To the Death Star and back

Super Awesome Day 2008 concludes.

I met an old friend at the Death Star, Grand Moff Tarkin. I should probably say former old friend, because, as with Boba Fett, all the fanboys flocked to Tarkin as their new favorite Star Wars character with not-so-much screentime (after Fett and Wedge). That pissed me off, too. I was a big Peter Cushing fan. You fanboys ruin everything.

I lay down the scoop for Tarkin. I need a red lightsaber with the pinkies of 30 dead Ewoks attached to the hilt…and the pinkies are stuffed inside the skull of Glenn Danzig.

“Glenn Danzig? Vader’s new apprentice?” he asks. I nod. Politely. After all, he’s got his finger on the trigger of a planet destroyer.

Yeah, I say, and then I can trade that for love advice from Wolverine so I can get a mash note from Voltron’s Lance…

“Lance?” I know, I know. Originally she wanted Sven.

“He was kicked off after season one!!!” Tell me about it. But once I have the note from Lance, I can get Strawberry Shortcake’s underthing and finally Brainy Smurf’s glasses.

“I want. I want a meal,” Tarkin said thoughtfully.

A meal?

“Catered and prepared by robots. With smaller robots on the table to fetch the salt and A-1 steak sauce. During dinner, the robots will recreate the 1967 Packers/Cowboys Ice Bowl game, play for play…to the tune of “Your Love” by The Outfield.”

Wow, you too? Can I come?


Can you at least tape it on a camcorder?

“Only if the camcorder footage is edited and directed by Optimus Prime.”

Undoubtedly. Undoubtedly. Damn, Tarkin is a smooth negotiator. Again, it’s probably the whole finger-on-the-trigger-of-the-motherfriggin-Death-Star.

Off to see Optimus Prime. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I think of the Autobots’ hangout, it’s the yellow-orange ship in the side of a mountain. I don’t think of Beast Wars, or Beast Machines or Shia Labeouf’s garage or whatever other stuff that had nothing to do with the original Transformers. (And you know, it pisses me off that the previous sentence pisses people off.)

So, Optimus, I nee– “A day off.” What? “I want a day off. You can have whatever you want, but this truck needs to park.”

No problem. I met Megatron for wings at Hooters. Megatron always goes to Hooters. “For the wings,” he insists.

Whatever, dude. I see you feeding old lines to the 17-year-old waitresses. It’s embarrassing.

“The wings. They’re good. Try one.”

Dude, the fry cook at any Hooters is lucky to have a lice-per-square-inch count under 600. I’ll pass.

“Your loss,” he scolds smearing sauce on his metallic lips. “You want me to give Prime 24 hours of piece and quiet?”

Well, I need your head. I can’t take you at your word, so the only way to be sure is to hold onto your head for a day.

“My head? Hm. We might be able to work something out. I’m gonna–Hey baby! You must be Jamaican, cuz Jamaican me crazy! Heheh.”

Oh sweet jesus.

“I’m gonna need a new head anyway. I was thinking something big.” Big, I jotted down in my notebook.

“Enormous.” Enormous, got it.

“A little…a little huge. A planet.” I snapped my pencil point. How will you walk? “Via an elliptical orbit around a solar furnace.” How can I argue that?

Only one dude deals in planets and planetoids. Big G.

“Galactus deigns not to hand over planets freely.”

No problem, I can getcha those ranch-flavored Fritos you’ve been itchin fer.

“Galactus will not be so easily sated today. I am very big. Your books are very small. I’d like some tiny glasses. Galactus hungers for tiny glasses!”

No problem, big guy. It’s simple, see. Once I get Galactus some tiny glasses, he’ll give me a planet for Megatron’s head which will give Optimus Prime the day off so he’ll direct a video of the Autobots preparing a meal for Grand Moff Tarkin. Tarkin will get me a red lightsaber with the pinkies of 30 dead Ewoks attached to the hilt and the pinkies are stuffed inside the head of Glenn Danzig. That gets Wolverine’s mojo for Hawk who will admit Lance into the G.I. Joe team as their new Captain (their Space Captain and not their Grand Funk Railroad captain). Lance will write a mash note for Strawberry Shortcake. She’ll give away her panties to Brainy Smurf who will give me his tiny glasses for my hard-to-shop-for lizard, and…damn it.

(Read from the beginning. It will make more sense that way. Possibly.)

Part 1: Brainy Smurf gots what I needs, yo
Part 2: Shortcake crushes on a Voltron Lion
Part 3: G.I. Joe needs a sensitive Hugh Jackman as Wolverine
Part 4: You just read it.


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