you get?", asked Beast.
"'Day of the Dead: the Thai/Bavarian Cut: More Blood and Brains and Zombies doing the Nasty.'". Lionel went on reading the label. "'From the same guys who brought you 'My Dinner With Andre & Ricky-Oh: the Key Grip Cut' and 'Wizard of Oz: the Uncensored Version'.' And all for only $5 and a human liver."
"Oh yeah, you are welcome for the liver."
"Hey, who's liver WAS it anyway?"
"The one guy who called my show and requested the new Hanson 'song'."
Lionel was about to ask Beast how the fuck he tracked the guy down, but was cut short when a blood-drenched speaker4dead stumbled on to them and ralphed on a maggot-infested cat that was lying on the street next to them.
Beast was bewildered. "Hey, where did that cat come from, and how come we didn't notice him before? I mean, you would think that we would have noticed the SMELL or something. This looks like if it is straight out of another lame slasher flick."
"Uh, guys?" speaker4dead moaned. "I just threw up here, and it wasn't for nothing. I have a message to deliver."
"Wait, wait, let me guess. If this is a slasher flick, then you are going to tell us that some psycho escaped from prison after killing his gardener 25 years ago, and now some guy dressed up as a butler and wearing a scuba mask has just killed some girl who was taking a shower, with pruning shears", Beast said.
"And now this is turning into 'Scream'", Lionel added.
"No, no, no, no..." Before speaker could add another negative, he entered into convulsions.
"Oh, wait, it is 'Alien'", Lionel corrected himself.
"No, he probably just heard the new N'Sync CD", Beast offered.
speaker started to growl: "I AM A CREEP, I AM A FREAK, AND I AM A LOSERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Suddenly smoke jumped out of speaker's mouth. It started to form into a word. Before anyone could make out what word it was, another word-like smoke formation jumped out. And another one. And another one. And another one. Then speaker to blow smoke like an erupting volcano, and thousands of word-like smoke formations poured out at full force.
"What, no blood? I mean, what's a volcano without lava?", asked Beast, although his words were drowned out by the sound of the erupting smoke.
Another 27 seconds later, the eruption stopped. However, the smoke was still there. In fact, all the smoke-words started to cling together. They kept on sticking to each other, more and more, making some sort of formation (not unlike teeny-boppers outside of the Mtv studios, only that less annoying). First a leg appeared, then another leg. Then an arm. Part of a head. Eventually, a full body was formed. However, it was a very short body. And despite all the words it was made out of, it didn't have much inside.
"It's, it's, it's..." Lionel started to say.
"It's a friggin' midget!" Beast completed.
"Oh, then we are in a European indie art film", Lionel observed.
The short apparition roared. "I AM NOT A MIDGET! I may be a creep, a freak, and a loser, BUT I AM NOT a MIDGET!"
"CFL?" asked Lionel.
"Yes, the one and only - not counting trolls", the ghost replied.
"So, CFL, what brings you here?" inquired Beast.
"Ahem... YOU'RE DOOMED, YOU'RE ALL DOOMED!" CFL shouted in his whiny voice.
Lionel was unimpressed. "Yeah, we all know that Joel Schumacher is doing another movie. So?"
"No! That's not why I am here! It's... RICHARD B. BERNSTEIN! He escaped the beyond! And he wants... REVENGE!"
The message sent a shiver down Beast's hairy back.
"So... what is he going to do? Is he going to..." Lionel broke off with a gulp, but then resumed. "SUE US?"
"Oh, no, nothing THAT bad. He's merely going to kill all of you." CFL responded.
"Oh", replied Beast.
"Listen", CFL said in a calm yet eerie voice, "he already started. He broke out a few days ago. He tracked down Mr. Cranky, and tortured him to death."
"How?" inquired Lionel.
"RBB forced Cranky to do everything he always said he would do in his reviews: pull out his sockets, rip his uvula, wipe his ass with razor blades, eat tacks, drink drano, put a drill into his head, set himself on fire..." CFL broke off. "Damn, do you know how many types of damage you can do to a penis?"
"DUDE, yourz like SO HOMO!" shouted Simon, who just happened to be passing by in a bicycle, heading off to watch 'Smackdown' at Mr. Wonderful's parents' house.
"Is he still here? Ugh... Anyway," CFL went on, "Cranky was not alone. Hans was... well... he was... uh... he was..."
"What?" asked Beast.
"... DELETED!"
Lionel and Beast stared in awe.
"The most fitting death", commented softly an impressed Beast, still sour after the multiple times 'Jason vs. the Spice Girls' was erased.
"So with Cranky and Hans gone, no one can stop Richard. He's going after all of you. He will-"
-------------------------
COMMERCIAL INTERLUDE
(This is the part I (liquid-sunshine) like. He’s talking about ME!)
Hi, boys and girls and trolls! Do you feel depressed? Are you jealous because your fan fics are the only ones that no one in Crankyland gives a fuck about? Are you pissed because your insults are so lame that rather than feel offended, Crankylanders just scratch their heads? Are you a hypocrite? Do you only dwell in basement forums because you never get any attention in the active forums? Are you a film student who painstakingly writes reviews about films that everyone has seen, yet no one ever gives a crap because everyone has already seen those films and your reviews are just like several hundred other 'official' reviews? Do you not have a life? Do you want to get attention at last?
WELL... NOW YOUR CHANCE! Yes! Just copy these fan fic chapters and post them in every forum, and then make fun of them (or try)! People at last will start to read your comments! You may perhaps even get responses other than "whatever"! You will get popular and famous and really, really, really hurt the feelings of the author! Seriously! He'll go suicidal within ten minutes! And you might even get laid at last! SO... GIVE IT A TRY!
[Warning: in reality, you will still be ignored and no one will give a fuck about what you are saying]
NOW... back to our scheduled programming!
---------------------------------
"Wow, that's interesting info", replied Beast. "So THAT explains all the beheaded trolls we've been seeing around. I particularly liked the one that was hung by his own large intestine."
"Yeah, but how the fuck do we stop him?" asked Lionel.
"I would tell you, but I can't explain anything in less than 5000 words, and you still wouldn't understand me, and I don't have much more time..." said a fading CFL.
"Well, I have an ax, and I'll be damned if I let a pussy UNDEAD SLASHER get to me! They all suck ass!" A fire lit in Beast's eyes. "I mean, this isn't even an original idea!"
"Yeah... but what would you expect? It's another damned faaanffiiiiiiiic*" CFL faded away, back to oblivion.
"Huh. He's gone." Lionel was somewhat afraid, but mostly unimpressed. "That's the shortest thing CFL ever said!"
Suddenly, speaker's body got jolted up, like a puppet suddenly being pulled by its strings. His mouth was wide open, but it did not move. Yet sound started to come out. It was the whiny voice of CFL.
"WAIT! WAIT! I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU MY 5 HOUR LONG REVIEW OF 'FINAL DESTINATION' WHICH IN MY OPINION SUCKED!"
As smoke started to pour out of speaker's mouth again, Beast and Lionel looked at each other in disgust. Then, after a pause, they smiled. Beast pulled out an ax that he just happened to bring along, and Lionel just happened to find a lawnmower blade lying in the ground, which he picked up. Beast nodded, as the light started to shine threw the blade which Lionel was holding.
A quick coordinated whack later, speaker4dead's head had been severed from both sides. As his blood started to shoot up out of his neck in full force like water from a broken fire hydrant and rain on the sidewalk, the smoke vanished into thin air.
"Cool, blood!" added Beast gleefully.
"Don't you get tired of saying that?" asked Lionel, wiping off the blood from his shirt and the blade.
"Actually, I have a feeling that I'll be saying that for quite a while around here, with Richard on the loose", replied Beast.
Or perhaps, not that long at all...
------------------
NEXT CHAPTER: THE BLOODBATH BEGINS! or... Richard goes into
'edit' mode.
Remember to ask your mom to buy our next comic, kids!
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