“I've called together this meeting of the supervillians of evil, because I've realized we must do something,” purred the Intergalactic Space Kitty. “We must break breakmentaldown! Oh, you better believe it's going down.”
The Space Kitty had assembled all the usual suspects. If there's evil in the world, they were currently suckling at the oversize teat of cattitude. Everyone from a whiskey-swilling lord of all the land, to the Dark Prince of Yahtzee to Bono had shown up as part of the Consortium of Bad Guys. They had one goal—take down this beloved blog.
|I think the stench alone would be enough to|
do me in!
The plan was simple enough, Boris the Spider would violate all his social mores and slither into the box fort of awesomeness Mr. Nelson called home. Once there, he'd strategically place a pencil attached to a raisin in an ominous location. Boris knew that for the normal person, this “bomb” would represent no harm, but for Mr. Nelson, it would be his end. Just for good measure, he left a box of Hidden Treasures cereal, but there would be no treasures in this cereal, he will leave an empty box!
Fortunately, the elite squirrels in my SRAS battalion were inadvertently marked as “evil” and CC'd in on all nefarious supervillain plans against me. They chittered and let me know we should hole up in the second bedroom. They planned to just hide out in the infinity loop that is the M.C. Escher's Relativity room.
But I wasn't going to let some villain just come and boss me around. I don't care how super they claim to be.
I stayed up til the wee hours of the morning, coming up with a plan. However, when my bedtime hit at three AM, I still didn't have anything. I contemplated taking another caffeine pill, but Zach Morris' words reverberated through my ears and I withheld. I knew I wasn't getting any younger, I knew I'd need to take on the CoBG before I became an old man of 27-and-a-half years old.
With exasperation, I threw up my hands. However, I must have somehow formed a hitchhiker's signal, because I suddenly found myself surrounded by 14 chainsaw wielding psychopaths. One had even, god bless him, tracked down a CPS 2000, which he had loaded up with sulfuric acid. Combined with my SRAS and Doug the Vampire (who would do anything for my diabetes blood), I was set.
Your move, Intergalactic Space Kitty.
The Space Kitty pounced on this opportunity like it was a normal non-universe-sized cat—one that just likes to kill stuff. First it stole my bike seat (which, for some reason, set off my car alarm). He then gave me nutted cookies (meaning crappy) and opened an umbrella indoors. He even challenged me to a game of Dots and Boxes! I stood strong though, I would not let his psychological torture bring me down.
Finally, he willed all his power into one statement, “You are one tough cookie, Kevin,” he said.
Argh, he had said my name! His first successful hit! I retaliated by unleashing my group of psychopathic hitchhikers upon him, but as they streamed at him, he realized the power of saying names and vaporized each one of them with a single word.
“Fred. Alan. Launchpad. Simba. Cuba Gooding Jr. Cannot Act (it's a family name). WoW. Happy. Doc. Grumpy. Sleepy. Bashful. Sneezy and Dopey,” it said. Fourteen names and fourteen untimely deaths. Suddenly my squad didn't look so hot, especially because my squirrels had gone off to film some sort of pornography—a new pornography involving squirrel and vampire copulations.
|This card, in fact.|
Backed into a corner, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I gave him a card.
The space kitty looked at it and suddenly felt attacked from multiple sides. Not only did this repurposed Valentine's Day card offend his lack of heart, it also said his name. This double dose of deception did him in.
As the smoke cleared, I smiled and raised a sarcastic thumbs up at the smoldering remains of Intergalactic Space Kitty. I proudly walked off into the sunset, so I didn't see when the camera slowly panned back to the dust of the kitty.
“You may have won the battle, but the war is far from over, Mr. Nelson,” purred the kitty who remained cute even in his ashen state. Fortunately, a passing vacuum sucked him up, ending the war.