Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Anyone order one Frosty Colonial Marine? 'Cuz he's right here.

I walked out of the In and Out after the meeting with Elixir and Henchman. During the meeting, Henchie ate the food that Elixir bought, telling him that he forgot his wallet in his other outfit, then when we almost had a plan together, Henchman laughed and slapped Elixir and said that he was a judge. I’m getting confused, so who’s on our team anyway?

“Don’t worry about that guy,” I told the young mutant. “We’ll show him how we operate.”

Elixir’s a good kid, but it takes more than that to lead a team like this. Fortunately, I have a plan. To assassinate a target like this takes a real evil mind and who’d the most evilest of them all? Super villains are! I have to get to know a super villain and pump him for evil assassination-type information.

Silently and sneakily, I crept into Deadpool’s office. I know that as merc for hire, he’s got to have some contacts in the evil super villain category – I just have to find them.

Then I saw it, Deadpool’s journal, only it had a combination lock on it. Fortunately, as a hard core Colonial Marine, I have a bunch of unusual talents. One of those talents is diary lock picking. Success, the combo was “616!”

I thumbed through the book until I saw a number for someone named “Lexy,” quickly I dialed it up on the phone.

“Luthor here,” the voice on the other end said.

“Hey Lex,” I said. “This is Private Hudson, I’m on a show and I’d like t—”

*click*

Hmm. Something must be wrong with the line. I’ll try another. Here’s a “V. Doom,” I’m sure he’ll help out, so I punched up the number on the phone.

“This is Doom,” a tinny voice on the other end rumbled.

“Dr. Doom? Hey, this is Private Hudson, I’m trying to find out what it’s like to be a super villain.”

“Private Hudson?” Doom said. “What kind of a villain’s name is that?”

“Uh, well, I’m still in training,” I managed to answer. “That’s why I called you for advice.”

“That’s what Doom gets for letting Doom’s secretary go to lunch,” he sighed. “OK, let Doom give you a few quick pointers. First, you have to refer to yourself in the third person.”

“I know, I mean, Hudson knows that he can do that,” Hudson answered. (See, it works)

“Good, another thing is that you have to think big,” Doom continued. “Why would you want to be some two-bit thug with a boomerang robbing banks or some guy with a glue gun knocking over jewelry stores when you can conquer your own country and plot revenge against your cursed enemies?”

“Think big,” I repeated.

“Doom hates that damnable Reed Richards,” Doom growled quietly. “Richards will rue the day he first crossed Doom!”

“OK.” I should have grabbed a notepad, this is some juicy stuff!

“One more thing, and this ties into thinking big,” Doom rumbled. “Thinking big means everything has to be big. You don’t just march into Washington with a bunch of troops; you need a big hypno ray or some cyborg dinosaur clones or perhaps Doom’s favorite – Doom’s time machine.”

“Wait, if you have a time machine, why don’t you go back in time and stop Richards from beating you?”

“This conversation is over!” Doom yelled and I heard the phone disconnect.

I sat there thinking about how I could think big. I needed something big and fast. Big and fast. Boy, I could go for another burger right now. Maybe some Jell-O, too.

Jell-O! That’s it!

Quickly, I got a bunch of containment suits and filled them all with radioactive Jell-O. I’ll air drop them right on top of the Koma, Synth-Lin and Cobracide robots!
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2 Comments:

Blogger Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Are those weapons of mass deliciousness?

1:33 PM  
Blogger Private Hudson said...

See, that's what I was thinkin'

Plus it was lime green Jello, I love lime green Jello!

6:04 PM  

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