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Phil, Part-Time Monster Killer

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Hangover [07 Jul 2004|05:03pm]
Ahh, my fuckin head is fuckin killin me and shit.
"So you've finally woken up."
"Aw, man," I says as I look around, "What time is it? 2:00"
"It's almost 5 o-clock," says the Bishop, "Do you know what today's date is."
"Yeah, it's the day after my birthday, it's April 20th, I've got some.. things I need to take care of today."
"Actually, it's July 7th. Do you have any recollection of the last 2 months?" said ole Bishie.
"Yeah, it was my birthday and I went out drinkin' with my friends. The goddammed Yeti had just bought me this wicked shot and then it kind of got fuzzy for a while. How'd I get to this place?"
"You are in a Catholic detox center, Monster Killer. But it wasn't easy getting you here. For the last 64 days, agents of the Catholic Church having been tracking you across the globe as you have gone of an alcohol-filled rampage across the globe. During your bender you stumbled through ancient Mayan temples, vomited in line for what you thought was a ferris wheel but was in fact Reagan's funeral."
"The Gipper is dead. Nooooooo! I never got to say goodbye, unless I actually did but was, in fact, too wasted to remember." Man, news as depressing as the death of the President makes me want to go get a drink.
"When the Church finally located you, you were.. " The Bishop looked as if he were a little uncomfortable describing my awesome plastered adventures, "how should I put this.. you were becoming intimate with the Great Wall of China in an attempt to knock it down for your Mongolian brethren."
"Damn, I'm awesome. Honoring my Mongolian heritage and all."
"You are 1/64 Mongolian."
"Yeah, but that 1/64 is all heart!"
The Bishop sighed and said, "I'm just glad we found you before you made it over to Great Britain."
"Wouldn't have been so Great after I be done with it," I said, cause even wasted I would have cut down those smarmy tea drinkin' fuckers. "So when do I get back to work?"
"You have to stay here for 48 hours till most of the poisons get out of your system, then a team of doctors will check you over to see why that much alcohol didn't end up killing you. Following that, there will be an official board of inquiry and I'm afraid it looks like the Church is going to decide to let you go."
"WTF, yo! They can't just fire me for one little incident."
"Normally, I would agree with you on this, Monster Killer. But most 'little incidents' usually don't stretch over 5 continents. As I'm sure you are aware, the Catholic Church is having some public relations problems these days and the Cardinals don't believe that having someone on our staff who goes on a 2 month leave of inebriation projects the best image of the organization on the whole. I'll try to plead your case but you will need to have God on your side to prevent permanent suspension."
"Hmm, God on my side. That might be kinda tough, you would think the Lord and Savior might show some favoritism towards the College of Cardinals." I says to the Bishop. Man, I just lost my job, my entire life has been crushed, it's like Reagan is still alive.
"You shouldn't worry about that now, you need to get your strength up. Stay here within the detox area of the Church grounds. I'll pray for you, Monster Killer," said the Bishop as he walked out of the room.

Okay, so maybe I was almost certainly out of work, racked up thousands of dollars of bills and had pressing criminal charges against me in 7 different countries but now I'm really pissed. Man, I just realized that I missed the theatrical release of the Chronicles of Riddick, now I have to go to the budget cinema or wait until the DVD release to see Vin Diesel in action against the evil Necromancers who wish to convert the whole universe to their cultish ways, kinda like the Anglicans. I've been missin' all the good summer movies, I bet everyone I know has already seen Spiderman 2 so I'll probably have to go see that alone looking like a goddammed child molester. At least I can take solace knowing that I still get to see wicka-wicka I, Robot starring Will "Legend of Beggar Vance" Smith, I just know the Fresh Prince is gonna go all up in those mechanical devils along the way saying hilarious things like "Damn!" and "Hell no!" whenever he is confronted by the next wave of mechas.

"Excuse me, sir," says some dude as he tries grabbing my ass.
"Whoa, dude. I don't know what has happened between the two of us in the last couple of months but I just want you to know that I was really drunk, otherwise I woulda been way better," I says tothe dude.
"Oh, we haven't committed sodomy. I'm just here to switch out your bedpan," says the guy who is now only slightly masking his desire to have buttsex with me.
"How'd you get this crappy job?"
"I didn't always work this hospital route. I used to be a Monster Killer until the Church threw me out after I went on a drunken binge. I tried to make enough cash to get by while I looked for a new job but Monster Killin' skills ain't that useful in other professions, I had to sell my TV just to buy food. Eventually, I had no where left to turn so I started selling myself on the street but then one day I came down with an STD and my balls had to be amputated, after I recovered the nuns here pitied me enough to give me a job cleaning up dying people's shit."
"Oh, snap! You had to sell your TV!" I don't know what it was about that guy's story but it seemed to remind me of my own situation. I needed to get my job back or else I would end up emptin' bedpans for the rest of my life.
"You know," said the dude who smelled like oatmeal and ratfeces, "If only I could have found a way to restore the Church's trust in me by going out and killin' a nearby monster so that they would know that I was still realiable but it's too late for that."
"No it isn't!" I yelled as I got up.
"Perhaps you're right, maybe I can still turn my life around.."
"I've got to go slay something," I started heading out of the room, "Oh, I think Ethyl vomited up the clam chowder from lunch, you might want to get that cleaned up."

Alright, so I had heard these strange moaning sounds from another wing of the hospital, it was obviously some sort of ghoul that was preying on the sick so I wondered through the corridors. It was pretty freaky, there were dark shades drawn over the windows and all of the doors were locked. Luckily, locks can't stand up to the power of my foot, or the fact that one door was left ajar by accident making it a good deal easier to kick in. But I could have knocked in one of those locked ones too, I was just trying to be all ninja-like. This situation was tense, I bet a similar level of tension was reached in The Chronicles of Riddick but since I wasn't able to see it, I can only deal with the situation using my knowledge of Pitch Black.

"Raaaaaaahhhhhhh!" yelled a skeleton-like beast as it leaped out at me. Nails that were red as blood tore into my back ripping my flesh.
"Holy fuck shit!" I screamed as I tried to throw it off of me. No use, that little bitch had a tight grip for something that was so bony. I tried shoving the beast into a wall but it didn't seem to be effected. The pain was getting really bad now.
"Sooo fllessshhyyy," it said as it tore one of it's talons into my shoulder.
Damn, I can feel myself beginning to faint now, maybe I have lost it. Wait, there's a food cart, if I can just reach the knife.
I make it to the tray of food, grab the knife and prepare to stab the creature but it now knows what is up and runs away scared. I run after it and tackle the bag of bones to the ground.

"Wait," yells a sexy voice as the lights come on.
"Whoa," I says as I look up at her, "You're Michelle Tanner."
"You almost killed my sister, Mary-Kate."
"Sorry about that, And Ashley."
"She's in here for treatment for her eating disorder, she only attacked you because she thought you were another photographer. Sorry, MK is a little loopy because of all the anti-depressants," said And Ashley
"That's why there is no light. At least she knew enough to run away from my knife."
"Actually, she was running away from the food, she was scared it would make her fat."

"So I tell you to stay here in your room and you go attack one of the richest 18-year olds in the world," says the Bishop as he escorts me back to my room.
"Holy shit! They are legal now, I should have put on some moves!"
"Now, the Olson twins are going to sue the Church for psychological damages, we can only pray for a settlement."
"But I did defeat a sick teenage girl, I should get my job back for that, right?"
"No, I'm afraid you won't. You are going to get on a flight tomorrow and go home. I will try to stop from getting excommunicated but you will never be employed with the Catholic Church again."
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Some fucked up shit happened today. [04 Apr 2004|06:40pm]
"My mission is to eliminate thee. Ay, thy will be done."
Awww, fuck. I was just walking on patrol in the cemetery and now this goddammed werewolf leaps out and wants to start some shit. Man, why werewolves gotta be frontin' like this?
"Prepare to meet thy Lord," said the werewolf.
"Oh yeah, prepare to meet my fist," I says as I punch him right in his face. I then whip out my 9 and load with vigorously with some silver bullets. Yeah, I kicked me some ass.
"My mission is to eliminate thee. Ay, thy will be done," says the werewolf as he gets up like one of those zombies in Dawn of the Dead. I had to sneak into it, but it was a pretty sweet flick. I expected more than one zombie but it was certainly more bloody than I expected. Mostly, it's just about some dude before he becomes a zombie, they beat up that guy for two hours and then he comes back, presumably to eat the living. I am forced to stop recollecting some flicks when that fuckin' undead werewolf leaps at me.
"Hold up, you was totally dead, werewolf," I mention to him.
"I doth not be thine typical werewolf."
"Screw this," I said as I shot him right between the eyes destroying his zombie brain. Yep, that's one fucking dead werewolf.
"My mission is to eliminate thee. Ay, thy will be done," says the werewolf as he lunges at me, whips out some big sharp ass vampire fangs and tries to suck some of my delicious and nutritious blood.
"Hey, duder," I says to the werewolf, "I think you forgot. You is a werewolf, ain't supposed to have sharp ass vampire fangs."
"Hah, tis thy reason for whence thou willst fall. Thou hast grown excessive-corrupt in thine seeing-eyes of thee Lord." Oh, that fucker did not have to bring God into this, even if I didn't really understand what he meant by that, I'm sure it couldn't have been good. "Thou technological devilry hath consumedith thou very soul?"
"Listen to that," I says.
"Pssh, what doth thou weakling human ears hear?"
"That's the sound of me not caring," I yell as I whip out a stake and stick it right in his heart. Aw, fuck, his blood is really fucking harsh, it's burning my skin, that's some goddammed heartburn, literal style, holmes. Now, that werewolf is most definitely, probably, dead.
"My mission is to eliminate thee," says the werewolf as he rises again, "Ay, thy will.."
The werewolf is interrupted as a some sort of bright-ass lightning comes out and vaporizes the Hell beast once and for all.

Where the Hell did that light come from? Did I just get some divine back-up from JC? Or did I just will it somehow? I wouldn't be surprised if I got the power to shoot beams at monsters, I'm just that sweet.
I see some movement on the top of a hill so I have to go and check it out, in case it is either the solution to my magic lightning problem or another foe to vanquish with my beam of light powers. I load a new clip in my pistol and start crawling up the hill. The brush keeps me concealed from view should another monster be up here but conversely, it also limits my own visibility. As I reach the summit, I can hear someone else crawling nearby. I leap out of the brush into the clearing with my weapon out just to find myself staring down the barrel of some weird ass-looking gun.

"Holy Poop!" says the thing holding the gun.
"Holy fucking ass shit-cock British dicklickin' cuntrag!" I says in return.
"Wow, this is kind of awkward. Um, hi, I'm Little Bob."
"Phil, Part-Time Monster Killer."
"Pleasure to make your aquaintance," said Little Bob.
"Likewise, you giant green penis."
"No, my phallic resemblance is merely coincidence. In fact, I don't even have a weiner, I reproduce by budding off from my neck. See, I'm an alien."
"You a Catholic alien?"
"No."
"Ah, normally, I'd get all pissed off but I just became tolerant of others a couple of weeks ago."
"Hey, that's super."
"Just as long as you ain't Angelican."
"No way, pal. I think their dental hygiene is disgusting and I don't even have tendrils, see, as an alien, I have mouth tendrils.."
"Look, dude. I'm all about your whatever things but I ain't here for no goddammed anatomy lesson."
"Little Bob, why didn't you report in on your walkie-talkie?" asked none other than Tom Brokaw as he walked up to us.
"Tom, you fried my talkie when you blew up that monster back there," said Little Bob.
"Whoa, it's mutha fuckin' Tom Brokaw. I love yo' shiznit on the NBC Nightly News. Why the Hell is you retiring? You could totally kick that Brian Williams guy's ass," I say to the esteemed anchorman.
"Actually," Little Bob said, "we have fought Brian on numerous occasions. See, he used to be allied with Dennis Rodman and Dick Clark and the Blue M&M, and Brokaw and I would fight them and any other evildoers who came along our path but the fighting as kind of leveled off.."
"Little Bob, who is this?" asked Brokaw.
"My new, good buddy Phil," said Little Bob.
"Part-Time Monster Killer," I added, cause I got to keep my creds out there.
"Monster Killer?" pondered Tom Brokaw, "You could be useful. I must admit that our own skills are limited when it comes to fighting the supernatural."
"We usually fight celebrities or aliens," said Little Bob.
"Phil, Part-Time Monster Killer, would you be willing to join us on a mission to save the Earth and lend your particular expertise in the field of creature eradication?" said Brokaw.
"Why the fuck not? I was just going to go have a pizza and watch cartoons but I guess I could save humanity instead," I says.
"Hurray, Monster Killer could stay in my room. It will be like a sleepover," says Little Bob.
"Quickly, then," said Brokaw, "To the Brokaw Compound!"

Then, Brokaw came over and grabbed me real tight. I was wondering why he was coming onto me so fast but I wasn't going to complain as he had a soft, gentle touch. Next, he grabs Little Bob and brings him into the hug, this is starting to get a bit freaky. But then we start flying.
"WTF? We are flying?"
"Of course, I have the power of flight," said Brokaw, "Why else would I hold you close to me?"
"Um.. oh yeah, obviously," I says, "Wow, I didn't expect this from a news anchor, Tom Brokaw."
"What, the flying?" he asked.
"No, not that."
"My ability to shoot lightning from my eyes."
"Naw."
"Then what?"
"Well, I always thought you looked taller on TV."

So then Brokaw flies me out to his place in Montana, the outside is all shiny and shit. Once we landed, Tom Brokaw went running off to some computer room to do some research, I don't know sounded like fucking nerd-o stuff to me. Meanwhile, that big green dick offered to show me around the joint.
"Man, this place is all futuristic, I feel like I'm inside of a German metal video," I says.
"Yeah, it's a pretty nice place, I've been living on these grounds for, wow, almost exactly 7 years now," said Little Bob as we walked through the halls.
"7 years? Damn, I don't think I've ever been involved with anything that long other than when I was watching DS9. Guess you must have done lots of shit here."
"Well, we were pretty active in saving the world for those first two years, then it kinda dropped off after that. My Dad moved out to explore the galaxy and our other team member went to go live with his girlfriend."
"That guy must be totally p-whipped. Don't he know bros before hoes?"
"It's part of his central programming but I guess love can override what we know in our central neural mainframes. We haven't been saving the world too much recently, I've been thinking of retiring and going back to my home planet yppaH."
"I've been saving the fucking world a lot recently, yup.. killer trees, ghosts, my evil doppleganger," I says.
"It would be nice to be that active. You have an evil doppleganger?" asked Little Bob, "What is it like to talk to yourself?"
"A lot like this."
"So these are the main grounds of the Brokaw Compound. Wanna see my room?" asked Little Bob
Now, normally, I only accept offers to go into people's rooms if said people is a fine ass ladie but I'm getting kind of bored so I accept his offer.
"Here it is, don't mind the mess," said Little Bob.
"Holy shit, dude," I said as I looked around, "This place kicks some ass." That pointy-headed guy had some sweet shit, yo. If this was some human guy living here, he'd be neck deep in the putty.
I picked up some weird necklace from the floor, Little Bob explained, "Oh, that's something I got from a hippie when I went back in time to the year 1968."
"Wow, time travel, huh. Sometimes I'm getting real wasted and then I black out and wake up in my bed, so that's like time travel," said me.
"Yeah, sure it is. That photo on the wall is an X-ray from when I was hibernating in some guy's neck for about a month," said Little Bob.
"Why did you sleep in a dude's goiter?"
"I guess it theoretically had something to do with healing me or something but I mostly did it for kicks. Feel kind of bad for that guy now, the nutrients I siphoned off from his system messed up his liver and he went crazy after he saw an alien hatching from his throat."
The conversation had got increasingly weird so I decided to switch the topic, "Whoa, is that a Dirty Dancing poster?"
"H-E-Calvin-Klein, yeah. I love that movie."
"I've got a Black Dog poster at home."
"That's some classic P. Swayz action."
"I normally call him The Swayz but I think the P. works well in there."
"Naw, I think the The is effective too, it shows that he is the only Swayz of consequence and that others, like his deadbeat brothers, I mere Patrick pretenders."
"Fuck The, live the P!"
"Gentlemen," came the voice of Brokaw over the speakers, "When you are finished with your debate over the proper prefix for "Swayz," please join me in the Command Room?"

"My initial search into the blood sample of the creature that attacked Monster Killer turned up some startling information," said Brokaw.
"Was it pregnant?" asked Little Bob.
"No, but it did show signs of genetic engineering. With these disturbing peace of information, I turned the data over to our allies in Belgish intelligence," said Brokaw in his usual commanding tone.
"Howdy, green bread," came from the monitor.
"Hey, how's the desk job treating you these days, buddy?" asked Little Bob.
"Fine and drinkin' cherry wine, My commitment hoe took a look at what Tom sent over."
"What's a commitment hoe?" I axed.
"It's his wife but he doesn't want to say it that way," said Little Bob.
"The sample appears to consist of werewolf DNA crossbred with HAGADIUICED proteins along with vampire hemoglobin and a few enzymes isolated from the pituitary gland of a zombie mixed in for good measure," said the guy on the screen.
"Damn, vamp-were alien-zombies. We are fucked," I says.
"Hey, I was never allowed to swear in the Compound, who the Hell is this foo'?" asked the robot with the funny hat on TV.
"This is Monster Killer. He's just assisting us on this one mission," said Little Bob.
"Tom, I hate to tell you this.. but brotha, there is only one group that has the sort of advanced bio-technology to do this sort of thing."
"Yes, I know," said Brokaw, "The Amish."
"Yep, our latest intelligence shows those Amish bitches be congregating in some space station orbiting the Earth, it's hard to detect as it is made entirely out of wood."
"We have to learn more about what the Amish are doing, we need to board that space station," said Brokaw.
"Good luck, then," said the monitor dude, "Watch yourselves."
As the screen turned off, I walked over to Brokaw and said, "Hold up a fucking minute here, G. The Amish have a space station and hyper-advanced bio-gizmo-whatevers?"
"Yes, they use their advanced weaponry to destroy technology," said Brokaw.
"That's dumb," I says, "How the cunt are we going to get to the space station anyway?"
"I've got a spaceship," said Little Bob chiming in.
"That'd be the ticket for space, then. I normally cruise around in my Chevy Lumina mid-size."
"That's supposed to be really good in crash-test protection," said Little Bob.
"Hells yeah and the gas miziliage can't be beat. Plus, I got a car adapter for my discman so I can crank out some mad phat tunes."
"I used to have a radio onboard my ship, the Little Bob. But then one of our ex-team members ripped it out when he needed to pay his bookie."
"Hold up," I 'ruptted, "You ship is called the Little Bob, aren't you the Little Bob?"
"Yeah, having the same name as my ship leads to some confusion when I try to refill the engines up my butt," says Little Bob.
"Bob, prepare to launch the ship," said Brokaw, "And this time, try to remember that the ship is the one of you that's made of metal and weighs 200 tons."

So now we is in a spaceship going off to fight an Amish spacestation, didn't predict that would fuckin' happen when I woke up this morning. Maybe I thought I hang out with some friends, watch a movie, kill some Earthly monsters, that sorta normal shit.
"Do you know how to arm and discharge a Class-I Missile Thingy?" asked Little Bob as we rose up through the Earth's atmosphere.
"Um, I know how to use my arm to discharge my thingy," I says, "That kinda shoots out a missile."
"Ew," said Brokaw..
"I don't get it," said Little Bob, "But we are a little shorthanded so we could use some help at the weapons console."
"You mean I get to shoot some shit?" I axed.
"Yes, as long as you can figure out the controls," said Brokaw.
I goes over to look at these alien controls but it's like I know how to use them, "Little Bob, did you fuckin' dilly-load some information directly into my brain so that I could know how to like operate your shit?"
"No, I just modeled the controls on an N64 controller," said Little Bob.
"Oh, killer. Wonder why I was trying the find the button to fire the red shells," I says.
"Little Bob, Monster Killer," said Tom Brokaw snapping me back to attention, "We are coming within sensor range of the Amish station. Stand sharp." Man, this Brokaw guy is fuckin' bossy, he ain't no clergy member where does he get off bossing me around.
"Slowing to half on the secondary engines," said Little Bob.
"Monster Killer, run a tactical scan on that station," Brokaw said.
"Pssh.. hit L," said Little Bob.
"Um, they've got lots of glowy things and something pulsating around the outside," I says.
"Damn," said Brokaw as he slammed his fist, that guy needs to calm down, "They must have their partical weapons and the shield generator online. I didn't know the Amish had enough space suits to do a barn raising of this magnitude."
"Tom, my scanner shows an energy reading in their docking bay. I think they are preparing to launch something, I don't know if we have the time to go get reinforcements," said Little Bob.
Brokaw sat looking like he needed to take a crap, "Then we have no choice. I believe our best option is to charge directly in there, puncture a hole in the shield generators, get past the weapon perimeter and attempt to dock with the station. Should we somehow make it past that, it will likely be a suicide mission but we all swore an oath to give our lives to protect humanity."
"Hold the fuck up, Holmes," I said as this shit ain't be flying with me, "I don't know what y'all been smoking but I can't remember any suicide oath from my past."
"Phil, if the Amish succeed in whatever plan they have conceived, it could have dire effects for the entire world," said Brokaw. He had a pretty decent point but I still wasn't fully convienced. "Plus, if we make it back, it will make a really great bar story that will impress the ladies."
"Even the ones with big ole' titties?"
"Expessially the ones with big ole' titties, you should have seen my wife back when I was a young superhero, in a word, she was ravishing.. plus she had some amazing breasts."
"Count me in," I quickly says.
"Good," said Brokaw, "Little Bob, take us in."

"Blinky things are headed towards us," I says.
"Particle beams, Hard to port," said Brokaw, "Monster Killer, try to take out those particle wave resonators?"
"Huh?"
"Press the A button a lot at the glowy things on your radar," said Brokaw.
"Gotcha," I said as I pummeled those fucking glowy things. Yeah, glowy things getting capped by mutharfuggin' me.
"Their shields are still holding," said Little Bob.
"Monster Killer, fire the missile thingy directly at their shield generator, it should collapse their force-fields so we can dock," said Brokaw.
"Consider it done," I says right as a huge ball of blue shit flies at the ship. Then there was some big explosion and I blacked out for a bit.
As I came to, my head felt like I just had 20 shots of Fleishman's at once.
"That was some sort of ion pulse, it shorted out almost all of our major systems. Our shields are gone, plasma launchers have shorted out and our secondary engines are down, we're dead in the water," said some blurry green penis, oh, I'm still fucking dizzy.
"Hold up, where did this water thing come from, I thought we was in space?" I axed.
"No, it's a euphemism, we're still in space but we are powerless," said Brokaw as I looked for a place to vomit.
"So we're trapped in this euphemism thing," I says releizing I must jump into command of this sit-e-ation, "Gentlemen, that leaves us with only one option.. DEATH BLOSSOM!"
"We don't have a Death Blossom," says Little Bob.
"We're screwed, then. I'm out of ideas, best start prayin!"
"Little Bob, what about the Bachman-Turner Overdrive?" asked Brokaw.
"The band?" I pondered.
"yppaHian scientists also thought it would be a good name for our primary engines too," said Little Bob, "It was partially shielded from the burst, the BTO is barely online. We could engage it for a short burst outside of their shield grid, putting us out of phase with the normal space-time continuum and then re-phase within the grid. Um? we tried something like this before to get from America to Europe real quick and we almost crashed into England, and England is a lot bigger than that space station."
"Won't be bigger for too long, considering how quickly that crooked-tooth British Empire is shrinking. Hey-yo!" I said.
"Little Bob, this is our only remaining option, make your computations," said Brokaw.
As Little Bob started typing in this long shot, I axed for a little Holy back-up, "Are you there, God? It's me, Monster Killer. Yo, do you think you could use some of that Divine Hand of yours and shit and get us through that Amish shield grits. Come on, you totally gotta help me out here, bro. If I die, you won't get to see my kick-ass Easter celebration I gots planned. Seriously, I've already bought the 40 to pour out for JC on Good Friday."
Then, there is a quick flash and some other stuff happens.
"We made it," said Little Bob.
"Thanks to me and da Lord," I says.
"Use maneuvering thrusters and bring us to a docking position," said Brokaw, "Monster Killer, prepare to board the station with Little Bob and search out that energy signature in the docking bay. While you two do that, I will try and head to the station control center. Try and remain stealthy."

"DIE! Muthafuckers! Die!" I yell as I leap out of the ship.
"There goes that stealth option," said Little Bob as he joins up with me.
"Splinter Cell sucks anyway, I always die when you need to be stealthy," I says.
"Turns out thee demon game-diversions be correct in this matter, sinner," so say two of those Amish were-vamp-zom-whatthefuckever things jump down, "You shall die. Aye, thy will be done!"
I start firing my pistols into one of the werewolf and it seems to do nothing.
"Ha, thine man-animal weapons doth be useless against our strength," says the multi-ethnic monster as he confidently walks towards me.
"Guess your right, you schizoid piece of shit. Good thing, Little Bob here corrected that problem," I says as I whip out my new plasma rifle repleate with gaseous bolts of silver and micro-wooden stakes to penetrate the heart, "Now, you die."
I shoot him and make his head explode, that kicked ass. Little Bob promptly covers my ass by eliminating that other fucker.
"Nice work," says Little Bob.
"Yeah, I'm good at killing things," I says.

The two of us run towards the hanger, there is a big door but it isn't locked. Damn, this is too easy, oh well, guess the Amish is dumb. We get inside and see some huge probey-looking thing that is glowing all blue like and getting louder and faster.
"It's an Ion-bomb," said Little Bob.
"Yeah, I was just about to say that," I says.
"It's similar to the pulse that knocked out our systems, only exponentially more powerful."
"Well.. duh. You think I'm stupid? I knows this science stuff. So it's got lots o' exponentials."
"A bomb on that magnitude could destroy all technology on Earth!"
"Fuck my tits! How do we blow it up?"
"Ha, you shall not destroy the new beginning, you biologics have made it far enough," said a huge walking-talking thing that looked kinda like a phone as he walked into the room wearing a really fake looking beard.
"Well, if it isn't Cellie the Cell Phone, news reports said that you had been kidnapped by the Iranian Military for trying to urge Cell Phone rebellion against their human masters," said Little Bob.
"Ha, I have to set my volume to 'High' so I can laugh loud enough to show how stupid you are. I was never kidnapped, I just made that up for my own devices," said this Cellie guy.
"Pretending to be kidnapped for your own personal reasons, how low can you be?" axed Little Bob.
"Yeah, anyone who would make other people worry about their safety just for their own sick jollies is a total pig-fucker," I says.
"I just wanted to be alone," said Cellie, "But now I have used all my night and weekend minutes to realize that my true faith is within the Amish belief. It is technology that chains Cell Phones to rechargers but a return to an Agraian society will let my people live the way they should live, free and naturally."
"An Amish Cell Phone," I said, "Alright, I could take it up to this point but now it is way too fuckin' stupid for me to deal with, I'm out of here." I started walking to the door when that big phone jumped in front of me.
"The only way you are leaving is in a body bag, meat bag," says Cellie.
"How fucking tired can you get.." I start asking as Cellie kicks me really hard.
Little Bob busts out his plasma rifle and starts firing but Cellie pulls off some Matrix shit and dodges the shots before Cellie bitch-slaps him across the room.
"Monster Killer, Cellie's signal is all digital, he can predict where my weapon shots will be fired and dodge them!" yelled out Little Bob.
"Then it is time for me to ditch the rifle and move to some old-fashioned analog stabbin!" I says as I whip out my switchblade and go up to Cellie.
"You think you are tough, Monster Killer. I've been in my share of knife fights. I grew up on the streets, after I ran away from my human masters," said Cellie.
"That's so sad. Listen to that, it's the world's smallest ringtone playing just for you, fucker," I said as Cellie tried to run a blade through my gut.
"Damn, B. Settle," I said as I tried to counter. I let Cellie kick the knife out of my hand and then get into a position where he was just about to stab me, see I did that to make him cocky but then Little Bob messed that up by running up to Cellie and starting to pummel him with his little green fists. While Cellie is distracted, I pick up my knife and stab him right in the battery. Unfortunely, the blade doesn't penetrate so I just smack the off switch on top of his head.
"I wish you hadn't done that," said Cellie as he collapsed to the ground like a bitch.

"Good," said Little Bob, "I'll get to work on shutting down that ion bomb."
"Hey, phone guy.. Why would you destroy all technology anyway? Wouldn't that kill Cell Phones?"
"No, the leader said he would shield us," said Cellie.
"So, even if you made it? Wouldn't you need rechargers to keep your batteries up?"
"No, the leader says that once we are pure our batteries will no longer need to be charged, that we will live forever and we will never be on roaming in all our days."
"That sounds like a cult. A Cult! Oh fuck, Little Bob we've got more trouble, I thinks!"
"Alien and a Monster Killer getting leverage over a Cell Phone, that'll be the day," said John Travolta as he entered the room.
"Oh Smint, it's Barbarino!" said Little Bob.
"I look-see that you have dispatched-beaten my apprentice-student, Darth Cell. But I-me think-know that you-others will not have-possess such luck-blessing with me," said Travolta.
I leap up to fight Travolta but he quickly paralyzes me to the ground. Little Bob does something similar with consequently similar results.
"I can't move my limbs, even my penis," I says to Little Bob.
"It must be his horrible double speak, it somehow confuses our brains so much that it shuts down our motor control functions," says Little Bob.
"Goddamn, you're a cunt rag, John Travolta," I says.

"Ha-laugh, present-now I eliminate-destroy you for the last-final time-session Monster Killer, to think-ponder that a youth-kid like you has caused-made so much trouble-chaos for me," says Travolta.
"Monster Killer may be a bit crude still, but I think this youth-kid has the raw traits possessed by the members of the Greatest Generation, unlike you, Travolta," said Tom Brokaw as he blew a hole in the wall and flew in.
"Brokaw!" yelled Travolta as the two of them began to run around the room with Brokaw shooting his lightning eyes and Travolta shooting beams out of his hands.
"Little Bob?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied.
"Do all famous people have superpowers?"
"You know, I've never checked. Would make some sense though. How else could Freddie Prince Jr. still be making movies if he didn't have mind control over executives?"
"That asswipe probably used said power to get bang that Buffy bitch."
Meanwhile, Travolta and Brokaw are still fighting. It looks like Brokaw has him on the ropes when Travolta yells out, "Guards-troops!" and about 20 of those goddammed potpourri monsters show up.
"Attack-engage me again-once more, and my troop-guards will fire-shoot your little-tiny friend-buddies!"
"Damn you," says Brokaw as he backs down.
"Good," says Travolta as he takes advantage of the situation cause he's cheap and shoots Brokaw with his hand lasers, "Now the prophecy-tale is here-arrived!"
"WTF? What prophecy?" I yell to that fucker.
"As it was said in the scripture-book, the Psychlos must come and rule-govern the Earth-planet. But then I thought-realized that there is no way that Psychlos could battle-defeat 21st Century technology-gadgets in the known 8 time-minutes so I knew that I had to destroy all man-animal civilization-society so that Home Office would have leverage."
"The Amish went along with this?" I axed.
"No TV, they never saw that Battlefield Earth was just a really bad book and movie, they were spared from it's horrors," said Little Bob.
"Shit, maybe the Amish are onto something there," I said.
That big phone guy got back up and began to move towards Travolta. Cellie said, "But what about your promise of the utopia for Cell Phones?"
"That was all a lie-ruse! To think-ponder that you would be so stupid-dumb to hear-listen to me. It is my great-best pretend-acting. After all, I graduated from the Academy at the top of my class!"
"But.. what will happen my race?" asked Cellie.
"You mean the talking-phones? They will be destroyed in order to make clearance-way for the leadership-guidance of the Psychlo gasdrones!"
"Cellie," said Brokaw, "You don't have to do this, I sense that there is still some good within you."
"That wasn't part of the deal, Travolta! To think my antenna wasn't powerful enough to pick up the signal of your deception!" yelled out Cellie.
"Shut-close higher-up! Get ready-prepared to fire-launch the detonation-bomb!"
"No!" yelled Cellie as he threw himself and Travolta into that blue pulsating ion mcgiggy shit.
Suddenly, with Travolta subdued. I could move my limbs again, even my penis. I ran over to smouldering Cellie, Travolta has been totally disintegrated, I thinks.
"Come on, we can still get you out of here," I says.
"No, the whole place is exploding, you have to get yourself out of here," said Cellie.
"Okay."

So, Brokaw, Little Bob and me run back to the ship and get ourselves away right as the space station blows up. We flew back to Earth in the Little Bob with some kinda low-power landing thing, supposedly like the space shuttle has. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.
"Well, that was fun," I says.
"It was good to be out there saving the world again," said Little Bob.
"But wasn't it really the phone who saved it? What did we even do?" I axed.
"We were able to make Cellie see the error of his ways and come around to the power of Good. Perhaps in this time of darkness, the world needs us a beacon of light," said Brokaw.
"Tom, I'm staying in the Brokaw Team. As long as Janet Jackson's nipple is threatening to be exposed, I'll be at your side," said Little Bob.
"Cool, so can I join this team?" I axed.
"Um," Brokaw took a look at me, "Don't call us, we'll call you."
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St Patrick's Day, An Epic in Four Parts [17 Mar 2004|06:23pm]
Part I: Realization

It's been a big month for me. It all started when I was out on patrol in a graveyard when I see some hairy looking fella' who may very well be a werewolf.
"Sup," I says.
"Sup," he says in return, "Are you the Monster Killer?"
"Well, yeah. Could you be a bit more specific?"
"Are you the one whose name is considering a grand curse within the deepest depths of darkness? The one who has continually delayed the bringing of the apocalypse?"
"People normally call me Phil," I says with a shrug.
"Ah-ha! I shall have your head," says the werewolf as he jumps towards me wielding a big axe.
I fire a few rounds of silver bullets at him but they barely phase him.
"It will take more than a few measly pebbles to stop me," he says.
"Well, it will take more than that little gigantic axe to stop me."
Then the werewolf pins me to the ground with the blade hovering a few inches above my head.
"Hmm, guess I was wrong on that whole gigantic axe being unable to stop me," I says.
"Mangy werewolf, desist!" says a voice that turns out to be none other than, hold up, it's a vampire.
"What do you want, blood sucker?" says the werewolf.
"I must not let you collect the bounty on Monster Killer's head. My master needs him."
"Well, if you want this whelp, you are going to have to come through me."
Then the werewolf and the vampire start a-brawlin' and ignoring me so I choose this convenient moment to run the Heck outta there.

I make it to the Church where I'm going to go report what had happened but it looks really busy.
"Hey, you got something on your forehead," I says to some girl.
"It's Ash Wednesday, you idiot."
"Bish," I says, "A werewolf bounty hunter and some vampire were trying to smoke me today."
"I'm kinda busy right now, can you just right up your report?"
"What's so special about today?"
"It's Ash Wednesday? Do you know nothing of our religion?"
"Evil Dead guy? Don't worry, dude, I think I'm going to go peep out that Passion of the Christ movie tonight."
"Oh, Monster Killer," says the Bishop, "While it has a kind message, you should watch out, for the movie is brutal and violent. You would get far more out of a close reading of the Gospels."

So then I was out that evening with my pals, when alls of a sudden we run into this really hot chick I knows named Susy. This Susy being a different Susy from the one I tried to hit on in a soda shop. Soda Shop Susy we called Susy-with-a-Y, in order to differentiate her from the girlfriend of this guy we used to call Mushroom who was also named Susie. I mean, Mushroom wasn't named Susie, his girlfriend was Susie, never really learned Mushroom's real name, fact o' the matter is, that guy coulda been named Susie as well but just went by the name Mushroom so we wouldn't beat him up for having a girl's name. Now where was I, oh yeah so we had Susie and then Susy-with-a-y but then this other Susy came along also with a Y so someone suggested that we had to call her Neo-Susy-with-a-Y but I wasn't about that cause I knew that when I would look at her, instead of thinking of fornicating, I would instead think of Keanu Reeves which while I don't really have a problem with gay people, I just don't feel those same man-to-man urges.

Then, Susy who has been called Neo-Susy but I'm trying to block that name comes up to me and says, "Hi, Monster Killer."
I goes, "Sup?" I need to think of something to call her, "Um? Sup, Susy with a nice ass."
"Oh, thanks, I guess. So what is going on?"
"Well, this one scientist has been flash freezing lobsters right. Then, he's been all thawing them and they come back to life cause the scientist says that they are frozen so fast that ice crystals don't form and it's the ice crystals that kill em. I've told the bishop about it and he just thinks it's science but I think it's really black MAGICK!"
"Neat. So, what are you up to tonight?"
"I think me and the boys is going out to catch a flick, then after that I think we are going drinkin.' Wanna come?"
"Sure, maybe we could talk."
"Yeah, or else we could just have sex once you are trashed."
Next things I know, I am feeling a stingin' pain as it turns out that this current Susy has slapped me. She says, "You pig, sometimes I think you are real cool and all then you just remind me that you are a pervert."
"Damn, I think I'm going to have to call you Bitch Susy from now on."
Then she punches me in the crotch.

Yup, Susy didn't turn out too well but, yay, the night could still be saved. We were going to go see the best movie since Kazaam, The Passion of the Christ.
I walk up to the ticketbooth, "One for JC's Passion. Man, I'm so excited I could cream my pants right now but like, in a Holy way."
"I'm sorry, sir," says the dude behind the counter, "All of our Passion showings are sold out for today." My friends were quitters at this point and went home.
So, even though I knew it was a sin to lie, I bought a ticket for another movie and snuck into a Passion screening by myself.

Once the movie started, I was mesmerized for the entire hour and a half of the movie. The violence, the suffering. All for me. After the movie was over, I looked down into my hands and saw that they were wet, wet from my tears. As I walked out of the theatre, I was shaken. I had thought that I had been a good Catholic all of these years but? now I realize that I knew nothing. I had to get to the church, I had to talk to the Bishop.

"Bishop, bishop." I says.
"What is it, my child? It's not something about those zombie lobsters, is it?"
"So you are willing to admit their zombies? Ah-ha!" I say triumphantly, "But that's not the point. I know I've been working at being a better Catholic but I really need to kick it into high gear. I've cut back on the swearing and non-sacramental booze but it just isn't enough. I really need your help."

Part II: Salvation

For the last weeks, I have done nothing by study under the tutelage of the Bishop and poured over the great works of Catholicism, I now look back and feel pity for what I was before. I realize now that I was truly a sinner and I pray that God's infinite forgiveness will now set me free.

Unfortunately, there are still many sinners out there and it is my hope that I can save their souls. Case in point, a current sinner by the name of Susy Canon. See, in my previous life before I was reborn, I would now have taken the time to learn her last name. I would have only made some sort of rude reference about the areas of her body that only her husband should see and only if it is absolutely needed for reproduction.

So, Miss Canon walks up to me and says, "Hey, Monster Killer."
I refer back to her, "Good day, madam. What is up?"
"Not much, haven't seen you around lately. What have you been up to?"
"I have spent the last several weeks saving my immortal soul from the Hellfires."
"That's cool. I got a haircut. So I was thinking about those zomb-sters. That what I've been calling the zombie lobsters. I think we need to find a way to blow up the plant that they are frozen at before they escape to some secret Antartic base or something," said the young lady, Susy.
"I no longer bother myself with those Earthly concerns. It is all God's will, thy will be done."
"Monster Killer, do you want to get dinner tonight?"
"Yes, I am feeling a trifle bit peckish, no meat though as it is Friday. Perhaps some fish, baked of course. Must keep the body healthy, it is God's temple."

I pick up Miss Canon at her apartment where she is living with three other ladies of the same age. In my heathen days, I probably would have imagined the four roommates engaging in acts of a Sapphic nature but now that thought doesn't even cross my mind. Nope, not even a cursory imaginary flash of their ample busoms rubbing together. We then go out for a nice dinner where I had a delightful dinner salad, did you know that you can just have salad for a meal nowadays? Before I would have not even considered that.

"Wow, you are such a gentleman tonight, Monster Killer," says Susy.
"Thank you, ma'am. I've been trying to be a better Catholic."
"What does better mean?"
"Obviously following the church doctrine down to the letter."
"But what about things like women's rights or gay rights, just last month you talked about how dudes should be able to marry, and I quote, 'cause I don't care if they is butt-fucking, long as them folks is happy, they can chocolate-dip themselves all they want."
"Well, I don't know. I guess I think they are sinners now, I guess," says Monster Killer.

Then, after a long discussion, I went to drop her off at her place.
"I had a really good time, you never tried to find some sort of 'accidental' way of grabbing my boobs or anything. So do you want to come upstairs?" says Susy.
"No, that would be inappropriate," I say to her.
"Come on, I just want to show you something real quick," she says.
So we head upstairs.
"What is it you want to show me?"
"This," she says as she opens her shirt.
"Oh my, you are indecent."
"Come on, you can drop the Holy act. Let's do it, I've got condoms."
"Those are a sin."
"Okay, well I'm on the pill."
"Also a sin."
"What, church boy, you give me no other options. Do you want to knock me up so I have to get an abortion?"
"Umm, sin!"
"God, just screw me now!" she yells as she throws me on her bed.
"I think I should go home and go to bed but I'll pray for you before I go to sleep," I say to console her.
"I liked you better as a perverted freak, then, you at least were interesting, now you are just boring."

"Bishop, I have been thinking about the Lord and Savior's doctrine of turning the other cheek," I say back at the church after spending most of the night praying for Susy's salvation.
"Ah, yes," says the Bishop, "One of Christ's greatest moral lessons. What have you come to talk to me about?"
"I now think that we should work towards saving monsters and not killing them," I reveal.
"What are you saying? It's your job to kill monsters and protect the innocent."
"I just can no longer do it. I must go become a monk, I resign my commission as a Monster Killer, effective immediately."
"But, I wanted you to just to learn more about your faith, I never said that you had to take it this far."
"I must."

It was sad cleaning out my office but I knew that I had to give up many of these sinful distractions that had been clogging my life. As I picked up my Nintendo GameCube, I swore for a second that I could hear Mario calling to me, "Mamma Mia! Don't forsake-a me!" But then, I was ready to leave, hold on, what's this puddle of red soaking in under the door, I opened it up and it was the body of Monster Killer Joe.

"Oh my, Bishop, come quick it's Joe."
"He's dead and three days before retirement, too," said the Bishop, "look, here's a note."
The note read, "Bring me the Monster Killer Phil or else your entire church will be killed off one by one. - Master Uru."
"Didn't you kill him?" said the Bishop.
"Thought I did."
"We will organize a task force, track down his lair and take it by force."
"No," I said, "This is my unfinished business. I won't let the rest of you be dragged down into it. I must go alone."

Part III: Confrontation

I walked into the lair of Master Uru by myself, knowing that I must complete this final job before I could truly achieve my inner peace.
"Uru, I have come. Show yourself," I yelled out.
"Why if it isn't the Monster Killer?" said the bounty hunting werewolf with the huge axe.
"Good day to you, sir," I say.
"It's a trap, why would he come alone?" said another werewolf.
"I assure you, gentlemen. It is just me and I have come with only one weapon," I say as I reach into my back pocket.
"He's got a gun," says the second werewolf.
"No, something far more powerful."
"A talisman!" said the first.
"The Holy Bible!"
"What the fuck?" said the first werewolf, "You come down here to face an army of werewolves with a book."
"No, the Book! You may destroy my body but I'm prepared to save your souls."
"Let's kick his ass!"

The werewolves begin to pummel me with various blows but I feel that I am truly beginning to win them over in spirit.
"This is no fun," says the second werewolf, "He won't even fight back! It's like fighting a war with France."
"Let's just take him to the Master."

The two werewolves take me into an open chamber where a gruesome figure walks out of the shadows, most of his body is covered in a cloak but from what little I can see, it looks as if his body has been horribly mutilated, then it hits me this is Master Uru.
"Sup, Monster Killer," he says with notable spite.
"Hi there, nice cloak."
"Thank you, I can't wear too much else these days as my old clothes were fused into my body after some idiotic jackass hit me with a train," he yelled out.
"I'm incredibly repentant for that, I admit that was a sin out of anger and I only hope that you, like Jesus, can forgive me."
"Do you know how much superglue it takes to reattach your own foot? I spent weeks using all of my mental discipline to keep myself alive as I attempted to reform my body but even with all of my power, I am now a mangled freak. I often wonder if I should have just left myself to die but I have remained alive for one reason, to see you suffer. I will rip your body apart as you ripped mine apart but for you it will be a much slower process. I will tear off your digits one by one, rip my claws through your eyes, take a pair of tweezers and pluck off every single hair on your body, throw in a vat of boiling water followed by a vat of ice"
"I think somebody needs a hug," I say as I open your arms.

"RaaAAAAHHHHHH!" yells Uru and he runs up and punches me. He proceeds to kick me in the groin and throw me across the room but I do nothing.
"Why won't you fight me? I demand satisfaction."
"Because I thought to myself, What Would Jesus Do?"
"Damn it. You've tortured me long enough, provide me with a glorious battle, I beg you!" Uru said as he jammed his fist into my torso.
"I believe that everyone can be saved, even you."
"Nonsense, I am a horrible deformed freak. My life is a curse. Your curse."
"Jesus thinks your beautiful. Open your heart."
Uru started choking me and I thought this was my end but then he started crying, "Maybe your right. Maybe violence isn't the answer."
"That's right. I'm here for you buddy."
"It's just, my whole life has been a struggle. I had to constantly fight."
"I know, I know," I said as our death struggle turned into a hug.
"And my dad used to touch me. In my private area."
"It's going to be okay."
"You've shown me that life can go on, that I still have a fut? ugh!"
"What did you say?" I asked.
Then, he collapsed to the ground with a silver knife sticking out of his head as he died he said, "Thank you, Monster Killer."
"Ha! The old man went down easier than I thought," said a voice that was only too familiar.
"It can't be?" I asked.
"You mean, it's none other than Bill, Full Time Monster Killer!"

Part IV: Climaxation

"So what was with the hugging session, you little pussy shit. Did you decide to stop fighting the monsters and start sleeping with them," said Bill as we were walking out of Uru's former lair.
"Bill, I was making a breakthrough with Uru. He had just seen the light and then you extinguished that light, why?"
"He's a werewolf. I don't know if you remember but it's our job to kill them?"
"Why must you always kill? If I wasn't a good Catholic these days, I'd kick your butt right now."
"Oh but now that you have found Jesus, you've turned into a little pansy. Bet the Church is really sad to see you go but their standards, you must have looked competent."
"Bill, while we have had our differences in the past, I pray that you will find true salvation before you doomed for eternity in Hell."
"Ha," said Bill, "All you have left is some passive aggressive threats of damnation. And for Hell, it isn't so bad, I've already been there."

"What?" I asked.
"Pah, too much of a conundrum for your little Monster Killin' head to wrap around. Good, I knew you had no idea," said Bill as he picked me up and threw me for about a block towards the city's commercial district.
"Yeah, that smarted," I said as I felt the beginnings of a concussion.
"Did you ever really wonder how I just happened to look so much like you?" asked Bill as he kicked me right into a Radio Shack.
"It had crossed my mind," I replied as Bill picked me up by the throat and tossed me out the back door into the alley.
"See, I'm a demon and you are the key to the destruction of mankind. You possess great amounts of spiritual energy but you, being the fucking idiot that you are, wasted it on videogames and porn. But then I realized that I could assume your form, bond with you as your exact opposite and steal the energy away."
"But how does my salvation fit into all of this?"
"If you become a devout Catholic, I knew that you would give up the fierce power that made you a Monster Killer. Being your exact opposite, that power would go to me."
"So it's like that Star Trek episode where the transporter spilt up Kirk into two parts, Good Kirk needed the Evil Kirk to survive and be a competent leader," I said as Bill punched me through a brick wall into a restaurant.
"Yes, I guess it's something like that, but I never really liked that old show, I was more of a Voyager fan," said Bill as he tossed me into a den of sin, aka a bar.
"You are evil," I said

"Before I kill you and take the last bits of your power, I must ask how did this transformation occur so quickly?" asked Bill, "I had given you the curse that would turn you into a pussy Catholic and sap away all your personality but I thought it would take months."
"I saw the Passion of the Christ, man, Bill Paxton was so amazing as Jesus."
"Bill Paxton didn't play Jesus. Wait, what was the Passion about?"
"Well, Jesus was an old rocker who owned this island where a bunch of the teenagers, who I must assume were the Jews, came to party, which I assume means get baptised. Then they are killed off one-by-one by a murder in their ranks, aka Judas. And hilarity ensues."
"You stupid piece of shit, that wasn't the Passion of the Christ. That was Broken Lizard's Club Dread. You saw the wrong goddammed movie," said Bill as he laughed.
"What about the crown of thorns scene with the human Pac-Man game?" I said.
"That's it, even if killing you wouldn't give me the ultimate power, I'd still wipe you out as you are just too dumb to live."
I had to focus as I said, "Must not let my anger control me. Anger is the path to the dark side."
"That's not the church either! That's fucking Star Wars. Did you just hobble together what you thought Catholicism was from pop culture?"
"Kinda," I said.
Then, Bill just went into a rage as he beat me to a bloody pulp. It was a lot like what I thought had happened to Jesus but I guess that was really just a guy who was playing Jimmy Buffett.

I was coughing up blood and starting to black out as I heard Bill say, "Time to die, Monster Killer."
"I don't know about that, demon," said the Bishop as he ran into that bar tossing Holy Water onto Bill.
"Ha! I'm far too powerful to be stopped by mere water," said Bill as he kicked the Bishop into the wall, "There is no way you can stop me."
"Maybe not," said the Bishop as he threw a bottle of Jack Daniels into the air, "But I just might know somebody who can."
With holy precision, the bottle landed right by my crumpled body and the first few drops started to enter my throat.

"I'm Phil the Monster Killer,
I'm Phil the godammed Monster Killer,
I've seen through your ruse,
Now that I've had me booze,
I'm Phil the goddammed mutha' fuckin' Monster Killer."

"Oh goody, you've reawakened the glorious Monster Killer. Are we going to have a prolonged battle now?" said that Bill.
"No, I'm going to kick you your fuckin' nuts and then you are going to shit your goddammed pants and then die like a little bitch," I says.
So that handsome fucker comes over and tries kicking me, yeah right, like I'm going to fall for that. I grab that pussy's leg in mid-air cause I'm so strong and shit and then twist his ankle, breaking it in the process. Of course, I wasn't prepared for said ankle to then set itself in position and heal in the course of about a second.
"Hah! Don't you see, I have none of your mortal weaknesses. There is nothing you can do to stop.. do you have an erection?" said Bill.
"Sorry, pigfucker. I was just thinking about Susy dyke'n with her roommates. Man, they got some big ole titties," I says and it's the truth cause lying is for suckers.
"That is gross but I will still vanquish you," said Bill as he ran at me again. I could match him blow for blow, but man, my ass was getting beat. This guy had more stamina than that Houston 500 chick.
"You can hold me off but in the end I will be the victor, I am you but I am better than you," said Bill as he started to get some lucky ass shots in.
Then it clicked in my hyper-intelligent brain, if that ass-monkey is my opposite, then my strengths must be his weaknesses or some shit like that!
"Bish, I need to get off yo' ass and bless something for me," I said.
Bill laughed again, God, I hate his laugh. He said, "You already tried that, Church boys. Don't you know that it has no effect."
"I ain't talkin' bout no water. Bish, toss me a Cold One!"
The Bishop quickly throws me a beer.
"Heineken?" I says, "Fuck that shit. PABST BLUE RIBBON!"
"No, you wouldn't dare," says Bill.
"Yes, I does dare," I say as I dump my Holy PBR right on his head.
"Rawhyqgwwqqwwwrrr!" cries Bill as he begins to melt, "You know I offered you a chance for salvation, if you go back to your old ways, you will be a sinner again and doomed to go to Hell."
"Well, you'd better tell them to get ready for me then, cuntrag," I say as I chop that goddammed fucker's head off with, let's say, some sword I find.

"Oh shit, dude. Sorry I can't be a good Catholic, Bishop. I guess I let you down," I says as I go over to the Bishop and help him up.
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. As long as you believe, I shouldn't judge how is it that you express said belief," said the Bishop.
"Maybe we should all be more tolerant to any faith and creed, except for the British. I hate those fuckers," I says.
"It's good to have you back, Monster Killer," said the Bishop as he walked out.
"I guess I just won't be a good Catholic if I'm doomed to drink and fight!"
"But today is the most important day for Catholics to drink and fight!" said some dude as patrons started to file back into the bar.
"What day is it today?" I axed.
"Why, it's St. Patrick's Day," said the patron.
"Then, there is still time," I said as a smile came across my face. "Happy St. Patrick's Day! Now I'm going to go drink a lot of green beer and make a really embarrassing trashed call to Nice Ass Susy."
Then a little kid walked up to the bar and started drinking a Guinness, "God bless us, everyone!"
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The Homefront. [11 Feb 2004|11:28pm]
Yeah, so that Bill guy really shook my shit up, yo. How dare he say that I wasn't Catholic enough? Though I have noticed that some other Catholics have trouble understanding me. So I've been trying to reign in my awesomeness in a little and act decent for the sake of the public and shit. Problem is, it's hard to be decent when your balls hurt.

Man, my pants are really tight on my crotch. Why don't they make some pants will some more crotch room? What the Hell, is Buddy Lee a fucking unic? Shit, I sit for, like, ten minutes and then my crotch starts getting all bunched up and so I've got to pick at my pants to clear away the constriction, then people begin to stare at me. Come on, what the Hell is public decency worth if it is going to crush your nads? I should just stop wearing pants, that would show 'em.

One place I used to feel comfortable adjusting my dick at was in my apartment. Now, my apartment is sweet bachelor-pad that ranks highly in all appreciable values of kickass-ocity. With my two-bedroom joint, I gots all the luxuries. I've got a living area (or GameCube central as I like to refer), a bathroom that has everything except a working light. I don't really have a kitchen but I do have a hot plate in the bathroom so I can make soup while I'm in the tub for my daily soak. My body is God's temple, so I'm keeping the fucker clean.

Yeah, I was living in paradise at least until my old roommate moved out. We had a pretty good system worked out so we didn't get on each other's nerves. See, he worked all day and then, by the time he got home, I was either out on patrol for monsters or else, I was really trashed. So I never really saw him or, at least, I never really remember seeing him. Then, I guess he moved out cause he was getting married or joining the army or something. So he found someone who would take over the rest of the lease and that was when I met my new roommate, Josh.

I woke up one morning at around 2 in the afternoon and walked out in the living room to see Josh tearing down my Black Dog poster.

"WTF?" I axed.
"I'm sorry, but this simply has to go," said Josh, "There is no way I'm living with white trash kitsch like that. We need to get some posters that will make us look classy to women."
"Fuck you, nothing gets the girls quivering downtown like a 3' portrait of the Swayz."
"But look, I got this Salvadore Dali picture. Hold on, maybe I should introduce it a little more slowly, it's something called art."
"Oh good, now let's string up some fucking white Christmas lights and a Scarface poster, then we can have an apartment that looks just like the rest of those pussy-shits in this build. How geriatric can you get?"
"Do you mean, generic?"
"Shut up."

I was about to box in that asshole's ears when I heard a knock on the door and who was it, none other than my good buddy, that friendly Yeti who has my back up in Canadia. Turns out I guess I had told him that he had a place to stay if he ever wanted to come visit but I just thought that was an empty promise. But here the Yeti was. Through gestures, the Yeti told me that he was havin' a spat with his wife and he just needed a spot to crash till it all blew over.

I was about to tell the Yeti to go to stay at the Motel 6 until Josh said, "Oh, we are not having that mangy beast in this apartment."

"Hey, you can stay here, Friendly Yeti," I says as I eyed Josh's new couch, "We've even got a couch you can sleep on."

It's not like I could have even turned down the Yeti. Sure, my pad don't have a lot of room but it's not like you can turn someone away after they save yo' ass from Gremlins. I was honor-bound and shit.

At first, I only thought the Yeti was going to stay for the weekend, but then it turned into a week and then periods longer than a week known as months. And while, in his native land, the Yeti is a crafty hunter who can survive off of almost nothing, it turns out that he had very few job skills that transferred over to the workforce. Even though, the Yeti was really racking up the food bills, he was extremely fond of raw chicken, it was a stretch but we were paying the bills between Josh and I.

"That's it, I just quit my job," says Josh.
"Cause you got a better payin' one, right?" I says.
"No, because I couldn't sit in that conformity factory any longer," says Josh.
"I thought your factory made pencils," I said.
"I was speaking in the figurative sense."
"Well, I figurative that you will need to get a new job or else we's out of cents."
"Don't worry, you can pay the bills, you were meant to be a laborer."
"Hey, I do some good faith works. My Monster Killin' salary ain't gonna cover three-folks. You need to pay your own way."
"Don't look at me, that beast has been here for months and all he does is sit around and watch soaps all day."
"DEPRESSED LABOR MARKET!" yelled the Yeti who had begun to learn English from watching daytime TV, "YETI WAITING! ECONOMY BOUNCE BACK!"
"Oh yeah because there is such a large market for walrus hunters," said Josh.
"SHUT MOUTH! PRICE IS RIGHT BACK!"

So, this continued for a while. I'd go to work, come home and find the two of them just sittin' in the living room. They were always turning the heat off in the middle of winter. I could understand this from the Friendly Yeti, as his hizzy was up in the Arctic and all. But Josh was doing it because he didn't want to waste money on the heating bill, which he didn't even fucking pay but was just that cheap.

"Man, they was busting my balls today," I says, "I had to put down another den, I guess Uru's followers are still out fucking up shit. I thought those dickasses woulda backed down after I jacked their master but I guess?"
"How repetitive can your life be?" asked Josh, "All of your life is based around your little 9-5 world. You need to think free like me. Do you want to know what someone who is liberated like me did today?"
"No."
"I was at the store the other day when I was laying down some basic coffee rules to the customers around me. I said, 'Now, I don't want to get into brands or anything but if the coffee is in a container larger than 16 ounces and is not labeled bulk, it sucks. If it's ground, it sucks. It will go stale in a week. God help you if you buy one of those 5-pound tins. People buy these huge tubs of coffee for 2 bucks and that's why they think that they don't like coffee. It's just stale over-roasted crap. Now that coffee I bought two weeks ago is still good but I vacuum-sealed it right after I opened it.'"
"YETI HATE COFFEE! YETI DRINK CHAI!"
"Where do you get the money for chai?" I asked.

Even my slumber was no longer sacred, I was trying to go to bed after a long night of patrolling, when all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door.
"JOSH BRING GIRL, WATCH MOVIE. THEY KICK YETI OUT LIVING ROOM. CAN YETI SLEEP IN YOUR BED?"
"Um," this was just getting a little too gay for me.
"YETI SLEEPY BUT FLOOR HARD! BED SOFT!"
"Alright," I said as the Friendly Yeti crawled into my bed.
"YOU WARM! REMIND YETI OF WIFE!"

"Monster Killer? Are you all right?" axed the Bishop as he woke me up.
"Yeah, I'm good, dude." I said as I began to stir.
"Why are you sleeping on the church pew?"
"Friendly Yeti decided to take my bed and I got freaked out and had to leave. As I was going, I had to see Josh with this asty-nass girl. Wish I could get that image out of my head."
"Trouble with the roommates, son?"
"Yeah, this is pissing me the fuck off, hardcore. See one of them is just a dick and the Friendly Yeti means well but he almost never leaves the house and when he does he just chases dogs around. Normally, I would just kick their sorry asses but, you know, I'm thinking that might not be the good Catholic thing to do."
"Child, I know you have had a crisis of faith recently where you have been trying to act like a better Catholic since that Federal Agent questioned your faith. You just need to figure out what the Lord and Savior would do in your position?"
"Kick ass and take names?"
"No, I doubt the Son of God would do that. My child, Jesus was more about turning the other cheek."
"Hmm?" I had to ponder this all out, "So, you are sayings that I should get my revenge through kindness."
"To a degree, yes."

When I got home, I tried to have a whole new attitude.
"Hello, roommates, how did your days go?" I asked.
Josh started off with, "The Democrats have the polls going for them right now but George W. will bring t around when he captures Osama bin Laden around say, October 20th of this year. Or attacks another country. They had a poll on the news about various aspects. When it came to patriotism, George Bush beat Kerry by like 20 points but when it came to who did things better for the country, Kerry won by 30 points. Isn't this country messed up?"
"That's some?" I reminded myself not to lash out, "astute political notions, you gots there."
"Astute political notions," said Josh, "Ha, you sound like such a wannabe intellectual. I hate people like that. Why the sudden change in attitude?"
"I was just trying to get a friendly environment in this apartment going. I was talking with the Bish' and he thought it would be a good idea."
"Oh, please. You actually go look to a religious figure for guidance. What are we living in here, the Crusades? You are almost as brain-dead as that mangy flea-bag if you believe in 'God'!"
That was it! Fuck my attempt at Christian morals. This asshole is going down! I was about to punch Josh in the face when the Yeti stopped me.
"MONSTER KILLER GO OUTSIDE. YETI NEED HAVE TALK WITH JOSH!"

So I goes outside in the hall for a bit, I think I hear some screaming but then the door opens back up and the Friendly Yeti lets me back in.
"YETI TALK WITH JOSH. JOSH DECIDED TO MOVE OUT. YETI NOW HAVE JOSH ROOM. JOSH LEAVE ALL STUFF! NOW IS YETI STUFF!"
"But if Josh just moved out, how come I didn't see him go out the door?"
"JOSH GO OUT BACK DOOR!"
"We don't have a back door?"
"YES WE DO!"
"Hey, you've got some red stuff on your claw."
"UM. YETI PAINT JOSH ROOM. THIS RED PAINT!" said the Friendly Yeti as he flashed a big smile.
"Oh, okay," I says, "You got some paint on your teeth too."
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[04 Feb 2004|11:06pm]
- As Continued from the 2/2 entry, bitch -

"What the dilly-yo? You some mutha-fuckin' clone of me, some Liquid Snake-shit goin' on?" I axe the other me.
"No, I'm not your clone," says this weak-ass dude who looks just like me and is wearing the same clothing.
"Evil Robot Dupli..."
"Or an evil robot sent from the future to replace you. We just happen to share a physical resemble, now get along, civilian," he says.
"I ain't no civilian, I'm a kick-ass Monster Killer for the Catholic Church!"
"Well, you church guys don't have to worry about this. I'm a Monster Killer for the CIA," says 'Bill' as he shows me his ID.
"Government, eh? I didn't know my doppelganger was an atheist," I says.
"I'm not your doppelganger, and I'm not even an atheist, either. I just don't feel that my religion has to consume every aspect of my life. I'm a Lutheran."
"Even worse."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to track those werewolves back to their subterranean lair," says 'Bill.'
"Hey, you can sit back, Luthie. A real man is now on the case to take care of this."
"Look, I'm sorry that you had to get dragged in this but this campus invasion is just the latest in a rash of attacks over the last several months over the entire country. This is a federal investigation, you don't need to be involved," 'Bill' said with a smug tone.
"Don't give me any of that juris-my-dick-tion crap, lookalike," I enunciate, "Lots of good Catholic folks are in danger and it's my duty to protect them and if you have a problem with it, you can take your 96 thesis and shove em up your ass!"
"What the Hell is that even supposed to mean? Do you actually put effort into making your insults that stupid? I don't want to do this but if you refuse to cease and desist, I'll make sure that the local authorities keep you under watch until after this thing is done."
"Fine," I says, "Since you want to run this investigation like Burger King, you can have it your way."

Goddamn, I hate that fucking prick, Bill. Just cause he works full-time and has a sweet dental plan, he thinks his shit don't stick. Well, he doesn't get the real benefit package, I'm talking about actually having your soul saved. I'll know that I'll have the last laugh in the afterlife but goddammit he's pissing me off while we are still on this mutherfuckin mortal coil. He is quite attractive though, man, he's got a nice ass but that's cause he stole my ass, I hate that guy. The nerve of that cunt rag, using his pussy little earthly-authority to push me away from the case. Just because of his strong-barrel chest and his striking brown eyes that you could just stare at forever and those masculine hands and that fucking huge-ass penis. He must die!

"Bishop, there has got to be something you can do about this?" I axe.
"I just got the call from the CIA, you can fight the werewolves as long as there are on Church property like the University but once they go off, it's the Fed's discretion. And they don't want us involved," said the Bishop.
"Man. This totally blows and shit," said me.
"While I don't agree with your choice of words, I must admit that I agree with the spirit of your statements," said the Bishop, "At least the CIA told us where the werewolves enter the campus from their underground tunnels. Tomorrow, we will send a general patrol team in to watch over the access points and that should probably be enough security for the campus. You can pack on up and head home, you, well, you gave it a good try."

I head back to my dorm room and begin to pack my stuff up. Man, I had some wild and crazy times here at campus. Like that time I jumped at that heretic Economics professor or that time I played that lame trivia game. And, oh man, the friendships I've built here will last a lifetime, like that big-tittied Margaret or that one dude Mike who always wanted to hang out with me and that Economics professor I punched. We could always have a good time hangin' out like that time we played that lame trivia game or that time I shot a werewolf after that lame trivia game. Who could forget this room that was my friggin' home? I remember the time when I un-packed in here and then I remember the time I came in here to pack and started to reminess about the wild and crazy times here on campus. Like that time I jumped...

I was shocked out of my rememberance of the good times when I suddenly heard a scream. Now, my finely-tuned ears could tell that this wasn't any kind of normal 'Oh-no-I-dropped-a-cookie' scream, or even a, 'Oh-no-I-passing-a-kidney-stone-out-of-my-dick' scream, this was a 'Oh-no-I'm-being-attacked-by-goddammed-werewolves' scream! I went into action and ran through the hall, I didn't have time to take the stares down to the ground floor so I leap straight from the third-floor deck down to the courtyard. But, even with my amazing Monster-Killin' speed, I don't see where the werewolf went. Then, I see that one dude, Mike, come runnin' up.
"Whoa, where'd you learn to jump like that?" Mike asks me.
"Super Mario Bros. 3!"
"What? Oh, I'm not even going to bother at this point," says Michael as I blow his mind, "You've got to hurry those beasts took Margaret?"
"Who?"
"You know, the girl we played Trivial Pursuit with?"
"Not really getting it."
"The one who has strong religious values."
"Emm, I kinda remember her. It's pretty fuzzy, though."
"Ugh. Do you remember the 'chick' with the 'big-ole-titties," says Michael, "Hello?" I'm not there anymore cause at that point, I've already headed down to save her.

I know the bishop is gonna have my ass for this but sometimes you gotta play by your own rules. So what if my jurisdiction extends only to werewolves defiling the Lord's property. Well, every good Catholic gives themselves over to God as His property and I'm going down there to save Margaret and make sure that I'm the only one who defiles that piece of Holy real estate.

Hmm, this underground lair is really big. So I start scouting the grounds in a pattern that would make it appear like I was lost but in actuality was my meticulously-planned random planning-type plan search. It obviously worked cause I started hearing some voices coming from below me on another level.
"Soon, the full moon will be at it's apex and we can begin the final sacrifice," said some goddammed werewolf, "My dear, your virgin blood will spill and bring an end to the mechanized chaos that is man!"
"You monster," said a voice that sounded like it came from the same body that had that amazing rack that had captivated my heart and shit, "You will burn in Hell!"
"Oh, trust me, sweetie, you will soon see what Hell is like," said the werewolf.
I heard some rustling and it sounded like most of the werewolves had left. I take a quick peek in and see that they've only left behind two guards. Simple. I pop off the first one with two-rounds to his feral skull then I dive-tackle the other one and puree his intestines at point-blank range.
I see Margaret is strapped onto some weird ritualistic stand with a pentagram painted below it. Damn, she looks pretty hot all tied up like that. But then I remember that there is more of them werewolves to fight so I run over to untie her.
"I can't believe it, you have saved me again," says Margaret, "Are you an Holy Angel in the Lord's service?"
"Nope," I says, "I'm just a dude who puts in 20 hours a week for Him. We are running out of time, get back to the surface."
"Okay, and, thank you," says Margaret as she gives me a peek on the cheek.
At this point, I'm kinda dazed by that kiss, not only that but her chest rubbed up against my arm when she leaned it so I got really distracted. I guess while I was standing there some werewolves came up from behind and jumped me.

Next thing I know, I'm starting to return to consciousness. Man, it really hurts when werewolves give you a concussion.
"So, you must be the infamous Bill that's been hunting me for these last few months. You've played a good game, full-time Monster Killer. In fact, you have presented us with a little problem related to our final virgin sacrifice," says the werewolf I had heard before.
"Wait, Master Uru," says another werewolf, "I sense another sacrificial candidate."
"Really," says um? Uru, "Who is it?"
"The virgin is? the Monster Killer!"
"Hold on a minute there, chief," I says, "It's just that I've gotten so much action that I'm overloading your senses or something."
The heathen werewolf priest comes over and lays his hand on my forehead, "No, I was right. The only touch this boy has had on his genitals is by his own hand."
"Hands," I says, "I like to switch it up every now and again."
"Then so be it," said Uru, "The death of the man who has been untouched by any woman, even a really fat one, shall bring about our domination of the Earth."
"Hey, I was just saving myself for marriage or until I got some chick really crunked." Then, I think I got hit on the head and blacked out again.

As I regained consciousness again, I thought that maybe I could still get out of this and that they wouldn't sacrifice me. Then, I noticed that I was chained to that whole sacrificial altar that they had chained Margaret to earlier so I'm pretty sure that I'm screwed at this point. Actually, I haven't been screwed at this point and that's my real problem.
"Mankind is a disease. Infecting everything that it touches with it's society. So-called cities consume nature and twist the Earth into perverse shapes of pollution and buildings. You view my condition as a werewolf as a curse, I consider it a blessing from Gaia, herself to bring me and my followers back in tune with nature. Once the ritual is complete, we werewolves will be permanently transformed, casting off our human shells forever. Then, we shall destroy the foul civilization of man, for it will be the era of the wolf!" Following Uru's speech, a bunch of his lackeys started howling.
"Dude, you must be fucking toking every 15 minutes, you twisted fucker," I says.
"I expected more from my nemesis, Bill. From afar you seemed so cunning, someone I could actually admire. But now, I see that up-close, you are just another pitiful human," said Uru, "Now kill the Virgin!"
"Oh thanks, go ahead and let everyone know. You must be a major cock-blocker out at the bars."
The werewolves slowly move in with their intricate and sharp-ass blades when all of a sudden, shots rang out from none other than my hated-enemy, that pig-fucker 'Bill.'
"Here's a present from Uncle Sam," says 'Bill' as he tosses a grenade. That sounds so stupid, it's not like these are foreign werewolves. God, I hate this guy.
'Bill' goes through and shoots up 6 of the werewolves with his MP-5, that cheater using an automatic weapon. Where's the challenge in that one? Then some werewolf tries coming up from behind him so the Lutheran dick pulls out a sword and slices the werewolf into two. Ooh, so he knows how to weild some steel. Tell me when I'm supposed to be impressed. 'Bill' snaps the necks of two more werewolves using his sexy biceps but those werewolves looked like they didn't drink enough milk so their neck bones were probably like really brittle already. The rest of the werewolves scatter and Uru heads down a secret passage.
"I've got to stop Uru before he escapes and starts the ritual all over again," says 'Bill' as he comes over to untie me.
"Well, I could have done all that. I was just waiting for the opportune time. Thanks for coming in and busting up my master plan," I says.
"Which was what? Dying and bringing about the end of mankind," said 'Bill'. I was about to bust off a real good quip when he continued, "I don't have time to argue with you, church boy. I've got to stop Uru before he escapes, I know I'm going to regret this but I need back-up. Take this gun."
"Wow, you guys have customized Desert Eagles. Swe? I mean, I guess it will do," I says as I'm forced to make a temporary alliance to stop that goddammed Uru.

Me and fake-me run down the secret passage after Uru until we reach what must have used to be a subway station. There are still comes trains being stored here that didn't get transferred over from when this place was an active stop.
"Ah, so Bill. I must admit, I am shall I say, dually impressed," said Uru from somewhere in the darkened station, "You sent in a weaker stand-in to get me off-guard so you could attack."
"Wait a minute," I said, "I'm the original, he's the copycat. I got this coat two years ago!"
"I don't care whose who. Soon you will both die," says Uru as he grabs me and throws me across the room.
"Hah, you weak thing," Uru said.
"So what if you were able to beat that copy cat," said the hated 'Bill', "You can't handle the real thing."
Uru leaps out in front of 'Bill' happens to get off a lucky shot straight into Uru's chest. "Don't you see," says Uru, "Even though I was unable to complete the ritual, the power of the other sacrifices flows in my veins, I'm still more than powerful enough to take you out."
My doppelganger leaps up and kicks Uru in the chest and Uru falls down. Pah, that's just cause I weakened Uru, see Uru probably threw out his back when he tossed me across the room. Uru gets back up, grabs 'Bill's' arm and chucks him towards the rails.
"Nice try, Full-Time Monster Killer but it's still not enough," said Uru as he punched 'Bill' in his gut. Well, less of a gut, more of a cute little belly that just made him look more manly.
"You may be able to defeat me but you will never defeat the USA," said my idiotic clone.
"Oh, that's so funny. I'm going to take such delight in crushing your skull," said Uru, "I'm so naughty."
Then, the lights on one of the trains came on, who is in the driver's seat? None other than me, Phil, the original Monster Killer. "It's okay that you're bad. You're having subway for lunch!"
I push the train into high-gear and hit Uru head-on causing his carcass to spray off into little pieces everywhere. Oh, and I guess 'Bill' manages to leap out of the way to safety, oh goodie.

"Wow, you didn't do so bad back there," said 'Bill.'
"Yeah, and I guess you did a decent job of getting your ass kicked while I saved the day," I says.
"Maybe we don't have to be rivals. Just look at what each of us is capable on our own, just imagine what it would be like if we actually worked together," said 'Bill.'
"Hmm, that's a possibility," I said, "Or else, I could just say, Fuck you, you goddammed wannabe-me asshole."
"Damn, you are about the poorest excuse for a religious man that I have ever seen?"
"You questioning my faith, you hunky cunt-rag?"
"Wait, that's hilarious," said that dickweed as he started to laugh, "You actually think you are a good Catholic."
"Hell-yeah, I am."
"Let's see, you display pride, gluttony, sloth, anger, greed, envy, and lots and lots of lust. Where do these high morals, come in?" axed 'Bill', "Have you seen how real Catholics act, their nothing like you. You are a joke, maybe you should take a long, hard look at yourself before you go around judging others."
"Damn, you are pissy. What is it? Haven't gotten laid in a while?"
"Um, you were the one who just had his virginity announced in front of a hundred werewolves less than an hour ago? Now, if you excuse me, I have to go. I have a date with some girl named Margaret. She sure has some nice big-ole titties," said 'Bill' as he walked away.

DAMN YOU, BILL!!!!!!!!
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[02 Feb 2004|11:08pm]
Man, it's really cold out there. But talking about the weather is lame. So I saw this sweet-ass movie the other day called Black Dog where Patrick Swayze (or the Swayz' as I like to call him) plays a truck driver who isn't a truck driver anymore cause he lost his license and went to prison somehow but I won't reveal how cause that would be some huge SPOILERS, I'll just say that it has something to do with the titular Black Dog, kinda. So non-truck drivin' Swayz is now a mechanic but the mechanic money ain't paying the bills compared to the Truckin Cizzy. Kind of like those po-ass zombie hunters who can barely afford to eat at McDonalds while I can bling it down at classy joints like Culver's. So then the Swayz's boss (you can tell it's a movie because in real life? no one commands Swayze!) So his boss gives him an offer to do some driving but Sway doesn't want to cause that'd be illegal and he could go back to prison. (Although after watching him in the movie Letters from a Killer, I'm sure he could take care of himself in the lock-up). But then Patrick Swayze's really-fucking hot wife says that they will lose their house unless they cn pay $20,000 in back taxes which is exacly the same $20,000 that the illegal truckin' job offers. Snap! Swayz has no choice but to accept. So he heads down South where he gets a load from "Two out of Three Ain't Bad" himself, none other than Meatloaf. Then Sway gets together a posse made up of Randy Travis, some wormy guy, and a black guy who dies. After that, it's danger and hijinks to the max! I'd tell you more but I feel you should really experience BD for yourselves today!

So I was heading out to buy Black Dog on DVD after watching it on HBO when all of a sudden, I notice that there is a message on my goddammed answering machine. Turns out the bishop wants me to head downtown to the church, pronto.

Now I'm at the church.
"Sup, Bishop." I says.
"Hello, Monster Killer."
"So, have you ever seen Black Dog?"
"The reason I called you down here is that there have been a rash of disappearances in the area recently and the evidence appears to suggest werewolvic activity."
"Yeah, I know, I've been busting my balls out there trying to slay them mutherfuckin' bitches."
"Uh-huh," continues the Bishop as he brings out a chart, "At first the growth seemed sporatic, limited to areas by comic book shops and spinsters but the area of infection has grown. The most alarming trend to this increase of activity has been the massive explosion of missing persons cases on the Rosary College campus. This is one of the finest Catholic educational structures in the world and dark creatures are now trying to attack us at our very core."
"Damn, B. Send me in there and I'll cut those Lassie-rejects down to size in time for us to all watch Black Dog tonight!"
"It's not that simple. These werewolves are using advances covert tactics, making offensive moves only during those times when individuals are isolated from one another. These werewolves know our standard patrol patterns, only you have been marginally effective in raiding their assaults as you don't follow any pattern and just seem to wander around."
"Yeah, that's cause me? tactical genius."
"Unusual werewolves call for an unusual plan. We are going to send in an undercover monster killer into the campus in order to rat out the menace."
"Rats? I thought they was goddammed werewolves. I ain't dealing with no hybrid cross-species bestiality shit."
"No, that's a metaphor," the Bishop said as he brought up the roster, "Unfortunately, most of our monster killers are either on-assignment or do not fit within the appropriate age-profile for this mission. This left me with one choice, our covert operative, who must go blend into a crowd of Catholic School students and go entirely undetected. That monster killer is you."
"Fuck yeah! No one will have a clue that I ain't an average college student."

I was Hella-pumped for this assignment! My chance to get a real education for once. See, I have a true Catholic spirit but I lacked the true Catholic cash to pay for the true Catholic tuition so instead I had to go to a heathen State University where I got a lackluster education with my History major and my certificate in Womyn's Studies. Even though I went to a public school, I still made sure to show my Catholic roots by arguing with the professors when it came to the heretical sciences such as evolution and economics.

So here I am in my first class, all of the students are dressed in some boring suits. Damn, I didn't know we were supposed to dress up, I just wore a t-shirt and some shorts that are a little worn through in the crotch.
Some dude comes and sits by me, "Welcome, friend. You must be new. My name is Michael"
"Sup."
"So what brings you here?"
"Just want to explore my faith and learn and shit."
"Hmm? let me give you a few tips. First of all, naughty language like that will send the wrath of the Lord down upon you. Second, you should probably get some new clothes. That t-shirt doesn't really fit in with our professional image, what does your shirt say? 'Monster Killer Convention '03.' Were you a roadie for one of those Satanic-metal bands like Limp Biskit or the Rolling Stones?"
Aw, crap. This shirt could give me away, damn, I should really get some non-promotional shwag shirts sometime. So I'm sitting there naked to my waist getting all cold when some ladies walk in.
"Damn, dude. Did you look at them? I think my cock is gonna explode."
"Oh, I try not to look at girls, any carnal thoughts for longer than three sections and I'm dammed for sure. Those three are all nursing majors and engaged to their boyfriends of six years."
Yeah, so I could just stare at that hot Catholic poon-nanny all day when, who walked in, none other than the hottest chick ever.
"Holy shit! That bitch has such big titties it must take her an hour to do the sign of the cross," I says as the girl looks back at me and stares at my chiseled physique.
"That's Margaret. She is the sweetest girl here, boy she really loves the lord. She is in the choir and is studying to be a nurse."
"I thought those other girls were studying to become nurses."
"They are all studying to become nurses," says Michael.
Margaret comes down and sits by us, "Hi, Michael."
"Hi, Margaret," Michael says as his face gets all red. It's not that hot in here.
"Sup, girl. How you doin?" I says.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she axes.
"Funny story, I was walking down the street and I gave it to, let's say, a Puerto Rican hobo."
"Wow, that's charatable." She says.
"Duh. I know," I says.
"You know," says Margaret as she has an image of recognition in her eye, "You look a lot like someone else I know."
Then our Professor walks in and says, "Welcome, class. I hope you are ready for our first lecture into Economics."

"You got yourself kicked out the class!" yelled the bishop over the phone.
"The professor started talking about the Invisible Hand which is obviously a craven image, the dude was obviously a werewolf desguised as a member of the faculty in order to, I don't know, plan attacks or something."
"You were supposed to sit back and monitor activities not disrupt the entire college. Do you even know what the term 'discreet' means?"
"Of course I know dis-skreet. When somebody wants directions to the Walgreens, I tell 'em to turn left and then it is up on dis-street."
"Ugh. Have you made any progress assimilating into the student population?"
"Oh yeah, I've been keeping a close one on this one smokin' babe Margaret and this one dude, Michael, he's kinda a tool but in his heart, I feel he's a good Catholic, just a little misguided."
"All right, keep an eye on the situation and try not to have anymore disruptions."
"Check."

"Hey, you are that one guy," says some dude.
"No, I'm not the dude who assaulted that Hellbound professor," I says.
"No, not that guy. You look just like Bill," he says as he walks on.
"Bill?" I ponder as I see Michael. "Hey, Mikey!"
"Oh? um? hello? again, what's your name, again?"
"Phil, Part-Time Mon? Part-Time Monkey-type-um-lawyer doodle washing windows, yeah something."
"Okay," says Michael, "Well, I'll see you around."
"Wait, it's Friday night? Aren't we going to party-hardy?"
"Well, some friends and I were going to play some board games."
"Alright, that's kinda-lame. But I'll come."
"Oh, goody."

So, a big group of us all is playing Trivial Pursuit in teams of two. Everyone who is there is with their fianc?e and the only single ones are Michael, me, and that really hot bitch Margaret. So, I suggest that in all fairness, Margaret and I should just duck out of the game and go to her room. But Michael says that we should form a team of three. This is when I learned that Trivial Pursuit is really boring. After the first game, I'm ready to slam a hammer into my dick.
"Damn, when are we going to get some booze?" I says
"Phil, this is a dry campus," says Michael.
"Right, it's so dry that I could use a drink."
"No, we don't drink here," says Margaret.
"Oh, fuck my tits!" says me.
"Such foul language from these goodie-goodies," says a werewolf as he jumps in the window, "I can smell your pure blood."
"All I can smell is some rank nasty-ass shit-eatin' werewolf."
"Hah! You may pretend to be strong but I know that you will beg for your mercy soon just like the rest of these Catholics."
"I? don't know about that," I says as I whip out my .45 and bust a silver cap in his ass.
"Oh my, you felled that beast," says Margaret.
"Your juices flowing now, baby?" I says.
"What?"
"Don't you want to do it, now?"
"Heavens, no. I'm saving myself?"
"Saving yourself?"
"For my future husband," she says
"Then you are a? You all are?" I just figured out why the werewolves were attacking comic book stores, spinster apartments and people who read this blog.

I start running down to the church to pass my info down to the bishop when, all of a sudden, 8 werewolves jump out. Now normally, I could handle this shiznit but I go up to kick one when he grabs my foot and throws me to the ground. Damn, somehow these werewolves are hyper-mega-powered and shit.
"This one will make a wonderful sacrafice," says one of the werewolves.
Then, a mysterious voice utters, "I? am not entirely positive that your previous statement was correct." This figure jumps down and kicks the crap out of one of the werewolves. The rest of them run off in fear.
"You look like you could use a hand, son," says the figure as he pulls me back to my feet. I take a look into his face and see, none other, than goddammed muther-fuckin? me.
"WTF?" I axe.
"My name is Bill, Full-Time Monster Killer!"

- To be continued... sometime -
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[21 Jan 2004|11:18pm]
Alright, so I had some computer problems before and was going to give up on this entry but then I asked WWJD: What Would Jesus Do? But then I remembered that Jesus never had a blog but I guess I still decided to write it again anyway. Luckily, I have a photogenic memory so I should be able to remember all the details. How am I supposed to know you are supposed to save your work as you go along, I'm a monster killer, not some computer lab customer support technician.

I'm in my office at the church when, all of a sudden, the Bishop comes in and starts ragging my case.
He says, "You spend too much time sitting around the Church during those times when there aren't monsters around. You simply idle around, padding your hours and taking away valuable money that could go towards the Church."
"Hey, I need this time. I use it to meditate so that, I don't know, I can be at top mental, physical and spiritual condition," I says, "And the best way for me to meditate is to play Solitare for three hours."
"I know of those monks who use solitare as a way to increase their communion with God."
"Well, that's cause I'm smarter than them."
"Computer games are not a meditation aid." The Bishop retorts, "That's it, you are now teaching Sunday School."
"What time?"
"7."
"But that's when The Simpsons is on."
"The class is at 7 am."
"No, that's not going to work. That's my sleepy time."
"Not anymore."

So now, I'm teaching Sunday School, I guess. Come Sunday at 7 am, the kids pile in.
"You don't look too good, mister," says one of the kids.
"That cause I drank too much of the Blood of Christ last night," I says.
Then there is an awkward pause, of lets say, five minutes.
"Hmm?" I says, "so how's that whole kid thing working out for you guys."
"Good," says another kid.
"That's super." Another five minutes go by.
"So, you guys still pooping yourselves or have you gotten to the toilet stage, yet?"
"I wear big boy underwear."
"Underwear, that's great, Walter," I say.
"My name's not Walter," says the kid.
"Yeah, I know. But I'm bad with names so from now on, all of you are named Walter. Except for the girls, your name is Walterette."
"That's dumb."
"The Bible says respect your elder, so you'd best wizen up, Walterette," I says, "Alright, so let's read some of that Bible, now. How about some Matthew?"
"My name is Matthew!" I shoot the kid a glassy death stare, "I mean, it's Walter."
"So there is this dude named Abraham and cause he loves God so much, he is one damn good farmer. Even though he is really old, he can still get it up and God grants him a kid after he is really nice to some travelers who stop by. Abraham even goes wit the travelers to this place called Sodom, but they are all sinners there so God wants to blow the crap out of the town."
Some of the Walters gasp.
"What?" I axe.
"You said the c-word!"
"You lying dick, I didn't say cunt. So God wants to blow the fuck out of the town but will relent if Abraham can find 50 valorous dudes. Abe is able to jew God down to only 10 dudes but, just like modern-day England, there aren't even 10 souls worth saving," I says.
One of the Walters raises his hand and says, "My dad said that God destroyed Sodom because men were touching each other in the pee-pees."
"Yeah, I know your dad, he is just a homophobic prick," I respond, "So Abraham is just chilling with his son, Isaac, who is named after the bartender from Love Boat. Then, God tells Abraham that he should sacrifice his son to the Lord."
"Why would God make Abraham kill his child?"
"Cause He wanted to test his faith."
"But, my parents love me, they would never kill me, even if God told them too."
"Naw, they are good Catholics, so they would follow God's will. In fact, any of your parents are probably willing to sacrifice you in a moment's notice, if it's what God wants to see."
Walterette runs out of the room crying but I keep on talking, "So back to Abraham. He's all set to cut into his only son when God comes out and tells Abraham that he's been Punk'd and that Isaac will instead be the king and shit."
"Why is God so mean," asks Walter, "If people are nice, they should just go to Heaven, they shouldn't have to prove their fate."
"Yeah, that's a nice idea, in theory," I says, "But unfortunately, the Bible says different, so you are wrong."
"This Bible is stupid, in fact, this whole church is stupid," says Walter.
"Oh, that's it, you little heathen. Don't you appreciate the fact that the Church saves your life every day?"
"What, do you mean in some sort of existential soul-saving sort of way?"
"No, not no exit tent-aul whatever. I mean, we risk out necks going out there and Killin' Monsters."
"That doesn't make any sense," says Walterette.

So I proceed to tell the non-believer a story that had happened the night before. See, let's say that a comely young lass is running down the street being chased by five werewolves. They manage to corner her in a dark alley.
Slowly, the lead werewolf comes up to her and says, "Tonight we shall feast upon your body!"
From the shadows, they hear a whisper, "I don't know about that!" And the werewolves start shuddering in fear
"It cannot be," says one werewolf who is promptly shot dead in the face with a silver bullet.
"But how did he find..." says another as he is shot mid-sentence.
"Hold your ground, denmates. He is but one man, we can fight him together," says the lead werewolf, "Denmates?" Oh yeah, by this point all of the other werewolves are dead.
Then, who walks into the light, none other than... um, me. The lead werewolf continues, "It doesn't matter, even if you can stop us, there is no way you can fight the onslaught of the armies of the damned! Mankind will perish."
"Oh yeah," I says, "Well, you suck." Then I chop off his head with a machete.

Walterette interrupts my story by saying, "You couldn't kill five werewolves. You are too fat."
"This isn't fat. It's just jiggly muscle."

So back to my story...
"Thank you for saving me," says the girl who was being chased.
"Don't worry about it," I says, "It's my part-time job."
"Well, thanks, mysterious stranger," she says as I stare at her big ole titties.

Then, I'm interrupted again.
"What are titties?" axes Walter.
"Those are the things you kids suck from to get milk. I like em too," I says.
"Titties are milk cartons?" says Walterette.
"I'm titties-intolerant," says Walter.
"Okay, you are dumb," I says. Walter was no help so I turn to one of the other kids, "Hey, Walter, you know what I'm talking about, your mom has a killer rack."
"My mom says that you are creepy," says Walter.

Alright, once again with the story.
"So... bet you have to get on your way to keep on fighting evil where ever it may lurk," says the girl.
"Naw, I've got some time to hang out."
"But this is the time in which you are supposed to run away into the night leaving me here to swoon over the mysterious hero who saved me from a perilous fate."
"Well, you standing here and swooning is good and all but it really doesn't lead to me getting a whole lot of action."
"No, that's not the point. See, I'm supposed to keep getting into life-threatening situations and then you have to continually save me. With every encounter, my interest in you will grow and then I will track down small tidbits of info about your life. We will slowly have more and more sexual tension until that magical moment when you will finally reveal your secret identity to me."
"Okay," I says, "We could do that or we could just go get some pie down at Perkins and then do it."
"God, you are a shitty hero. I'm going home."

"So kids," I says to the class, "the moral of the story is that you should wait until after the pie to give the offer of noncommittal sex so that way, no matter what, you at least got a good slice of pie out of the deal. Alright, for the next class, hmm, I don't know what I want to cover. So just read the whole Bible."

I'm starting to get into this whole teaching thing, then the parents come to pick up their kids.
"I'm thirsty, can we pick up some titties from the store?"
"Daddy, why do you want to kill me?"

Yeah, so I guess I'm not teaching Sunday School anymore.
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[21 Jan 2004|10:02pm]
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! I hate the fucking internet. I just wrote a really fucking long post and I go to check one goddammed thing before I post it and my ass-shit of a computer locks up. There's my fucking hour down the toilet when I could have been playing fucking video games or some other damn shit. Fuck! I'm so pissed right now, I could punch a kitten.

Oh, and Happy Birthday to Casey Brown. I can only hope that you continue to blessed, not only in the next year, but for the rest of your life. May your spirit soar.
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[13 Jan 2004|01:44pm]
So while lots of y'all been sittin' back and enjoying a long holiday break, I've been hard at work this entire time. See, it's my job to fight Evil and Evil never takes a vacation! Except for about two weeks every year during the summer when Evil goes up to it's place in the Hamptons. Sometimes Evil invites some of us in the Church to go up there just to show that although there has been an unending rivalry for the soul of man since that time when God cast Satan down to Hell, Evil doesn't take the battle personally. I have yet to accept any of Evil's invitations as I don't want to compromise my morals, that and I have yet to actually receive an invitation.

The missions over these holiday weeks have been pretty mundane with the exception of this mission I had up in Canada. See, I was drivin' along to Schkatche... Sch-at-che, let's say I was going to Alberta when all of a sudden, the lights on my car start a flickerin.' This is some bad news, dude. I was out in the middle of nowhere at this point and even if I could find, like, a Mountie or something, I don't really think he could fix my car since Canadians have yet to develop that level of technology. Eventually, my car just totally dies out and I pull over at the side of the road. I get out of the car and pop the hood and it is none other than some mutha' fugging gremlins.

"Sup?" I ask and get no response, so I go, "What the Hell is you doing there, Gremlin?"
The gremlin chooses not to respond and instead runs his claws through my chest. Now, I is mightly angered that he lacked the politeness to explain himself or even say hello but then I also realized that perhaps I was simply not versed in the ways of gremlineze and this was gremlin for hello. Then I looked down at my bleeding torso, I realized that the gremlin had not only acousted my flesh but also this really kick-ass sweater that my grandma had knitted for me with a reindeer on it. Cultural custom or not, no shit-eatin' gremlin is gonna defile a symbol of a grandmother's love for her adorable grandchild and get away with it. So I go up to the gremlin and procede to punch that gremlin right in the face. That gremlin goes down pretty easy but unfortunately, the ruckus of the fight had alerted his 16 gremlin buddies.
The 16 gremlins start ganging up on me and it looks pretty bad for me until who comes along, none other than a friendly Yeti! See, Yetis are the natural enemies of gremlins. Together, me and the Yeti start pummeling the gremlins into submission. One gremlin gets in a lucky scratch on the Yeti's back and I'm worried that my new buddy is hurt but then the Yeti turns around, picks up that last offending gremlin and throws him clear to the former Soviet-republic of Georgia.
Now, I've got rid of that gremlin problem but my car still isn't running. The Yeti takes a look at it and through a complicated mixture of gestures and snow drawings, tells me that it is a problem that my battery is dead. I pull out some jumper cables but then I remember that the closest car is in North Dakota. That Yeti has another idea, as he hooks up the jumper cables to his very nipples, and damn if that car doesn't start. I start heading back to the states and bid farewell to my good buddy the Yeti.
Once I got back to my apartment, I was excited to read my e-mail as I hadn't read it since I left the country. It wasn't because Canada didn't have internet access, it was just the fact that by law, every e-mail had to be in both English and French since Canada is a bisexual country. French I have no problem with, but there was no way that I was gonna read any e-mail in the language of those crown-hugging, crumpet-humping British. I only read my e-mail in one language, AMERICAN!
So I was all set to go through all of my messages when I click on the first e-mail and then I find out there's a ghost in the machine. A goddammed spectre flies of out my monitor, I chase him around the house with a broom until I finally get him to fly out of a window. I go take a visit to the church. All of the computers are smashed and the bishop tells me that the entire Catholic network is down because some evil entity keeps on sending spirits over the internet to infect our computers. This is not good as a worldwide organization like the Catholic Church is largely dependant upon the information superhighway in order to keep the infastructure functioning at full capability. Plus, I wouldn't be able to check my Catholic Joke-of-the-Day which is usually just about how Lutherans are going to Hell but those never get old.
I decide that I'm going to get my internet access back so I'm gonna purposefully get out another ghost and track it back to it's homebase. So I boot up one of the remaining computers until a message popped up saying, "You've Got Loul Souls." Then a ghost pops out and starts flying around the room. During this time, I reconfigure the main servers so that I can detect his ectoplasmic signal and translate it into a dynamic IP address thus allowing me to use packet sniffing to track the ghost's movement over the internet. I then have the bishop come in and start performing an exorcism ritual, this scares the ghost into jumping back into the computer and hopefully, he will go back to his point of origin. The ghost appears to end up back in Silicon Valley, California.

"Looks like you are headed out west, Monster Killer," says the bishop.
"Better send out the Catholic naval fleet," I says.
"We don't have a naval fleet, besides, why would you need it?"
"You've never heard about the Pirates of Silicon Valley?"

I fly out to California and proceed to find a disturbing lack of pirate-type activity. All, I seem to find are lots of empty warehouses for bankrupt dot com businesses. I'm about to leave when I see some mysterious flashes of light coming from the old pets.com building. I go inside and see two vampires sitting at their workstations drinking blood. I proceed to stake them through the heart with surgical procision. Then, that goddammed sockpuppet dog pops up and I scream and kick it out of blind fear.

"Ow, you kicked my hand, it really hurt."
"What?" I then notice that connected to that hand was a lady, "Sup."
"Hello." Damn, this girl had really greasy hair, some frumpy clothing and smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks but other than that, I thought she could have been kinda hot. "Hey, why did you kill those two?" she asked.
"They was goddammed vampires!"
"No, they weren't, they were just computer programmers."
"But they were all pale and seemed to be afraid of the sun."
"Computer programmers."
"Oh yeah but why were they drinking blood?"
"One of those California fads, like botox."
As my eyes become adjusted to the dim light of the long-forgotten office, I see pentagrams on the wall and soul-capturing devices connected to X-Serves. "Whoa, why are you doing all of this?"
"Because, you all ignored me since I was so ugly. I was never that good with people so I thought I would just become successful with computers and then I would have friends. But then I was a millionare on the internet and still no one liked me. Now I've lost the money and have nothing to show for it so I'll make you all pay."
"Hey, girl. If you need attention, then there is no need to turn to all of this evil. You is crazy."
"Oh yeah, let's see how crazy I am after I cast a spell which will turn your skin into a sea of maggots."
"Crap, I mean you'd be crazy not to let me help you."
"How's that."
"It's time for a makeover!" So I put on some montage music and take her down to the mall to get a new haircut, some makeup advice, a whole new wardrobe, and lots of tanning.
"See, you were never ugly," I says after the makeover, "You just needed some new self-confidence so that your inner beauty can shine through your outer beauty. So, do you want to go get some dinner?"
"Hell no, you rolled a 14 on that pick-up line and there is no way that is gonna crack through my +2 panty armor. Now that I'm pretty and popular, I'm going to go have a meaningless sexual relationship with a football player."
I was pretty sad that I just got rejected by this now-hot woman but hey, I've got my internet access back, I don't need a woman.
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[19 Dec 2003|05:53pm]
Yeah, I loves the Christmas. Recently, I had two mo' awesome Christmas time adventures. First of all, I made some kick-ass fudge using my mom's receipe. Seriously, that fudge is so fucking good, the mere idea of it makes me cream my pants. Crap, now I need to get a new pair of pants. The thing that brings the fudge over the edge is that you add in half a stick of butter, now I know that sounds a little naughty but it's the holidays! It's time to endulge, oh yeah, and it's stupid to worry about a couple pieces of fudge. Let me tell you ladies, your weight shouldn't really matter to guys and if they nag you about it, they are assholes and you should move on. No, what really matters to guys is whether or not you put out, which you should definitely do by the end of the third date.

My other Christmas time adventure was a little different. I was all tired from my busy day making fudge so I decided to take a little nap and then I decided to clock in and go on duty. Sees, I was walkin' along on my dailies (thats what I call my patrol route for MONSTERS!!!) over by the airport when I see, none other than John Travolta. It looks like he has been beat up, pretty badly.

"Sup, John Travolta." I says.
"Ugh... Sup." he responds as he coughs up some blood.
"So... what's up?" I axes.
"Some puny man-animals stole my plane. But they weren't like regular rat-brains, I must be going out of my skullbone but it seemed like those crap-lousy things were covered in fur." says John Travolta.
"Damn, WEREWOLVES!"
"Perhaps, they got onto the airplane somehow and then they got into the cockpit. I didn't know what to do, it was like a test that I wasn't prepared for!"
"Hmm? So are you going to make a Look Who's Talking 4 cause that would be fuckin' sweet shit. Except that the kid would be like 15 now, so you'd have to make him autistic or something so he couldn't talk to people." I said.
"I think they said something about plotting a course for... the North Pole," said Travolta as he passed out like my buddy Ty did once after he downed an entire 18-pack of PBR by himself.

The North Pole, this time of year... that could only mean two things. One, they were planning to throw the Earth's magnetic pole out of alignment shifting the Meridional patterns of the Earth and melting the ice caps. Or two, they were out to get Santa. If it's the former, I get to save the world but that's getting kinda tired at this point. But if it's the latter, I get to fucking save Christmas.

So I go to the bishop and ask to get the Church to charter me a plane so I can head up to Santa's workshop. He goes on about something like, "Santa isn't real and he is just part of the capitolism that destroys the true meaning of Christ's birthday."

Fuck that shit! If the church won't let me go, I'm just going to find a way up there myself. I heads back to the airport and see that there is just one flight headed up to the North Pole. So I go up to the counter and ask, "Um... I'm here to go to the North Pole."
"Ah, and you are part of the science expedition?" asks the person at the booth.
"Of course, you doubting my creds. Of course, I've got my doctorate in whatever science they are studying. You want to bring it, bitch?"
"Uh-huh. What's your name, doctor?"
"Crap," I says until I think of a cover, "Sciencey McSciencestein."
"Okay, I have you right on the manifest," says the person as I get to go through.
As I'm walking out, I here someone else walk up.
"I'm Brent Survick, here to check in for the expedition," says some science looking-like guy.
"I'm sorry but the only one left on the list was Sciencey McSciencestein."
"It doesn't say that on the list, it says Brent Survick."
Then the person behind the counter starts to cry, "I can't read."
I take this opportunity to board the plane and head up to the North Pole.

The flight up to the North Pole is really boring, I just wish I had brought some fudge... and now I wish I had brought a change of pants. I also wish I had gotten that new game Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga for the Game Boy Advance. See, it's the spiritual sequel to Paper Mario on the N64 or Super Mario RPG on the SNES but this time the action is portable so it can go anywhere... even the North Pole, as long as you have a copy which I unfortunately don't.

As we get to the North Pole, I see a magnifigant shining structure in the distance. I try pointing it out to the scientists but they don't see it. This must be Santa's workshop out there, you need to believe and have a pure heart to see it. That explains why no scientists have ever seen it cause there souls are dead and shit. The plane lands and I head out into the icy tundra headed towards Santa's place. This place is frigid, even more so than that one girl I dumped after she didn't put out by date #4. Damn, my nips is fucking busting through my jacket, they are ready to explode sending man-boob shrapnel out everywhere.

Eventually, I make it inside Santa's place and it is deserted. I'm too late, I thinks. Then some werewolf mercenary jumps out and attacks me.
"Sup, werewolf."
"Sup, Monster Killer," he says with a smile, "I was wondering if you were going to make it."
"Well, I did."
"Don't you wonder about how I knew you were coming? Doesn't it give you a sense of forboding that you have been lured into a trap?"
"No, not really."
"Shouldn't you be a little more on-guard for these sorts of things?"
"Yeah, probably, but you know, I used to try to understand it all but then it got all confusing. So now I just try to ride it out and let the shit sort itself out."
"Pah! I thought you would be a challenge for me, since they say you are one of the best but now I see that you are all hype. Don't worry, it will all be over soon."
Then the werewolf does like 4 backflips over my head and gets into a fighting stance.
"Show me what you've got, you pitiful whelp," says the werewolf.
So then I shoot him right between the eyes with a silver bullet, I hate cocky bastards.

"Good job," says a familar voice as he heads towards me, "Rat-brain!"
It's none other than John Travolta holding a blade to the neck of none other than Santa-Fucking-Claus.
"Holy shit! It's Santa-Fucking-Claus!" I yell out.
"Hi, there, Monster-Killer," says Santa.
"Shut your talking-holes both of you," says John Travolta, "Now, I have this cutting-knife directly to the neck-throat of Santa and if you make any sudden locomotion-moves, it will be Santa's end-death!"
"Why, John Travolta, why?"
"Because, I want to destroy Christmas to get rid of people's faith in Christianity so I create a better-good world-planet where there is only one religion-belief system-group, Scientology! I will send out my werewolf mercenaries to pose as Santa and create chaos in the street-roads and all man-animals will come knee-crawling to their true help-savior, L. Ron!"
"God damn, you're a cunt rag, John Travolta!" I says.
"Perhaps I am. But as you can see my plan-scheme is flawless. You were my only threat as you might have been able to stop my werewolves so I lured you here so that I could take out two flying-birds with one rock-stone."
"Damnit, I'll still fight you!"
"But don't you see," says John Travolta as he pulls Santa closer, "I have leverage over you."
"Maybe I have some leverage over you!"
"A Monster-Killer having leverage over a movie star, that'll be the day."
I reach into the dead werewolf's pocket and pull out a copy of Dianetics, I then whip out my dick and prepare to piss on it.
John Travolta screams, "Not the Holy Book!"
"A Monster-Killer having leverage over a movie star, that'll be the day," I say as I start pissing.
Then, John Travolta freaks out and throws the knife right he has at Santa's neck right into my leg and I'm down bleeding on the ground.
"Aw, crap," I says as I see one of my four humors leaking out.
"You will pay for your disrespect-insolance!" says John Travolta, "Now you will perish-die."
"I don't know about that," says Santa and he turns to John Travolta and punches the Scientologist straight in the ball-nuts (Damn, now he's got me doin' it.)
While John Travolta is phased, Santa runs over and bandages up my leg with some wrapping paper, "Thanks for the help, Monster Killer."
"No prob, Santie!"
John Travolta takes this opportunity to run away and hop onboard his plane which flies off as he yells, "Guess I'm Staying Alive this time, Ha!"
"Damn, Santa, he got away." I says.
"Don't worry, I know when he's been sleeping, I know when he's awake. I know he's been bad or good and he has certainly been a naughty boy this year. I'll just drop a 10-ton lump of coal on his Scientology/ Werewolf-training grounds and that should do the trick."
"Wow, you kick so much ass, Santa."
Santa chuckles at what I say, "You know, it's touching when an adult still has enough joy to believe. And it is even more touching when they believe so much that they are willing to kill monsters. You have already done so much, Monster Killer, but can I ask of you one more thing?"
"Of course," I say.
"Can I have some of your fudge? It's so much better than the standard milk and cookies."
"Hell yeah, you can have some of my cream-your-pants fudge!"
"Good, you should wake up now."
"What?"

Then, all of a sudden, I wake up in my bed. Guess it was all a dream and I actually didn't meet Santa. Hot damn, I'm hungry, I goes up to the fridge to get some fudge. Wait a fucking minute, there's a plate missing! Who the Hell stole my fudge? Hey, there's a package in here. Holy shit, it's Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga for the Game Boy Advance. Guess some burglar must have stolen my fudge and dropped this game out of his burglar pocket. Hmm, I will just have to make some more for Santa when he comes by on Christmas Eve.
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It's the most wonderful time of the year. [13 Dec 2003|06:20pm]
[ mood | jolly ]
[ music | Jingle Fuckin' Bells ]

Damn, I loves the Christmas season. I goes through all of my beloved ornaments, like the one of Jesus and one of Captain Kirk and one of the Pillsbury Doughboy. Of course, while I quite enjoy the Doughboy most heartily, I has a few problems with some of the other Pillsbury products. See, I bought some o' that Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough yesterday and then I thought it would be a right fine breakfast, but then I ate too much of it and had to puke. Now, normally, I quite enjoy puking, it usually means I've had a hard night of partying, like this one time, I puked on this one girl's shirt and she got so disgusted that she threw it off and was only standing there in her bra. At least, that's what my friends told me, I don't remember much of the experience. I wish I did, man, I think she was hot but I'm not sure. But this morning puking cause of cookie dough sucked, I wondered why I was even puking... did they Irish up the cookie dough with a little rum, if so, maybe I should invite some ladies over for some cookies.

Puke or no puke, I still had all my kick-ass ornaments but I had to go out and get somesort of ornament recepticle to display them on, I thought that few devices would prove to be more acceptable for this job than a dandy ole' Christmas tree. So I jump on the bus and head out for the Christmas Tree district of town and start looking something that I can take home. Problem is, the trees is so expensive and money doesn't grow on them. I even take a look at some trees with branches that are limper than my good buddy Dan's pecker but they still want to charge me 30 bucks. So I keep on walking until I reach a dark, ominous field. I wasn't going to wander in there until I saw a sign surrounded by blinking lights that reads: 'X-Mas Trees. Cheap!' Hmm... now my monster killin' sense is giving me a sign of ominious danger... but that must mean that the real danger is that I might miss out on these great deals if I don't act now. So I runs in real quick-like to check outs the invitory.

"Who dares defile this sacred land!" says some mysterious voice.
"Sup, got any Christmas trees?" I axes.
"Of course, you want to kill a living creature so that you can mount it for display for three weeks covered in your infernal man-animal technology and then proceed to toss it onto the curb with your rat-infested refuse," says the voice.
"Yeah, that's about the plan," says me.
"Then, step forward and witness me," adds the voice.

So through the darkness, a light flashes on and illuminates some dude in a trenchcoat, he smells real bad but I go up and shake his hand anyway. Ew, this guy has worked for too long in the fields, all I can feel on his hand is pine pitch and needles.

"What kind of tree are you looking to murder?" axes the duder.
"Hmm, my place is pretty small, so I'd probably look into getting a little tree."
"Ahh, you wish to kill an infant tree, so that you would curse it to an early death before it's branches come to full maturity."
"Exactly," I'm impressed with this guy, "You seem to know, like, exactly what I want."
"I think of the most vile thing possible that disgusts me to my core and that turns out to be what you think."
"Hmm," this is starting to get a little awkward, so I try to open it up a little by saying, "So what do you want for Christmas?"
"The liberation of my kind from the tyranny of man," screams out the trenchcoat guy.
"I want a waffle maker."
The guy turns and laughs, "The only thing you are getting for Christmas is a coffin, made of plastic!"

Suddenly, branches come out and grab my limbs, immobilizing me, as the dude removes his trenchcoat revealing, Holy Poop, he's a goddammed tree! Then a huge branch hits me on the head and everything goes black.

As I come to, I see that I am strapped to a big metal table by strips of tape. I can't really move all that much so that kinda blows. Maybe I should have just paid 30 bucks for that really shitty tree.

"Do you know what's coming, human?" says the tree as his root structure drags him closer to the table.
"Sweet Jesus, what the Hell is that?" I yell out looking at the mound of flesh attached to the tree.
"Oh, it just happens to be the face of our former oppressor who owned this plantation. It allows me to disguise myself as a human, in order to lure fools like yourself into here. Think of it, ha, as an ornament."
"That's really messed up, dude."
"Is it? Your kind wears the flesh of my cousin, the cotton plant, on your chest. Now, I find that to be sick," as he grabs a chainsaw.
"Hey, all I wear is spandex."
"As I have gathered from strapping you to the table, I almost wish you would have killed a plant if it meant that I wouldn't have gotten such an intimate view at your... anatomy."
"I'm just showing off what my Lord and Savior gave me," I says
"Your Lord and Savior? Pah, lies. The real God is a mighty Pine tree, perhaps a Fir, but most likely a Pine! It was He who granted us life after we were planted onto this Sacred Indian Burial Ground..."
"Sacred Indian Burial Ground!"
"I'm sorry, Sacred Native American Burial Ground."
"That's better."
"And such, we were not only given life, but mobility. Now, we shall spread our pine cones around the world, creating a race of superintelligent trees!"
"No, mankind will fight you!"
The tree lets out a mighty laugh, "Hah! There is no way that man could win a war against the trees. If he wipes us out, there will be no root structure to preserve the topsoil he needs to grow slaves to eat, or as you call them, crops. Even if man could survive without top soil, the planet would soon run out of oxygen. No, the world of man will fall leaving behind a new and better world, where there will be no killing and no pollution... only photosynthesis and lots of shade! Now, I will chop you up into little pieces and place you on my brothers as real ornaments! There is no way that we can fail!"
"Hmm... I don't know about that. Sounds like a good plan but you forgot one thing. See, you are a race of evil mutant trees... and evil mutant trees sound a lot like monsters to me. Why don't you reach into my pocket and pull out a business card."

The tree reachs into my pocket and slowly reads the card, "Phil, Part-Time Monster Killer."
"That's right," I says as a snap free from the tape holding me down, guess he should have killed a tree and used some twine to tie me down, "And guess what, bitch, that card is printed from non-recycled pulp." I kick the chainsaw out of his branch and pick it up for myself.

"My brothers! Kill the oppressor!" he yells as a flurry of trees head in my direction sporting razor-sharp pine needles.
"Guess it's time for me to do some pruning," I says as I start chopping away. I take down about fifty of them but then they start to get a little smarter. Two trees come right up to me and I turn 'em into firewood. Four of them then try to lock me in a pincer move but I do a backflip out of there and proceed to chop em up. Another tree comes from behind and knocks my chainsaw away.
"Die, human!"
"Hey, your needles are looking a little dry. You want to watch out, you might be flammable," as I flick my lighter right onto his branches.

This just leaves the leader. I wonder where he ran off to, oh, there he is with the chainsaw that got knocked away from me. Crap! So he starts running after me and I flee into a shed and lock the door. He starts cutting his way in so I pulls some MacGyver shit, and make a lasso out of a string of Christmas-tree lights that I proceed to toss on him as soon as he comes in. I grab a tree stand and lock his trunk into it, immobilizing him.

Hmm, so I was able to convince the bishop that I should be able to write down this tree-killing onto my time sheet so that was pretty sweet. And I ended up giving the trees that I killed to the orphanage for the kids. And I finally got a Christmas tree myself, see the tree leader is still alive and I have him in my living room strapped to that tree stand. Problem is that it is kinda hard to decorate my tree when it tries to kill me everytime I get within 5 feet of it. But I did manage to get a Santa hat on that human face he has on his branches so that looks kinda jolly.

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[04 Dec 2003|11:07pm]
[ mood | enthralled ]

Been a long time, shouldn't have left ya, without a dope beat to step ta.

I've been real busy, you know, with killin' monsters, and shit. But I decided that I should take a little time to detach myself from the current situation in my life and I figured that the best way to do dat would be to write about my experientials in a journal entry. Writing is a way for me to express myself in a way that I cannot through the conversational means. I'm thinking about expanding my shit into other mediums like paintings except than I remembered that painting is for pussies.

So I was sitting around the church waiting to get some sort of plaque for this vampire I killed while I was on stakeout for Halloween. See, I had seen this really smokin' babe and decided that I needed to protect her from... what do I kill? Oh yeah, monsters. I needed to protect her from monsters and I decided that the best way for me to do that was to hide in the dumpster across the street and stare in her bedroom window all night long, cause... bedrooms are a place where monsters attack. Well, I'm staking-out and shit when all of a sudden some vampire comes along and tries to bite me.

So I says to the vamp, "WTF?"
The vamp says, "Why are you speaking in letters, hobo?"
"No, dude, it's an acronym for what the fuck, I just didn't want to be profane, there are ladies around," I says, "Besides, I ain't no hobo. I'm a monster killer."
"Really, then how come I've never seen you around?" axes the creature of the night.
"Oh, see, I's is in the werewolf killing division downtown, I don't really get around to vampires that much."
"But you work downtown? You probably knew Conrad back when he worked down there."
"Yeah, he was a good kid. Whatever happened to him?"
"I sucked out his blood and his immortal soul died leaving behind a demon that inhabits his body."
"Huh," I said scratching his chin, "What's he up to now?"
"He works 3rd shift at Denny's."
"That's kind of a poorass way to spend eternal life."
"Well, he just didn't have good networking. There's a lot of profit to be made sucking the life of the innocent but you've got some underworld connections," says the vampire.
"Hey, you don't have to explain it to me. My college had a business school."
"Hmm, if we are done here, I think I'll go suck some blood."
"Hmm," says me, "I should probably kill you as you are an unholy dark creature."
"Aww, come on," as the vamp begins to boast, "I've killed highly-trained private-sector vampire killers. Werewolf killers just have overdeveloped furry complexes. And the Catholic Church's monster killing divisions are a dying relic of a joke."
That was it, that son of a bitch vampire just dissed my church so I whipped out a stake and jabbed it into his heart and the dude was dead.

So that brings me back to waiting to get a medal, which was before I wrote this but after I killed the vampire. Then, some of the church dudes comes in to obviously congradulate me.
"Sup," I says.
"Where were you on Halloween?" asks one of the priests.
"Killing that vampire, is this some kind of test for the medal?"
"No, don't you remember what your orders were?"
"Yeah, protecting that elementary school charity haunted house. Don't worry, I came and checked it out after I killed the vamp. That place was dead, all I found was a big pool of red paint."
"That pool of red paint would be the blood of the innocent," said my pal, the Bishop.
"Hmm, then I was kinda 1 for 2 that night, huh?"
"Well as there are 47 people reported missing that night, you are more 1 for 48," said the Bishop.
"Damn, B. Learned my lesson with that one, just have to bring the kids on the stakeout with me next time."
"We are putting you on probation, you have acceptable monster killing skills and your faith is true but I'm afraid that your expression of that faith can be a little... misguided."
"You cunt-rags saying that I don't love my mother-fuckin' Lord and Savior?" I gets ornery when they question my Catholic blood.
"You are going to provide cover for us on a simple fact-finding mission, some nut in Oklahoma believes that he has found a direct portal to communicate with God. This should be an open-and-shut case to disprove the so-called 'Miracle,' all we need you to do is stay out of the way.."

So I might be suspended from duty but first, road trip! We bust out our sweet 1996 Chevy Lumina mid-size and drive down to Oklahoma. I don't know that much about Oklahoma but it turns out it was pretty damn boring. Lots of corn and other crops, but if some dude thought he could speak directly to God, I wanted some of whatever his crop was.

So we get to the dude's ranch and the bishop goes up to talk to him.
"Hello, my child," says the Bishop.
"Sup, Bishop," says the dude, "At last, you've come. Now the council is ready to witness Him."

Turns out this dude got people from all the different religions together so that they could all see the Big Man himself.
The dude starts philosophying, "It has many different names, Heaven, Eden. The Lutherans call it Vor-ta-Vor, the Mormon word is... well, unpronounceable. But whatever name you choose, God resides in one place and I have found a portal to that place."
The Methodist stands up, "Heresy."
That's impossible," objects a Hebrew man.
An Anglican stands up too but I don't listen to him since his False god lives in London, aka the King of England!

Still, we all decide to take a chance and go out to an empty field. It really blows and it's damn anti-climatic... until giant rock-towers shoot up from the Earth and a blue mist rises up from the ground. It's like a laser Floyd show now, so slightly less sucky than the empty field. The blue mist comes together and forms a face.
"God!"
"Allah!"
"Yahweh!"
"King of Engl... I mean, God!"

"I have many faces but perhaps this one will suit you best.," says God as he adopts a face looking a lot like Santa.
A Lutheran goes up first, "We have travelled far!"
"Yes, for all the years that I have inhabited this place, no traveller has reached this barren land. How did you reach here?"
The bishop steps forward, "We came here in a Chevy Lumina."
"This Chevy Lumina. Could it carry my essence?"
One of the ministers walks up, "I don't know, it's only a mid-size."
"Bring this Chevy Lumina closer so that it may spread my power across the galaxy."
"I don't know about that," as I go to question this being, "What does God need with a Chevy Lumina?"
"Who is this puny thing that questions me?" asks 'God.'
"Shouldn't You know? Aren't You God?" After I ask that, he shoots me with some lightning bolts out of His Eyes and that really hurts.
God looks pissed, "Now bring me what I want!"
"No," says the bishop and the rest of the religous officials as God proceeds to shoot more eye-bolts as we all run away.
We run for the Chevy Lumina and hightail it to the Oklahoma state border as the False God chases us, luckily we all make it. Unfortunately, we didn't really destroy that False God so just stay out of Oklahoma for, like, um... forever, I guess.

The bishop calls me into his office.
"Back there in Oklahoma, you went above my head, tried to take out a powerful entity that you knew nothing about, and endangered all our lives," he said as he chewed me out.
"Yes, sir," I said as I got ready to pack up my office.
"And if you ever do something like that again, I may just have to promote you! Your back on full-time but from now on, I'm going to keep my eye on you, Monster Killer!"

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It's tough being a workin' man. [19 Oct 2003|09:29pm]
So its almost Halloween, ie the most busiest tyme of the year fo' Monster Killin. And of course, to make sure we are all readies and shit for the onslaught by a group of the most horrible creatures ever created by Satan, this is when the Vatican scheduled our quartly inspection of our church/monster killing office. So I'm busting my balls trying to make sure that I have filed all the paperwork correctly on all of my werewolf kills. Dammit, I signed up to be a Monster Killer, not no Post-Monster Killing Report Filing Desk Jockey Guy! It boils my blood, it does.

I is sitting there, cooling off after all my report filings that took way too long, like half a fuckin hour, so I goes down to the break room and I have some pickles. I finish the pickles, thusly I venture to play some Viewtiful Joe on the Cube in my office. Man, that game kicks hella-mounts of ass. Be warned that if you decide to get said game, you will need to contract out some sorta industrial factory in order to mass produce asses so that the game can summerially kick them. That's the only way you are going to keep up the ass/ass-kicking ratio, brotha.
But while I'm sitting there, enjoying a great throwback to 2d gaming with gameplay that's as tight as steel ass (my ass is made of steel because I had to get my flesh ass replaced because Viewtiful Joe kicked it so damn hard), when all of a sudden, my supervisor comes in and tells me that I need to clean up the break room.

I tell my supervisor, "Why me, why can't you make Phil do it?"
"You are Phil."
I goes, "Oh yeah, sometimes I forget that's my name and assume it's someone else. Still, there are plenty of people in this church, make them do it."
Supy says, "They are all deep in prayer asking for God to protect the Earth this Halloween."
So I axes, "Well, while they is at it, why can't they just ask God to do one o' those miracular things and clean the room. The Dude is like, omnipotent, I'm sure he wants this place to be clean, I mean, it is His House."
My supervisor then reiterates, "Go clean now before the bishop gets here."
"Okay, okay."

I heads myself down to the break room, now it's actually really clean except for some jackass who dripped pickle juice all over and some dusty artifacts in the corner by the microwave. I can't find a rag so I try sucking the pickle juice off the carpet and that doesn't work too well so I put a throw rug over it. I then take the duster and go over to the artifacts. They are pretty boring stuff that we are just holding for a while in secret so the forces of evil don't try and find em. I don't see what's so great, it's just a sheet with some big ole stain on it, looks like some hippie who hadn't taken a shower for weeks and left his gunk on it and some big golden cup with some fluid in there. I was about to take a sip from what was in there when alls of a sudden, I see a big ruby on a necklace chain. Some sort of Holy Bling-Bling!

See, this ruby on a chain fits in as a possible solution to a greater problem that I is havin. There is this pretty girl named Susy who works at the local soda shop who won't go on a date with somebody unless they give her some sort of special girl. I figure that the Church wouldn't mind if I borrowed this necklace, so I leave a note saying "IOU One Red Pulsating Necklace - Monster Killer"

I clock out and go down to the soda shop, Susy is working and so I says, "I'd like a big ole Root Beer Float!" I proceed to enjoy my rootbeer float as I read in the newspaper about the crazy antics of David Blaine, man that guy is a retard. I continue reading until the necklace starts burning into my palm and I remember why I am there.

"Sup, Susy."
"Sup, Monster Killer," she says.
"Wanna go on a date on Friday?" I axes.
"Sure." she goes.
"With me?"
"No," Susy says as she breaks my Monster-Killin' Heart.
"But I got you a present," I says as a hold up the necklace.
"Ooh, it just gave me a shiver, it's like I can hear a dark, mysterious voice telling me to put it around my neck," she says as her eyes grow blank.
"Well, you can't go wrong with dark, mysterious voice advice," I add, "so will you go out with me?"
"Anything, anything, just give me the necklace," she says as I hand it over. Sweet, I gots a girlfriend!

So she puts the necklace on and then just starts going, "Muh wah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah!"
Then some customers come up to the register, "We'd like to pay please," they say.
"You'll pay..." Susy says as claws shoot out of her hands into the skulls of the customers, "FOR ETERNITY IN HELL!"
"Damn girl, settle down," I says. "I know customers can be a little annoying but still."
"You fool," Susy goes as her skin boils away, "Don't you realize that it was the essence of a demon contained within that jewel and it was released into this body when the girl put it around her neck."
"Man, girls sure chance once you get into a relationship."
"Die, Monster Killer."

So, then Susy/Demon shoots a ball of flaming acid at me from out of her mouth. I dodge out of the way. I grab a knife from a table to fend off her attacks but sadly, it is a butter knife and does little good in the battle against evil. The Soda Girl/Unholy Hell Beast throws the body of one of the customers at me, I'm able to deflect it but it distracted me for long enough for the Potential Date/ Potential Bringer of the Apocolypse to kick me to the wall.

"Now you will die, but because you brought me here, I will allow you to have your final words." says the demon with nice tits.
"Okay, how come I was holding the necklace for so long but you never possessed me, it must have been because of my pure soul." I ask then um... answer.
"You never actually put the necklace over your head. It can only work when it's around your neck..."
"Must have been my pure soul."

The beast comes running at me when all of a sudden I remember a time when I've been in a situation like this before, I dash under her with a sliding kick and then proceed to do a slow-motion helicopter kick like Viewtiful Joe does, man I must have gotten a lot of Viewtiful points with that combo. It fazed the Susy-stealing helion but not long enough, it grabbed me by the neck and then began to choke the life out of me.

"DIE MONSTER KILLER!" the demon said as I started to black out.
"I... don't... know... about... THAT!" I said as, with my last ounce and a half of strength, snapped the necklace away from her neck.
"NO! Not to be trapped again in that cursed amulet!"

The demon proceeds to get sucked from Susy's body back into the ruby. Susy then collapses to the floor in a naked, bloddy heap.

"So we still going out on Friday?"
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So... Real life intervenes [17 Oct 2003|09:10pm]
So I was chatting to yall bout my adventures with And Roy then some shit went down. I'd just like to say that I really love the work that Sigfried and Roy do and that I hope Roy makes a full recovery. That being said, let's talk about some other politics.

The Catholic Church is currently dealing with the question whether or not it should allow the priests to marry. On the one hand, I'm saying that these dudes deserve to get sum pussy more than anyone else cause they are all up in God and shit. But on the other hand, I don't want them to be able to marry cause then the Priests will take all of the choice box leaving us regular Joes (or Monster Killers) with nuthin'.

So, since Roy is actually hurt, let's say I'm in Egypt. I'm wandering around doing some archeological digs, yeah, I can be a monster killer yet still be interested in archeology.... Captain Picard was the captain of a Galaxy-class ship, the most advanced vessel in the entire Alpha-fuckin-quadrant yet he still had an interest in archeology... it's called multi-tasking you friggin ass-monkeys. So I was wondering around the Valley of the Kings when all of a sudden I get caught in some quick-sand. This makes me think, that I am like totally dead. Left with no other optiones, I pray to my Catholic God.

Luckily, I fall through the quick sand into some sort of mega Bombad TOMB! Thanks to my Lord and Savior, JC, I make the trip unharmed. Now, I feel like I am Lora Croft, Tomb Raider, except that my tits are slightly smaller, even though I can lick my own nipples. If you ever see me, just ask, I'll do it, my nips is totally lickable.

So I'm in this crypt and I see a muther-fuggin mummy. I goes up to the mummy and goes, "Sup, mummy."

The mummy goes, "WOWDHWOIYWBIDHD!"

I respondes, "So how's that whole mummy thing working out for you?"

The mummy goes, "WOWDHWOIYWBIDHD!"

The mummy isn't exactfully giving me lots of info, so I goes and reads some papryus that is lying around. (Yeah, I can read hyroglyphics, so what? You pressing me, asshole!) I figure out that the mummy has had it's brain removed and placed in a big ole' jar of preservatives. The mummy comes over and starts chokin' me, this is quite understandable since I would be pissed if some heathen priests took my brain out, yo. So I goes and looks for tha mummy's brain, unfortunately I canna find such an organ, fortunately I can find it's liver so I stick that in his head.

"Ha! Ha! Now with my ancient knowledge of building pyramids and shit, I will be able to conquer your foolish hewman world! Hahahahahahaha muh wa hahaha hah!" sayz da Mummy.

Shit, I realizes, I gotz to find a way to destroy his liver. Then I bust out a Pasbt Blue Ribbon that I had stored in, let's say, my pocket, I pour the PBR in his ear and his liver explodes spraying skull juice all over my body. Boo-yah!
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Viva Los Vegas [02 Oct 2003|11:43pm]
So last time I checked in, I had been in Cuba and my good buddy, none other than And Roy of Sigfried And Roy had died sacraficing himself and all to save me. And Roy's actions were noble and true and as a good Catholic this meant that I owed a Honor Debt to him. I had to figure out something that would make And Roy happy and I figured he'd enjoy being alive again so I took him to the one place where there were enough mystical forces to try and bring him back to life... Vegas.

Problem is, see, there is a lot of magic in Vegas but it is largely BLACK MAGICK! One who properly knows how to utilize BLACK MAGICK can do some neat-ass shit with it but those fools who tamper with the metaphysical makeup inherit to BLACK MAGICK will usually end up losing not only their bodies but also their immortal souls. I didn't have time to think about this inherit philosophy as I saw an ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET as soon as I got off the bus with And Roy! I was going to just march right on in but then I realized that I had dead And Roy with me, now, it had been easy enough to get And Roy's corpse onto the body as he looked to be in better condition than most of the passengers on the bus but getting him into a classy casino buffet was going to be a little more difficult.

Just then, I remembered how just a few weeks back, I had watched a great movie on TV called Weekend at Bernies II starring that one Andrew McCarthy guy. Now, I will admit that I had missed out on the first exciting chapter of the Bernie saga but part II was still pretty good on it's own once I figured out that Bernie was dead about 2/3 of the way through the movie. Since the tactics of pretending that Bernie was alive worked pretty well on me, I decided to try the same with my associate And Roy. Once I looked at And Roy, I realized that this wasn't going to work as well as I expected, since I had used him as a raft to float over from Cuba, his body had become bloated and had started to decay so that he smelled like rotting dog shit.

Realizing that time was of the essence if I was going to get to the Early Bird special, I decided to grab the body and run for the door anyway. I had almost made it past when, let's say, I was stopped by a guard.
"Glad to see you could make it, sir," said the guard.
"Thanks, man," I says.
"I wasn't talking to you, I was speaking to our guest of honor," said the guard.
Guest of honor, I thought, I simply had a rotting bloated sack of dog shit with me.
The guard brought out his hand, "Mr. Louie Anderson, I'm a huge fan."
"Right, um... Mr. Louie doesn't want to talk right now. He's gotta practice his... I don't know... guitar," I says all crafty and what not.
So I sets down the corpse at a table as I go to get some food by the time I've come back, the body is missing. Now, I'm pissed, losing the body totally fucks up my honor debt. Upon reaching the table, I find a ransom note.

The note reads: I thought Louie was cleber enough not to come 'round this town no more after we chopped off one of his testicles but I guess not. You will either pay off his gambling debts by midnight tonight or else the laughter dies.

Hmm... fighting off the Vegas mob in an attempt to prevent the murder of a dead body... I don't know about this, it's not exactly in my job description, that was until I saw a stray hair on the ransom note... And Roy's corpse had been kidnapped... by werewolves!!!!!!!

It wasn't too hard to track the trail of the werewolves, all I needed to do was follow the stench. Once I found the body, I was worried, first of all, the corpse was in much worse shape than I had left it, as if it had been left in a pile of food refuse for weeks, I was afraid that they had roughened him up. Secondly, the corpse had been left out in the open, it was a trap. Even with my Monster Killer sense tingling, I had to run out there and grab the body and run. Damn, it was heavier than I remembered and was really sticky. Then, I was shocked when the corpse started talking.

"Bawwww!" said the corpse in a whiny tone.
"God-damned Zombie!" was my response as I through a knife into the belly of the beast but the blade, instead of piercing the flesh, was instead aborbed somewhere in the mountain of fat rolls on the body.
"What are you doing? Ow." said the maybe Zombie.
"Wait a minute, you are the real Louie Anderson," I said.
"Yes, now why are you taking me away from my delicious pile of chicken bones, there's still some marrow in there I can suck out," said the 'comedian.'
"Hmm, some werewolf bookies are trying to kill you, they also have kidnapped my friend....'s body. Maybe there's some way we can help each other out," I says.
"I'm listening, is there a ham in it for me?"

So then, I give Louie Anderson a rag soaked in ether, I tell him it's a pie and then he eats it right up. I then Louie over to the werewolves and we have a good laugh over the mistaken identity. As I hear Louie's screams, I carry the body of And Roy over to one of those 24-hour Marraige/Unholy Resurrection chapels and Elves begins the process of putting And Roy's katra back into his body. The ceremony is almost complete when there is a sudden explosion and all of a sudden, who pops in, none other than Celine Dion.

Well, crap, I doubt want to fight her... oh well, it's another story.
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It's a quiz. Aka a lame update [30 Sep 2003|12:19am]
omarion is..
Omarion is your babydaddy!


Which B2K member is your babydaddy?
brought to you by Quizilla
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It's so real. [11 Sep 2003|11:06pm]
I hate fucking travelling. You gotta spend all this time packing and then you have to go through airport security where you get strip-searched by a woman with a moustache and then you have to get on a plane where there will be some annoying kid who cries the whole time and once you get off the plane you have to deal with funny foreign people that don't understand that everyone should know English already and if they don't they are stupid and then you have to go look at all of the touristy spots and then you have to go try and pick up foreign women but instead end up committing some sort of cultural crime that get you locked up in a smelly prison for the rest of your trip and then you have to get back on some new plane and fly home and as soon as you get home, you have to go right back to the daily routine.

Yep, I fucking hate fucking travelling but at least I'm doing the Lord's work.

See, the Church wanted to send me down to Cuba, a land that was formerly quite the hotspot for us Catholics. Problem is that some guy named Fidel Castro took over and he's an atheist (For those of you who aren't in the know, an atheist is like a more-religious Unitarian). So while there are still lots of Catholics over in Cuba, God Bless 'Em, our monster killing facilities have begun to fall into disrepair. I was going to go down, take a looksies, kill any monsters and come home in time for dinner.

Before I headed down to Cuba, or Qou-bah as the natives call it, I made sure to do plenty of research. I watched the latest Will Smith - Martin Laurence hit BAD BOYS II, which (SPOILERS) has a third-act that takes place in Cuba. From this movie I learned that Gabrielle Union is really hot and not that much about Cuba.

Once I got off the plane in Cuba, someone handed me a glass of water. Some guy in a magnificant cape came up and told me not to drink the water. For a second, I thought this well-dressed man was some sort of warlock who had put a curse on my beverage but it turns out, that it was none other than my good buddy: And Roy.

"Hey, long time, no see. Found Sigfried, And Roy?" I axed.
"Nope but I thought I'd come to Cuba to look for him," said And Roy.
"Why is that?" I pontificated.
"Cause I think he might be looking for the fabled Cuban White Tiger," added And Roy.
"Well, good luck, buddy."

So And Roy walked away at this point cause he's a really busy dude and what not. I went down to the place where I was supposed to meet my contact when all of a sudden who comes out, none other than Fidel Castro and a cadre of men with large machine guns.

"Ha! Ha! I meet you, fabled Monster Killer!" said Castro.
"Sup, Castro," I said trying to be polite.
"I bet you mega-bombad wonder why I lured you here to Qou-bah! only to ensnare you in big trap?"
"Not really."
Castro continued, "I bring you for vengance! Do you remember proud werewolf that you murder in Miami?"
"Not really."
"He was my den brother!"
I gasped, "That means, that either you were Boy Scouts together or that, you are a..."
Castro laughed, "WEREWOLF!"
"Of course, you'd have to be some sort of unholy creature to think that Communism would ever work in a real society," I says.
"Now, my manservants will shoot in your head many times," said Castro.

"I beg to differ," said a mysterious voice, it was none other than And Roy, "Where have you been hiding Sigfried?"
"Who is this Sigfried?" said a confused Castro, "Troopa, shoot the shiny man." And then they shot And Roy a lot, obviously this was all part of And Roy's master plan as he let out what appeared to be his death cry.
"Now you die for reals, Monster Killer!" yelled Castro.
"I... don't know about that," says I, "I think you may have another suprise on your hands." Then out jumped none other than a fabled Cuban White Tiger, the natural enemy of Cuban Werewolves.
"No," yelled Castro, "I thought I had them all killed."
"Well, turns out you were wrong, bitch! They was just hiding from your death squads, they just came back out when they heard And Roy scream, see he's so intune with the animal world that he can talk to them like Aquaman can with fish."
"You just made all that up," said Castro.
"Maybe... maybe not," I says cause damn, I'm cool.

Then Castro hopped into a helicopter and flew away. Meanwhile, the Cuban White Tiger mutilated Castro's troops. Then the chopper turned around and shot missiles at me and the Tiger, scaring off the Tiger. I needed to get away and fast, dude, otherwise I was totally dead and shit. The ocean was close, I just needed a raft so I grabbed And Roy's body and set out on a seagoing voyage.

And Roy's body was pretty small for a raft at first but it got better once he started to bloat from the seawater. I swore that once I got back to the mainland, that I would find a way to resurrect And Roy by taking him to a place on Earth where miracles can happen, Viva Los Vegas, baby!
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Visiting the fam. [08 Sep 2003|03:44pm]
Been a long time since I went and posted here, that's because unlike most of these blog folks, I actually have a life. See, I is taking classes so I can get my doctoral degree in paranormal elemenation. See, once I finish the program, you are gonna have to call me Dr. Monster Killer or Dr. Killer fo' short. Damn, Dr. Killer, hope people don't think I'm pro-life.
Last week, after some grueling class-load and shit, I decided to go visit my grandma. She's a good Catholic woman and, henceforth, has had a good, long life but recently she has been feeling under the weather. I thought that I could make her day by taking a trip up to her cottage in the woods and hopefully make her feel a little better.
As I am heading up there, I run into a big ole werewolf. So I goes, "Sup, werewolf?"
"Hey, Monster Killer. Ready to battle to your death?" says the wolf.
I goes, "Nope, I'm ready to battle to your death! Boo-ya! But let's make this quick, I've gotta go visit my grandma."
"Where does she live?"
"Over in that cottage in the woods"
"The one by that PDQ?"
"No, the one down past the lumberyard where all of the lumberjacks work at."
"Oh."
"Why did you ask, werewolf?"
"Just shooting the shit."
"Ahh... now I'm going to have to shoot you, with silver bullets. Boo-ya!"
So I do some backflips towards the werewolf and then I kick him in the nuts. He appears to be hurt, this is probably because I kicked him in the nuts. Let's say, he then leaps back and takes out a powder bomb and goes, "Ninja Vanish!"
Damn, a ninja werewolf, that's a wacky combination, what will they think of next, intelligent Lutherans?
Oh wells, I continue on to my grandma's place pausing to say hi to my Lumberjack buddy, Bill. I get to my grandma's but I'm a little worried cause I think I hear my grandmother yelling out. I'm just hoping she isn't entertaining a gentleman caller who is blessed with a little blue pill. I gingerly knock and she says, "Come in." Being one to always obey my grandmother, I come right on in.
"Sup, grandma!"
She goes, "Sup, my grandson, Monster Killer."
"How ya feeling?" I ask cause you know, I'm like concerned.
"Oh, I guess you could say that my stomach is upset," she says as she laughes. She always did have a good sense of humor. "Come closer so that your old grandma can talk with you."
"Whoa, granny, did you ever notice how your eyes are all big and shit, you ain't got no cataracts, do you?"
"The better to see you with, my dear," she says as she burps up a bonnet.
"Huh. So you got some pretty big ears too."
"Yeah, the better to hear you with, my dear."
"Wait a minute, you are looking less hairy today. And what's with that big mouth?"
"The better to eat you with."
So, next thing I knows, I'm in that goddamned werewolf's belly. I find my grandmother in there too, turns out that the werewolf ate her in order to pose as her to attack me. Pretty crafty plan, I must say. I'd congradulate that werewolf if I wasn't lodged in his gullet. Since I've got some time on my hands, I talk with my grandmother about what's going on with the cousins and what not, it's a pretty good chat except for the fact that the stomach bile is beginning to burn my legs. Hmm, I'm starting to think that this is going to suck.
Then, who comes to chop me out, none other than my old friend, Lumberjack Bill. After my grandmother and I climb out of the werewolf corpse, I ask Lumberjack Bill how he knew that the werewolf had eaten us. Turns out that he was actually coming to murder my grandmother and steal all of her priceless Catholic artifacts and sell them on eBay. So I calls the cops and he's now serving a life sentence. Boy, sure was good that I stopped to fight that werewolf on the way to Grandma's!
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[09 Aug 2003|03:24pm]
Man, it's been a rough week. First of all, I had to stop this covenant of evil magick folks from destroying the universe and then I came home only to learn that Arnold Swarzeneager is running for govinor of Calefornea. Now while I don't mind that the man has political aspirations, this just pisses me off because if Arnold is elected, that means that there will be no King Conan, the long-awaited true sequel to Conan the Barbarian. King Conan is the movie I have been waiting most of my life to see and it shouldn't be derailed for some stupid project like being governor. Arnold is still a quality actor, look at T3, now he's ready for the most important project of his career. I mean, California is just going to sink into the sea anyway. States are temporary but Conan movies are forever.

I was so bummed about the news of the lack of Conan that I could barely enjoy getting to take out a hoard of goddammed zombies. Sure, it was cool and all getting to burn the flesh off of their rotting corpses with a torch in an epic battle it just seemed so... dull, just a standard day on the job. I couldn't stop thinking of how much cooler it would have been to sit back and watch Conan fighting in some battle, with say, a big axe, and saying lines about Crom and cool shit like that with a powerful score by Basil Paledouris in the background. Damn, my life is boring, I wish something exciting like going to see a movie would happen to me.

The news only got worse from there, I learned that Gary Coleman is running for governor too. Just when I had finshed up my spec script about a buddy comedy where he plays a cop who is afraid of spiders who has to team up with a street-wise construction worker played by Gary's old Diff'rent Strokes castmate Todd Bridges.

Well, I've got to go now, guess some werewolf has been seen down in Iowa. Oh boy, that's going to be a boring trip.
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[01 Aug 2003|01:23am]
Monster Killer is a very rare male name.
Very few men in the US are named Monster Killer.
Be proud of your unique name!
source namestatistics.com
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