Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

ManMan - Officially de-lurking.
Fri May 21, 2004 at 11:30:21 am EDT
Subject
ManMan : The Return!
[ Reply ] [ New ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Next In Thread >>


ManMan - The Return.


"I think this is more in your budget, Mr. Pepper," the estate agent waved an arm in his air like a magician showing his newest trick. "A cosy one bedroom studio/apartment with the charming addition of a combination Bathroom-Kitchen,” continued the estate agent. “Will you be living alone?”
Joe sighed. “Yeah...She moved back with her parents, we’re ‘friends’...Whatever that means...” he snorted.
“Well, isn’t that interesting?” the estate agent smiled blankly. “So just you and...?”
“Me,” Knifey confirmed.
“Yeess...The talking knife,” the agent looked a little worried. “I’m not sure about the policy of keeping pets in the building...”
“A PET?!?” cried Knifey, indignant. “At the very, very, least, I’m a colourful sidekick to the quirkiest hero in the Parodyverse. I’ve saved the world countless times, in countless centuries, on countless continents, I AM EVIL’S DESTRUCTION, I AM EVIL’S BANE, I AM THE THORN IN EVIL’S SIDE! I AM NOT A PET!”
“Yeess...Quite,” the agent pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will get you a special-rate, though I’ll talk to the manager,” the agent quickly left the room.
“Come on Joe, we’re not taking this rat-whole.”
“It’s the only thing I can afford,” the Elvis-Impersonator explained. “Once I get the stuff from my old apartment, I’ll fix the place up. It’ll be nice.”
“All your ‘stuff’ was destroyed when the building collapsed on your head,” explained Knifey.
“Funny, I keep forgetting that,” Manny frowned. “Crap! My Buck Rogers’ plates!”
“Erin Grey...” they both sighed.
“Well, I’m sure I’ve still got stuff at Aunt April’s place,” he assured his sidekick.
“I’ve saved the world countless times, in countless centuries, and so forth...” the knife muttered. “...now I’m living in a one-room apartment with a half-wit as a room-mate...”
“Hey, look! I can reach the fridge while I’m on the can!”
“What did I say about wearing me while on the toilet?”


One Week Later.

“And now on PTV, ‘The Funniest Surgical Operations!’...”
Joe brushed cheeto crumbs from his jumpsuit lapels and rearranged himself on the sofa he’d bought at a garage sale. The rest of the furnishings in the flat had come from his childhood bedroom at his Aunt’s house; his racecar bed was impractically small and the hero would‘ve found sleep difficult, but his M.A.S.K. nightlight helped enormously.
“Are we ever going to leave this place?” asked Knifey.
Joe grunted. “Why?”
“As much as I like seeing drunk surgeons perform appendectomies, I really think we should be out stopping the forces of evil.”
“Later,” he promised.
“Let’s get an early start!” the blade encouraged him, “We might save the world before breakfast!”
“But I wanna watch the emergency heart-bypass race...!” the Elvis-Impersonator whined.
Before Knifey could argue there was a knock at the door. “PEPPER?”
“It’s the building manager,” explained Joe. He gasped, “The rent!”
“Can’t you pay?”
“No...I spent all my money on the TV,” he pointed toward the 48-inch plasma hi-def screen hanging from the wall.
The door opened and the manager swaggered in. “I GOT KEYS PEPPER, THAT’S WHY I’M MANAGER - I GOT KEYS!” He growled.
“Yeah Joe, haven’t you heard the proverb, ’Keys Maketh the Manager’?” joked Knifey.
“Sorry Mr. King, I don’t have the rent money at the moment, can you wait till next week?” Manny asked.
“WAIT TILL NEXT WEEK?!? D’YA THINK I’M A SOME SORTA CHARITY, PEPPER? I WANT MY MONEY NOW!”
“I’m a hero, Mr. King, we don’t get paid for saving the world!”
“YEAH? WELL, I DON’T GET PAID TO LET WASHED-UP SUPERHEROES LIVE HERE FREE.”
Joe’s eye twitched. “I’m washed-up?”
“YEAH! YER A WASHED-UP HAS-BEEN!” confirmed the manager.
“I’m a washed-up has-been?”
“YEAH!!”
“A WASHED-UP HAS-BEEN?!?”
“YEAH!!!”
“...RIGHT!” The hero scooped Knifey from the couch and stormed out of the room.

-----

“Tell me I’m washed up...He’s the one who needs to be washed up...lousy managers think they can tell people to pay to stay in their place....lousy washed up managers...” Joe muttered as he stormed out onto the streets of Hell’s Bathroom. “Gonna save the world right now...Y’HERE THAT KING? Gonna find me some evil and KICK it’s ass...Hey you!” Joe pointed to a group of four youths loitering near the entrance of a convenience store. “You planning to rob this place?” he asked the biggest one of the four.
“Rob?” the man laughed, “Nah man, we a band...Name’s Q-Dog.”
“Really,” the Elvis-Impersonator eyed them suspiciously. “And what sort of music does Q-Dog do? Huh?”
The man laughed again. “My name’s Q-Dog, this here’s my crew, the Q-Tet. We a Barbershop Quartet.”
Manny blinked. “Barbershop Quartet.”
“We bringin’ B-Shop to the streets, yo,” another youth told him, “Name’s Harmon-E,” he nodded.
“Oh.”
“We do a slammin’ version of ‘Mr. Sandman’ - y’wanna hear?”
“Uh...That would be nice...” agreed ManMan.
The quartet launched into a rousing re-mix of Mr. Sandman, complete with beat-box rhythms.
“Keep it real, dawgs!” yelled Knifey as the Elvis-Impersonator skulked off.

----

“Feels nice to be out and about again, doesn’t it?” smiled Knifey as they patrolled the streets of Hell’s Bathroom.
“Shh,” shushed Manny. “I’m looking for evil’s ass.”
“...”
“...So I can kick it,” explained the hero.
“Wait up! Wait there!” a woman cried, as she desperately tried to catch the younger man 10-foot or so ahead of her.
Joe looked round. “A mugging!” he beamed and set off on a collision course with the thief. A flying tackle later, the mugger had been knocked cold on the sidewalk. As the older woman approached, Manny smiled, “All in a day’s work Ma’am, no need to thank me.”
“You IDIOT!” the woman swung a heavily ringed hand into his right cheek. “You just knocked out my personal trainer!”
Manny rubbed the side of stinging face. “But...You were telling him to stop...!”
“He was going too fast!” she shrieked and knelt down by her trainer. “Günter? Come back to me, darling!”
“Sounds like he was training her very personally,” Knifey suggested.
The woman snapped. “What did YOU say?!?”
“Me? Nothing? It was my talking knife,” he held it up to her, “See?”
The woman fell back in horror. “Please! Take my rings! Don’t hurt me or Günter!”
“No, really, it does talk...Talk damn you!” he ordered Knifey.
The blade stayed silent.
Joe ran.

----

~That’s probably the most constructive thing you’ve ever done~ Cressida admitted as she looked at the beer-glass mountain dull thud had constructed.
“An’ it onl’ too’ me 42 pints!” her Scottish man announced to loud slurry, cheers from the denizens of the Fatal Toilet.
The door to the bar opened and ManMan walked in. Noticing the daylight outside, a man in a pilot’s uniform gasped and quickly paid his bar-tab before leaving. “’ava good flight Nick!”
The Elvis-Impersonator slumped down at the bar next to the beer-glass mountain. “Hey thud. Hey Cressida.”
~Hello Joe. Knifey...~
“Morning to the both of you,” the blade greeted them.
“Maaaannnay! Y’great English poof! Ow’s going?”
“Not too good, actually,” admitted the hero.
dull thud jutted his bottom lip out in a clownish display of sympathy. “Girrl trubbel?” he laughed crudely and elbowed Joe in the ribs.
“What happened to the ‘Bathroom?” Joe asked the Lair Legion members. “In the past, you couldn’t move for criminals! Now...nothing!”
“There was the vicious assault on that personal trainer that we witnessed,” offered Knifey.
“Shuddup you!” warned thud. “Thissa conversayshun beetween men! Not fings that talk dat shunt!”
ManMan grinned. “So what happened?”
“’eroes!” exclaimed thud, almost slipping from his stool. “Cleeneed plaace ‘p.”
~Razor letters and mail bombs tend to change people’s minds about committing crimes. thuddy’s morning breath helps too.~ explained the telepathic tapeworm.
The jump suited hero shook his head. “There must be some crime left!”

----

With a pint of mind-rot burning away the digestive acid in his stomach, ManMan left the Fatal Toilet and immediately espied a man dropping some trash on the sidewalk. The hero’s heart raced. At last...Crime! He gave Knifey a triumphant look and was about to arrest the man when he saw a glint of metal and a razor letter embed itself in the wall a foot away from the litterer. Quickly, the man picked up his rubbish and fled the scene.
“Aww man...Com’on!” the Elvis-Impersonator complained. He looked up and saw Messenger crouched on the roof.
The postman shrugged. “Slow day,” he explained.

----

“SO PEPPER, YOU GOT MY RENT?” Mr. King snarled.
“Uh...You need a doorman or something?” offered the hero.

THE END.


82-32-112-146.cable.ubr03.hawk.blueyonder.co.uk (82.32.112.146) United Kingdom
Microsoft Internet Explorer 6/Windows XP
[ Reply ] [ New ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Follow-Ups:

Echo™ v2.0 Beta 3 © 2004 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2004 by Mangacool Adventure