Back to GatefoldIssue #13 by Dino Pollard
"Escape from Bumblefuck" |
"Noooooobody knows... the trouble I've seen.... noooooobody knows.... but Jeebus..."
Oyy...
That's about the only word to describe this situation: oyy. Well, that, or something TOTALLY unprintable. I'd ask why all this crap always happens to me, but I already know why. Y'see, there's a man. With a computer. And WAAAAAY too much free time on his hands. So, to pass his boredom, he throws me in situations like these. Sure, for other people reading it, it's probably funny, but that doesn't make it funny for me!!
My car gets blown up. In Bumblefuck (yes, there really IS a Bumblefuck - will wonders never cease). So now, I'm stuck. In BUMBLEFUCK!!! And I can't help but think that there's gotta be some way outta here.
After the car blew up, here's what happened.
Yup, it's flashback time...
# # # # #
"Oh shit onna stick..." I mutter.
The car's been blown up. In BUMBLEFUCK, no less...
My luck just CAN'T get any better. Lesse, in the past week, I fought Molecule Man in Celebrity Deathmatch, got a cosmic guardian for a roommate, fought said Molecule Man again, I was contracted to kill a minister who also happened to be Nightcrawler (which I didn't do), had a run in with some whacked-out team of mercenaries, hooked up with a hairy midget and a drunk Canadian, got pulled over by a Rhode Island State Trooper, and now I'm stuck in Bumblefuck. BUMBLEFUCK of all places!!!
Oooooh! And here come the friendly natives.
"What in tarnation happened here?"
"I'll tell ya whut!!" Half-Pint exclaimed. "Y' blew up our car!!"
"Smooth, Half-Pint..."
"We didn't blow nuthin' up!!" the barkeep exclaimed.
A guy wearing a ten gallon hat and sunglasses, as well as sporting the biggest gut I've ever seen walked throught he crowd.
"Awright folks..." he said. "What seems t'be th' problem?"
"Them outsiders're causin' trouble, Sherrif!"
"Is this true?" the Sherrif asked, looking at us.
"Weeeeell..." Gnome began. "I... guess... you'd... say... what can make me feel this waaaay?"
*BELCH*
"My girl!!!" Half-Pint exclaimed.
Just great...
"Hey, it's not that much of a problem," I say, stepping forward. "Someone blew up our car, that's all."
"You're under arrest," the Sherrif stated.
"What?!" I shouted. "I've never commited a crime!! Well... at least not in Bumblefuck... I think..."
"You just had a midget and a drunk Canadian belching My Girl," the Sherrif said. "We don't want that kinda trouble here in Bumblefuck."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, pulling out a pair of uzis. "What're y' gonna do about it?"
*CLICK*
*CLICK*
"Sonnuva... I just reloaded this damn thing!!"
"Oh Wade..." Gnome stated. "I fergot t' tell ya... I melted down yer bullets t' make a paperweight."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal paperweight.
"See? It's a pretty star..."
"........."
Suddenly, I'm beginning to wish that Molecule Man DID take my identity...
"C'mon," the Sherrif stated. "Let's git ya t' th' jail."
# # # # #
So, now I'm stuck in Bumblefuck. And I'm REALLY starting to regret hooking up with Gnome and Half-Pint.
I dunno. Maybe it's because they're constantly drunk. Maybe it's because I have a grudge against Canada. Or maybe it's because Gnome's drinking from the toilet while Half-Pint's contemplating the meaning of belly-button lint.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "When the hell can I get outta here?!"
"You mean no one told you?"
"...Told me what...?"
I'm already beginning to dread the response.
"You just gotta pay a fine, then you can go."
Oh, okay. That's not so bad.
"No problem. What's the fine?"
"Five million dollars."
"WHAT THE < insert unprintable words here >?! FIVE MILLION BUCKS BECAUSE THOSE TWO WERE BELCHING MY GIRL?!"
"Well, you DO have an option..." the bailiff said. "You can use your one phone call, first off."
"Oh... right. I forgot about that..."
One phone call. Who am I gonna call? I've got no idea where Terry is. There's no chance in hell that I'm gonna call the Six-Pack. That leaves only one person... but I don't really wanna call him...
Note to self: when this is over, drown Gnome in a kiddie pool for turning my bullets into a paperweight.
# # # # #
Somewhere in the Multiverse.
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Huh?" George asked, waking up. "Oh, a phone call."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Where did I put that damn thing..."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"C'mon, I can hear it, it's gotta be around here somewhere..."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Oh... that's right..."
He reached into his beard and pulled out a cell-phone.
"George here, guardian of the Multiverse."
His eyes grew wide, and he sighed.
"Aww crap... Where the hell did you get this number, Wade? I did? That doesn't sound like something I'd d--WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS MY FAULT?! Yeah, that's real funny, Wade. No, I can't see what finger you're holding up, why do you ask? What do you mean it's because of you that I still have a job?! It's because of you that I was almost FIRED!!! Uh-huh... uh-hu--damn... Okay, fine. I don't have the money, but I know where you can get it. It's not gonna be pretty, though. Okay, just make sure you burn those pictures."
George turned off the cell-phone and placed it back in his beard.
"Geez... I go clog-dancing ONE time in my freakin' life, and I end up paying for it..."
George snapped his fingers, and a cool light effect appeared.
# # # # #
Later.
"Welcome back to Celebrity Jeopardy! Once again, I'm going to ask our contestants to please refrain from vaporizing the audience. I'm your host, Alex Trebek, and let's meet our celebrities!"
He motioned to the podiums.
"First, we have Chewbacca in the lead with 2 dollars. In second place is Sean Connery, with -780 dollars. And in last place is Deadpool, with a whopping -1,523 dollars."
"I'm cock of the walk!" Connery exclaimed.
"That's... wonderful," Alex stated. "Let's take a look at our categories. They are Graphic Literature, which is a big word for comic books. Days that begin with Mon. Planets that rhyme with 'grrr.' Things you SHOULDN'T light on fire. Famous Slots. I should add that the answer to every question in that category is Las Vegas. And finally, the Economy. Let's just change that category to Current Latverian Dictators. Sean Connery, it's your board."
"I'll go with days that begin with Mon."
"Answer: this is the ONLY day that starts with Mon."
*BEEP*
"Sean Connery."
"Monterday!"
"No."
"Damn!"
*BEEP*
"Deadpool."
"Easy, that's Monfri."
"No."
*BEEP*
"Chewbacca."
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"No! The correct answer was, Monday. Monday is, of course, the only day that starts with Mon. It's today."
"A trick question!" Sean Connery exclaimed. "I'm onto you, Trebek..."
"....Right. Well, Mr. Connery, sadly, the board is yours."
"And the day is mine!"
"Just pick a topic."
"I'll go with Famous Sluts for 800."
"No... that's not famous sluts, that's famous SLOTS. Some of the most famous slots are located in this city."
*BEEP*
"Mr. Connery."
"Britney Spears."
"Once again, the category is famous SLOTS, not sluts."
"Call them whatever you want, Trebek. It doesn't change the fact that they're still dirty whores."
"I think I'm going to be si--"
*BEEP*
"Deadpool."
"Anna Nicole Smith."
"No! We're not talking about whores! We're talking about slots!"
"You're just bitter because you've never been with a woman, Trebek--whore or otherwise."
"Okay, let's go with Current Latverian Dictators for 700. Answer: He is the current Latverian Dictator. His last name is von Doom. He is a sworn enemy of the Fantastic Four. His first name is Victor. He wears armor and a green tunic. He is a doctor. His name is Victor von Doom. He's also called Doctor Doom. Someone just buzz in and say Doctor Doom or Victor von Doom or just Doom."
*EEEEENH*
"And you are all dumber than ants."
"Hey, I've met some pretty smart ants in my time!" Deadpool shouted. "Ever hear of Ant-Man?"
"Okay... let's go with planets that rhyme with grrrr. This planet rhymes with grrrr."
*BEEP*
"Chewbacca!"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"Can we accept that...? We can?! Good Lord, are we recording, that's CORRECT!!"
"That was rigged!" Connery exclaimed.
"Let's just move on to Final Jeopardy. The category is... here, you know what? Just draw a picture. Any picture and you win. That's all you have to do. All you need to do is draw a picture. Deadpool can draw a picture of Anna Nicole Smith. Sean Connery can draw a picture of me with a gun in my mouth. Any picture at all and you all win."
*EEEEEEENH*
"Now... let's get this overwith... Chewbacca you drew... oh God!!"
Trebek turned his head away from Chewbacca's board.
"That smell... it's.... Jesus!! That is definately NOT a picture!! Aren't you supposed to be house-broken?"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"Mr. Connery drew a picture of him and a large woman having sex. Okay... that's fine. And you wagered... 'Trebek's mother' with an arrow pointing to the woman. Okay... I should've seen that coming..."
"Haw! You know your mother likes it, Trebek!! Tell her to leave the back door unlocked tonight."
"Now then... Deadpool you drew... you drew a picture of yourself surrounded by money. And your wager... 'I didn't win, but you better give me five million dollars anyway because I've got this entire building wired to blow up.' Okay, we have a winner! Ladies and gentlemen, the new Celebrity Jeopardy champion is Deadpool!"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"THIS IS RIGGED!!"
"Eat it, pops," Deadpool said, blowing Connery, Chewbacca, and Trebek away.
# # # # #
So, after I won Celebrity Jeopardy, I paid the fine in Bumblefuck. Then, I told Gnome and Half-Pint that I didn't want to see them again. Ever. From now on, it's just Wade Wilson, Deadpool, off on his own.
Or, whatever the next writer wants to do.
NEXT ISSUE: Who knows? It all depends on what the new writer wants to do!
DEADLINES
Well, that's all from me, folks. I had a blast writing Deadpool and I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Sadly though, due to a large workload and a lack of ideas, I found that I had no other choice but to drop it. This book seems to be cursed with rotating writers. Hopefully, the next writer will have better luck than the past ones have. I hope you'll all continue to read my other books here at M2K.
-Dino Pollard
June 10, 2001
ROFLMAO! 'Nuff said.
-Brad Horton
Thank you. For the uneducated, ROFLMAO means "rolling on the floor, laughing my ass off."
I have no idea why, but this is probably my favorite title at M2K. I love these guys. Deadpool's supporting cast is hilarious. The hairy Canadians. LoL....when the Rhode Island State Trooper introed himself, I knew he was gonna do that. That's probably why i laughed. I love these guys. The midget falling out of the glove compartment all drunk. Hairy Canadian out on top. Car exploding in Bumblefuck. LoL. Dino, once again you've outdone yourself. haha. Lordy lordy lord.
SpicyDamn! (exclamation point means close to hotdamn!)
-Adnan Khan
Ahh... more praise. And your favorite title, no less?! Wow, praise indeed. Hopefully, whoever shows up next will be able to keep it up to the same "quality" (HAH!) that I have. And who knows? If I feel like it, I may return to the title sometime in the future (but not until after I've picked up Joe Kelly's run).
Well, that's it, guys. It's been fun. Good night, drive safely, and don't forget to tip your waitress.
Or your crack dealer.
Oyy...
That's about the only word to describe this situation: oyy. Well, that, or something TOTALLY unprintable. I'd ask why all this crap always happens to me, but I already know why. Y'see, there's a man. With a computer. And WAAAAAY too much free time on his hands. So, to pass his boredom, he throws me in situations like these. Sure, for other people reading it, it's probably funny, but that doesn't make it funny for me!!
My car gets blown up. In Bumblefuck (yes, there really IS a Bumblefuck - will wonders never cease). So now, I'm stuck. In BUMBLEFUCK!!! And I can't help but think that there's gotta be some way outta here.
After the car blew up, here's what happened.
Yup, it's flashback time...
# # # # #
"Oh shit onna stick..." I mutter.
The car's been blown up. In BUMBLEFUCK, no less...
My luck just CAN'T get any better. Lesse, in the past week, I fought Molecule Man in Celebrity Deathmatch, got a cosmic guardian for a roommate, fought said Molecule Man again, I was contracted to kill a minister who also happened to be Nightcrawler (which I didn't do), had a run in with some whacked-out team of mercenaries, hooked up with a hairy midget and a drunk Canadian, got pulled over by a Rhode Island State Trooper, and now I'm stuck in Bumblefuck. BUMBLEFUCK of all places!!!
Oooooh! And here come the friendly natives.
"What in tarnation happened here?"
"I'll tell ya whut!!" Half-Pint exclaimed. "Y' blew up our car!!"
"Smooth, Half-Pint..."
"We didn't blow nuthin' up!!" the barkeep exclaimed.
A guy wearing a ten gallon hat and sunglasses, as well as sporting the biggest gut I've ever seen walked throught he crowd.
"Awright folks..." he said. "What seems t'be th' problem?"
"Them outsiders're causin' trouble, Sherrif!"
"Is this true?" the Sherrif asked, looking at us.
"Weeeeell..." Gnome began. "I... guess... you'd... say... what can make me feel this waaaay?"
*BELCH*
"My girl!!!" Half-Pint exclaimed.
Just great...
"Hey, it's not that much of a problem," I say, stepping forward. "Someone blew up our car, that's all."
"You're under arrest," the Sherrif stated.
"What?!" I shouted. "I've never commited a crime!! Well... at least not in Bumblefuck... I think..."
"You just had a midget and a drunk Canadian belching My Girl," the Sherrif said. "We don't want that kinda trouble here in Bumblefuck."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, pulling out a pair of uzis. "What're y' gonna do about it?"
*CLICK*
*CLICK*
"Sonnuva... I just reloaded this damn thing!!"
"Oh Wade..." Gnome stated. "I fergot t' tell ya... I melted down yer bullets t' make a paperweight."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal paperweight.
"See? It's a pretty star..."
"........."
Suddenly, I'm beginning to wish that Molecule Man DID take my identity...
"C'mon," the Sherrif stated. "Let's git ya t' th' jail."
# # # # #
So, now I'm stuck in Bumblefuck. And I'm REALLY starting to regret hooking up with Gnome and Half-Pint.
I dunno. Maybe it's because they're constantly drunk. Maybe it's because I have a grudge against Canada. Or maybe it's because Gnome's drinking from the toilet while Half-Pint's contemplating the meaning of belly-button lint.
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "When the hell can I get outta here?!"
"You mean no one told you?"
"...Told me what...?"
I'm already beginning to dread the response.
"You just gotta pay a fine, then you can go."
Oh, okay. That's not so bad.
"No problem. What's the fine?"
"Five million dollars."
"WHAT THE < insert unprintable words here >?! FIVE MILLION BUCKS BECAUSE THOSE TWO WERE BELCHING MY GIRL?!"
"Well, you DO have an option..." the bailiff said. "You can use your one phone call, first off."
"Oh... right. I forgot about that..."
One phone call. Who am I gonna call? I've got no idea where Terry is. There's no chance in hell that I'm gonna call the Six-Pack. That leaves only one person... but I don't really wanna call him...
Note to self: when this is over, drown Gnome in a kiddie pool for turning my bullets into a paperweight.
# # # # #
Somewhere in the Multiverse.
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Huh?" George asked, waking up. "Oh, a phone call."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Where did I put that damn thing..."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"C'mon, I can hear it, it's gotta be around here somewhere..."
*BREEEEEEEEEP*
"Oh... that's right..."
He reached into his beard and pulled out a cell-phone.
"George here, guardian of the Multiverse."
His eyes grew wide, and he sighed.
"Aww crap... Where the hell did you get this number, Wade? I did? That doesn't sound like something I'd d--WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS MY FAULT?! Yeah, that's real funny, Wade. No, I can't see what finger you're holding up, why do you ask? What do you mean it's because of you that I still have a job?! It's because of you that I was almost FIRED!!! Uh-huh... uh-hu--damn... Okay, fine. I don't have the money, but I know where you can get it. It's not gonna be pretty, though. Okay, just make sure you burn those pictures."
George turned off the cell-phone and placed it back in his beard.
"Geez... I go clog-dancing ONE time in my freakin' life, and I end up paying for it..."
George snapped his fingers, and a cool light effect appeared.
# # # # #
Later.
"Welcome back to Celebrity Jeopardy! Once again, I'm going to ask our contestants to please refrain from vaporizing the audience. I'm your host, Alex Trebek, and let's meet our celebrities!"
He motioned to the podiums.
"First, we have Chewbacca in the lead with 2 dollars. In second place is Sean Connery, with -780 dollars. And in last place is Deadpool, with a whopping -1,523 dollars."
"I'm cock of the walk!" Connery exclaimed.
"That's... wonderful," Alex stated. "Let's take a look at our categories. They are Graphic Literature, which is a big word for comic books. Days that begin with Mon. Planets that rhyme with 'grrr.' Things you SHOULDN'T light on fire. Famous Slots. I should add that the answer to every question in that category is Las Vegas. And finally, the Economy. Let's just change that category to Current Latverian Dictators. Sean Connery, it's your board."
"I'll go with days that begin with Mon."
"Answer: this is the ONLY day that starts with Mon."
*BEEP*
"Sean Connery."
"Monterday!"
"No."
"Damn!"
*BEEP*
"Deadpool."
"Easy, that's Monfri."
"No."
*BEEP*
"Chewbacca."
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"No! The correct answer was, Monday. Monday is, of course, the only day that starts with Mon. It's today."
"A trick question!" Sean Connery exclaimed. "I'm onto you, Trebek..."
"....Right. Well, Mr. Connery, sadly, the board is yours."
"And the day is mine!"
"Just pick a topic."
"I'll go with Famous Sluts for 800."
"No... that's not famous sluts, that's famous SLOTS. Some of the most famous slots are located in this city."
*BEEP*
"Mr. Connery."
"Britney Spears."
"Once again, the category is famous SLOTS, not sluts."
"Call them whatever you want, Trebek. It doesn't change the fact that they're still dirty whores."
"I think I'm going to be si--"
*BEEP*
"Deadpool."
"Anna Nicole Smith."
"No! We're not talking about whores! We're talking about slots!"
"You're just bitter because you've never been with a woman, Trebek--whore or otherwise."
"Okay, let's go with Current Latverian Dictators for 700. Answer: He is the current Latverian Dictator. His last name is von Doom. He is a sworn enemy of the Fantastic Four. His first name is Victor. He wears armor and a green tunic. He is a doctor. His name is Victor von Doom. He's also called Doctor Doom. Someone just buzz in and say Doctor Doom or Victor von Doom or just Doom."
*EEEEENH*
"And you are all dumber than ants."
"Hey, I've met some pretty smart ants in my time!" Deadpool shouted. "Ever hear of Ant-Man?"
"Okay... let's go with planets that rhyme with grrrr. This planet rhymes with grrrr."
*BEEP*
"Chewbacca!"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"Can we accept that...? We can?! Good Lord, are we recording, that's CORRECT!!"
"That was rigged!" Connery exclaimed.
"Let's just move on to Final Jeopardy. The category is... here, you know what? Just draw a picture. Any picture and you win. That's all you have to do. All you need to do is draw a picture. Deadpool can draw a picture of Anna Nicole Smith. Sean Connery can draw a picture of me with a gun in my mouth. Any picture at all and you all win."
*EEEEEEENH*
"Now... let's get this overwith... Chewbacca you drew... oh God!!"
Trebek turned his head away from Chewbacca's board.
"That smell... it's.... Jesus!! That is definately NOT a picture!! Aren't you supposed to be house-broken?"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"Mr. Connery drew a picture of him and a large woman having sex. Okay... that's fine. And you wagered... 'Trebek's mother' with an arrow pointing to the woman. Okay... I should've seen that coming..."
"Haw! You know your mother likes it, Trebek!! Tell her to leave the back door unlocked tonight."
"Now then... Deadpool you drew... you drew a picture of yourself surrounded by money. And your wager... 'I didn't win, but you better give me five million dollars anyway because I've got this entire building wired to blow up.' Okay, we have a winner! Ladies and gentlemen, the new Celebrity Jeopardy champion is Deadpool!"
"RAAAAAWR!!!"
"THIS IS RIGGED!!"
"Eat it, pops," Deadpool said, blowing Connery, Chewbacca, and Trebek away.
# # # # #
So, after I won Celebrity Jeopardy, I paid the fine in Bumblefuck. Then, I told Gnome and Half-Pint that I didn't want to see them again. Ever. From now on, it's just Wade Wilson, Deadpool, off on his own.
Or, whatever the next writer wants to do.
NEXT ISSUE: Who knows? It all depends on what the new writer wants to do!
DEADLINES
Well, that's all from me, folks. I had a blast writing Deadpool and I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Sadly though, due to a large workload and a lack of ideas, I found that I had no other choice but to drop it. This book seems to be cursed with rotating writers. Hopefully, the next writer will have better luck than the past ones have. I hope you'll all continue to read my other books here at M2K.
-Dino Pollard
June 10, 2001
ROFLMAO! 'Nuff said.
-Brad Horton
Thank you. For the uneducated, ROFLMAO means "rolling on the floor, laughing my ass off."
I have no idea why, but this is probably my favorite title at M2K. I love these guys. Deadpool's supporting cast is hilarious. The hairy Canadians. LoL....when the Rhode Island State Trooper introed himself, I knew he was gonna do that. That's probably why i laughed. I love these guys. The midget falling out of the glove compartment all drunk. Hairy Canadian out on top. Car exploding in Bumblefuck. LoL. Dino, once again you've outdone yourself. haha. Lordy lordy lord.
SpicyDamn! (exclamation point means close to hotdamn!)
-Adnan Khan
Ahh... more praise. And your favorite title, no less?! Wow, praise indeed. Hopefully, whoever shows up next will be able to keep it up to the same "quality" (HAH!) that I have. And who knows? If I feel like it, I may return to the title sometime in the future (but not until after I've picked up Joe Kelly's run).
Well, that's it, guys. It's been fun. Good night, drive safely, and don't forget to tip your waitress.
Or your crack dealer.