Sunday, March 19, 2006

   Comix Time!
Howdy, y'all! I'm Flint, and I'm allowed to say "howdy, y'all" and not sound rediculous. It's Sunday.

Man, oh man, does ol' Flint like comic books. Do you like comics? Probably. I'm really into "Invincible" now. If you're looking for something good to read, I suggest it. Also, I need about 80 bucks for an "Absolute Watchmen" hardcover. Anyone?

Somtimes I wonder what my life would be like if I had superpowers. It certainly wouldn't be as dull as it is now. I'd build a house on the moon, and spar with Godzilla. Hey, I just got an idea! I have nothing else to write about... why don't I just tell you what my life would be like if Flint Marco was America's favorite Superhero!

BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT, I'M ASSUMING!

*Flint Marco was an average joe living a normal life, until a cosmic gamma lightning bolt struck him. The blast granted him all the powers he could ever imagine ever, but also killed his Uncle Ben, who was then shot several times by burglars and mutants. It was then that he pledged to protect a world that hates and fears him!*

Here comes FLYNTSTONE! (created by Flint)

{Lo, true readers! As dawn breaks in the city, an eerie glow casts a haze upon the land with which it touches. The locals do not notice, as they go about thier buisness. This is where our story begins, at the house of Flint, simple photographer/journalist/both.}

FLINT: My, what a happy day! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping... nothing about today sucks!

{As Flint walks gown the "sun"-drenched sidewalk, another shadow follows him...}

VOICE: FLINT...!

FLINT: ...oh, crap...

{Flint turns slowly to face his worst fear: Gabriella, the town gossip and all-around spaz has spotted him, and surely she intends on making conversation with our hero! Quickly, Flint's mind races with excuses to get out of this predicament...}

GABRIELLA: Hey, Flint! Stand still, I wanna glomp you!

FLINT: ..."glomp"? How droll.

GABRIELLA: Glomping is the only way to show my true feelings for you!

FLINT: Look, what do you want? I'm late for work.

GABRIELLA: Don't you wanna talk to me?

FLINT: Not really, no. If I don't get these pictures of Flyntstone, followed by the subsiquent sit-down interview I got with him, to whichever newspaper I work for, my boss'll have my head!

GABRIELLA: But, I got some juicy gossip! The Masters of Mayhem are back in town, and I hear-

FLINT: Shut up!... Just shut up! I gotta go!

{Flint quickly leaves Gabriella and heads for his place of work. Little does he know that, at that very moment, in the hidden catacombs of the city, the Masters of Mayhem hold their weekly meeting! The rabble of evil-doers take their seats and talk of evil deeds, as their leader, the mysterious Battlebot, takes to the podium.}

BATTLEBOT: Silence! The Masters of Mayhem meeting is now in session! We will discuss the newly-instated "Darkness Twilight" law, which requires an evil deed be done at least three times a week-

WOLFSTER: Does anyone besides me think it's weird that we're villians, and we make laws for each other?

BATTLEBOT: SILENCE! Now, before I was interupted by Carpetman-

WOLFSTER: I'm Wolfster.

BATTLEBOT: Whatever. We will now go through the role. When you hear your name, say something. Okay, let's get started... Soviet Croc, reptillian terror of Moscow.

SOVIET CROC: Da. Here, tovarich.

BATTLEBOT: Okay. Carpetman, the shag who walks?

CARPETMAN: Here.

BATTLEBOT: Queryman, questioning quack of Queens?

QUERYMAN: Question. Is Queryman present? Answer. Yes, right here.

BATTLEBOT: ...thank you, Queryman. Let's see... Wolfster, the Wolf who feeds on Gods?

WOLFSTER: Ri'cheer!

BATTLEBOT: ...Okay, that rounds out the list. On to todays' topics. First, has anyone noticed anything... peculiar about the sun today?

(collective shrug)

CARPETMAN: I noticed it's orange. I looked up at it and-

WOLFSTER: You LOOKED directly into the sun?! Do you want to go blind or something?!

CARPETMAN: I mean, it looked weird, so I wanted to get a better look-

BATTLEBOT: Shut up, both of you! It just so happens that I blew up the sun yesterday night, and replaced it with a device that causes people to eat more.

CARPETMAN: ...So, what?

QUERYMAN: Question. How does this concern me?

WOLFSTER: This mean I get to eat more ding-dongs?

CARPETMAN: You eat enough as it is!

QUERYMAN: Answer. It does not, as I do not eat.

BATTLEBOT: Shut up and let me finish! You guy know how America's going through this whole "Fight against Obeisity", right?

(uncomfortable silence)

WOLFSTER: I don't keep up with current even-

BATTLEBOT: See, I make all of America eat. They gorge themselves uncontrollably on cheeseburgers and milk for months. When half of them die of Heart failure, the other half will surely want to know why they cannot stop eating! That's when we step in, and hold America's collective health as ransom! We'll make so much money!

WOLFSTER: Cool. In the meantime, we gotta deal with a populace of morbidly fat guys? Hey, don't get my wife with those eating rays. She's fat enough.

CARPETMAN: I like a thick woman.

QUERYMAN: Question. Who likes Slim Jims?

CARPETMAN: Not too thick, though.

QUERYMAN: Answer. I likes Slim Jims.

BATTLEBOT: In the meantime, We'll need to guard this machine, which powers our fake sun. Questions?

(silence.)

QUERYMAN: ...Ques-

BATTLEBOT: Don't.

{We turn now, back to our hero, Flint, as he heads for work.}

FLINT: ...Man, why am I so freaking hungry?

{Flint takes a look around. A man is eating a basketfull of kittens. Two grown men fight for a chicken bone. A group of pedestrians eat away at a bus.}

FLINT: Okay, why is everyone eating everything? Better use one of my superpowers to find out what the hell is happening.

(Using his super hearing, Flint hears Carpetman's endless bickering with Wolfster over guarding the Fake Sun machine. His X-Ray telescope vision confirm their location.)

FLINT: Hmmm... The Masters of Mayhem have rigged the sun to make people eat uncontrollably. Guess this is a quest for... FLYNTSTONE!

{Ducking into a nearby bathroom, Flint changes into his awesome Flyntstone costume! Using his ultra- strength, he burrows into the ground, right into the lair of the Masters of Mayhem!}

BATTLEBOT: Flyntstone?! How did you find us?!

FLYNTSTONE: Blame Carpetman.

BATTLEBOT: Carp-Pet-MAAAANNN!!!

CARPETMAN: Wha'di do?

BATTLEBOT: Silence, imbecile! DESTROY HIM!

{Quickly, the Masters of Mayhem surround Flyntstone. The first to strike is Soviet Croc!}

SOVIET CROC: You are going to fall harder than the walls of Germany never should have!

FLYNTSTONE: Sorry, Croc, but I'm putting the big hurt on you, Capitolism-style!

{Flyntstone makes quick work of the reptillian Marxist, to no one's surprise. Next up, Queryman attempts to confound our hero with mis-logic!}

QUERYMAN: Question. Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit?

FLYNTSTONE: Anywhere he wants, right?

QUERYMAN: Answer. Ask him.

{Queryman than introduces a 500-pound guerrila soldier, who is quickly beaten by our hero.}

QUERYMAN: ...Not the Face!

{The Questioning Quack is konked by our main man. He is then suddenly surrounded by those loveable ne'er-do-wells, Carpetman and Wolfster!}

CARPETMAN: I'm taking you downtown, junior!

WOLFSTER: Yeah, to Chinatown!

CARPETMAN: ...I hate that line! I wanted to keep it at "Downtown", you dope!

WOLFSTER: I figured you just forgot the rest, so I finished it for you! What, now you're all mad at me?

CARPETMAN: Yes! Here I am, about to fight my arch-enemy, and I bust out with some corny line like "Downtown to Chinatown"!

FLYNTSTONE: You two are idiots. That's why I'm gonna enjoy this.

{Flyntstone beats the two furred felons like mere punching bags. He then turns his attention to the leader of the gang himself, the Battlebot!}

BATTLEBOT: Wait, wait! Do you realize what'll happen if you shut off this machine?

FLYNTSTONE: ..Everyone stops eating?

BATTLEBOT: Yes, but also, the world will be thrust into perpetual darkness! I destroyed the sun to create this thing, remember?!

FLYNTSTONE: Hey, we can do without.

{Flyntstone grabs the Mechanized Malcontent, and throws him as hard as he can into the Fak Sun machine. The impact shatters the Sun machine into peices, along with it's foul creator. Flyntstone flies to the surface, his job done. The world is, indeed, black as night. Panic runs through the streets.}

FLYNTSTONE: Well, I may have just doomed the Earth to a twilight that will last forever, but at least nobody's eating kittens, so, job well done, I suppose.

-The End-

Thrilling, right? Look for more issues of "FLYNTSTONE" nowhere, because the comic doesn't even exist.

I'm out. Later.

-Flint
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