Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Midnight in the Hoegaarden of Good and Evil

Meanwhile, True Believers, at "The Fox and Hound" All-Star Game Party...

Comma McOsborne: "A toast! A toast to the success of Comma, Inc.!"

McFlunkie #1: "No, Comma - DON'T! Don't drink the Hoegaarden! It hasn't been properly tested yet on the masses! We don't know the effects...!"

Comma McOsborne: "Bah! Damn your tests! Stocks of Comma, Inc. have been plummeting! This secret blend of Belgian Ale, hops and orange slices is the only thing that can put us back on top!!!" (McOsborne chugs the Hoegaarden to the utter horror of the other party guests.)

Sometime later, after several Hoegaarden secret potions have been consumed, at the Executive Suites of Comma, Inc.

The Hoegaarden mask (hanging on a chair): "Goblin, come out and play...!"

Comma McOsborne (stumbling into the room): "The voices! Those voices are speaking to me again! Damn it, what do you want from me...?"

The Hoegaarden mask (hanging on a chair): "You know what I want, Comma. You KNOW what must be done! WE have to set things straight!"

Comma McOsborne (in his well-stitched silk pajamas): "No, stop it! You know I can't! Stop speaking to me! Damn you, stop tormenting me!!!"

The Hoegaarden mask (hanging on a chair): "Look at you! You're worthless and weak! They're all laughing at you - LAUGHING!"

Comma McOsborne (crumbling to his knees): "No - NO! They're laughing WITH me! Why can't you see that-? What do you want from me...?"

The Hoegaarden mask (hanging on a chair): "I want you to do what's RIGHT! What MUST be done, you sniveling Society of Professional Journalists' reject! Unless, of course, you want to wind up like Gib Shanley! Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!"

Comma McOsborne: "Noooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!"

Later, at the offices of "The Daily Futile"...

Peter Chaqer: "Mr. Mulready, sir, I've got some great pics of my good friend, Your Friendly Neighborhood Blogger-Man!"

J. Jonah Mulready (chomping on a cigar): "Blogger-Man, huh-? Sounds like a menace!" Surveys the pictures. "Pics, huh-?" Throws them in Peter Chaqer's face. "These are crap, kid! Bring me something I can use!"

Peter Chaqer (slumping): "Yes, sir..."

J. Jonah Mulready: "Wait, kid! I changed my mind. I'll give you 300 bucks for them..."

Peter Chaqer: " Really-? Well, sir, I was kind of hoping for a job..."

J. Jonah Mulready: "No jobs! FREELANCE! Just the thing for a kid your age..."

Just then, The Green With Envy Goblin comes bursting through the wall of "The Daily Futile" riding his goblin glider with glee.

The Green With Envy Goblin: "Ah, ha, ha, ha! Hello, my pretties! Sorry to interrupt your staff meaning - but I'm on deadline! I'm going to get you - and your little Dufala too!"

J. Jonah Mulready: "Hah! I KNEW it! The Green With Envy Goblin and Blogger-Man are in cahoots together - trying to take over our fair city!"

Peter Chaqer: "No, it's not true! Green With Envy Goblin - What are you doing here? You've been downsized!"

The Green With Envy Goblin: "Downsized, huh-? I'll give you DOWNSIZED!"

The Green With Envy Goblin throws one of his patented Pumpkin "bombs" into the lap of Peter Chaqer.

Peter Chaqer: "(Gasp) Tell - tell Julie E. Washington I loved her, middle initial and all...!" (KABOOM!!!)

J. Jonah Mulready: "The Green With Envy Goblin - he's mad! Mad, I tell you!"

The Green With Envy Goblin sweeps through the offices of "The Daily Futile" on his glider amidst screams of well-staged fright. Columnist Connie Shultz stands and screams in horror, "My baby, my baby! Somebody save my baby!!!" as The Green With Envy Goblin swoops in and grabs The Pulitzer SurPrize right out of Connie's tightly-clenched fists: "I'll take THAT, Toots!"

Connie Schultz (shrugging): "Ah, well. Easy come, easy go."

Dick Feagler: "Balderdash! This sort of thing would have never happened at The Cleveland Press!"

The Green With Envy Goblin grabs Dick Feagler by his goiter and carries him off into the dark, Cleveland night: "I'll give you a full-court Press, Feagler, my fiendish friend! Right up against the side of The Sally Struthers School of Journalism building! Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Will journalism go completely gonzo in Cleveland? Will Dick Feagler be saved in time to write his next column on The Great Depression? Does anybody even care? (Nah, it's Cleveland - we get our "comedy" on the outside...) To be continued in "The Amazing Sphincter-Man # 36"


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