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  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    As always, a refresher for those who’ve been out of the loop thus far.

    X-Men vs. Aliens vs. Predators, starring Sponges


    Sponges joins the XAV Club (X-men + Cowboy Bebop + Firefly)


    Sponges and the gang visit Jurassic World


    @Master-Debater131’s excellent reviews of previous seasons





    Sponghead and the X-men, a rewrite of Sponges and the gang visit Jurassic World by @Arrem_Lowlander


    So what sorts of hijinks will ol’ Sponges and the gang be getting into this time? Oh, you’ll see. And I think you’ll be mighty pleased.

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • SwimPeanut Banned

    I miss downvotes.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 1- Sponges gets a Cease and Desist letter

    A continuous gentle tapping occupied Xavier’s thoughts as he sat in the calm of his office; the metronome-like reverberations of the falling water droplets from the melting snow providing an excellent background noise to his meditation. Within his mind, the dulcet tones of Chopin’s Spring Waltz reverberated as his consciousness meandered throughout his surroundings. From within this tranquil space, his mind echoed through the various halls and classrooms of his expansive estate; passing silently through the minds of the students and faculty within. A slight smile appeared in the corners of his mouth as his thoughts brushed up imperceptibly against those of the others on campus; Jean finishing her last lecture of the day, Logan teaching taekwondo in the gym, Rogue and Gambit sharing a joint out behind the dormitories. All was as it should have been. With a contented sigh, Xavier opened his eyes and took a sip from the cup of tea sitting on the desk before him.

    “What up my glip-glops?” I asked as I suddenly appeared across the desk from him, my unexpected incursion into his universe shattering the tranquility of the moment. Startled eyes wide, he began to cough mid-sip; his mouthful of tea spraying out to cover the desktop and the important papers upon it. I materialized a paper towel in front of him, which he s****hed from the air as he glared angrily at me. He opened his mouth to berate me, but was silenced as a large green swirling portal materialized in the wall behind us.

    “All right, that’s it,” said the wild-eyed, crazy haired elderly man in a white lab coat who stepped through the portal. “I mean it’s one thing to rip off our basic concept; I was willing to look the other way on that one. But when you start outright stealing my catchphrases, you’re crossing a line you don’t want to cross, buddy.” By this point, the angrily ranting old scientist had made his way over to Charles’s personal bar as a young boy in a yellow shirt emerged from the portal behind him, wide eyes darting excitedly over every inch of the room. Xavier again opened his mouth in an attempt to speak.

    “Hey, I’m not ripping off your concept,” I replied, interrupting Charles before he could talk.

    “Really?” asked Rick as he took a swig directly from a bottle of Xavier’s top-shelf booze. “Inter-universal traveling nihilist with a substance abuse problem going on all sorts of wacky adventures? That doesn’t sound just a little bit familiar?”

    “I don’t have a substance abuse problem,” I replied innocently.

    “Have you even read your own fanfictions, Sponges?” he countered. “You’ve definitely got some kind of problem.”

    “All of you; leave now,” shouted Xavier, only now managing to break into the conversation. “I demand that everyone who is not originally from this universe vacate these premises immediately. Furthermore…”

    As Xavier spoke, Rick aimed his portal gun and fired; a green swirling hole in reality opening in the floor beneath Xavier’s chair, gravity sucking him through mid-sentence.

    “Ok, now I’ve got a problem,” I said as the portal snapped closed.

    “Whu- what the hell did you do that for Rick?” asked Morty as a siren began to ring out, metal sheets sliding down to cover the windows as the estate’s security went into crisis mode. “You can’t just send Professor X off to a different universe like that!” he continued in a stammering panic. “Oh man, the X-men are gonna kill us for this Rick.” As he spoke the door to Xaviers office burst open as Cyclops and Wolverine stood in the doorway, a large crowd gathering behind them.

    “Sponges,” snarled Scott, his hands placed on his visor in preparation to fire. “I should have known it was going to be you again. Where is the Professor? What have you done with him?”

    “I don’t know where he is!” I said raising my hands in surrender. “I swear; I have no idea what’s going on here. Ask Rick, he’s the one who’s fvcking around with portals.”

    “Who the fvck is Rick?” demanded Cyclops. A loud belch was the reply.

    “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on here either, besides some definite copyright infringement,” began Rick after taking another swig. “It’s all Morty’s fault; I guess he must have rubbed two brain cells together and realized that there were universes out there with superheroes in them; wouldn’t stop whining until I finally promised to take him to one.” He took another long swig, finishing the bottle and throwing it to the ground where it shattered. He issued another loud belch before reaching for the next one. “So, which one of you is superman?” he asked as he chose a fancy decanter filled with amber liquid. “Can somebody just fly around the room a bit so he’ll be satisfied and we can go home?”

    “Oh, I’ll send you flying around the room all right,” said Scott as he stepped angrily towards Rick. “Don’t think I won’t hit an old drunk.”

    “Yeah,” replied Rick nonchalantly; his statement broken up by a hiccup. “I’m really scared. Bring it on tough guy, I’m standing right here.” Scott gritted his teeth as he prepared to unleash a blast of his laser vision.

    “S-Stop this, stop it right now, both of you!” cried Morty as he stepped in between them. “Now, you listen here, Rick. You- you promised me we could watch the X-men today,” he stammered anxiously. “And then the- the first thing you do is send their leader randomly flying out across the universe? H-how are we supposed to watch the X-men without Professor X? You need to… you need to bring him back here right now Rick, I’m serious.”

    “Jesus Morty, what are you going to do, cry about it?” said Rick as he took another drink. Morty continued staring defiantly at him. “Oh fine,” he said with another belch, putting down the container of expensive liquor and pulling his portal gun back out. But once we get him back, we’re done here, you understand? I’ve got all kinds of important shit to do today.”

    “You said you wanted to spend the afternoon at Blips and Chitz,” replied Morty.

    “Yeah, that’s important,” Rick said gruffly as he adjusted the knobs on his portal gun. “I was going to beat my high score on Roy. Ah, there we go, found him.” He pointed his portal gun up towards the ceiling, pulling the trigger as a green swirling portal appeared above us. With a terrified howl, Patrick Stewart fell from the portal; landing on the hardwood floor with a dull thud.

    “Ah, puta madre!” He shouted. Upon closer inspection, the man who had come out of the portal was several shades more tan than the one who had entered.

    “Xavier?” asked Cyclops as the man looked around confusedly at us.

    “Ah, no,” he said as he stood and brushed himself off. “Javier; Professor Charles Javier.”

    “So… we done here then?” asked Rick as he placed several bottles into the pockets of his lab coat.

    “What? No!” shouted Morty. “You brought back the wrong guy!”

    “Whaaat?” asked Rick. “What’s wrong with him?”

    “Well, first off, he seems to be a Mexican…” replied Cyclops.

    “Oh wow, I didn’t realize racism was so acceptable in this universe,” Rick shot back. “I bet Trump must have won in a landslide here. What, you- you want to deport me because my last name is Sanchez?”

    “What? No, I’m not a racist!” protested Scott. “Ask Storm; she’s a black.”

    “Oh yeah Scott, super convincing argument you’ve got there,” I interjected.

    “You stay out of this!” Scott shot back.

    “There’s also the fact that Charles was in, you know, a wheelchair,” said Wolverine as he appraised the situation.

    “All right, fine, I’ll try again,” said Rick as he opened a portal in the hardwood floor beneath Javier. He pressed a few buttons on his portal gun before continuing. “I uh… Can’t seem to reach him from here; the quantum geography’s all out of whack. Hang on, I’ve got an idea,” he said as he walked towards the open door to an adjacent empty room. “I’m gonna… I’m going to try it in here, with the door closed.” As he passed Xavier’s fireplace, he grabbed a long steel poker from its mount on the mantle. “I… need this thing to channel the residual uh… gravitation energy,” he said as his eyes darted about shiftily before stepping into the room and locking the door.

    “God damn it Sponges, what have you gotten us into this time?” asked Scott after several moments of angrily glaring at me. I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could speak Rick burst through the doors, pulling Professor Charles Javier out of the room on a wheelchair. The man’s head flopped limply about; an incognizant expression on his face and a cloud of alcohol fumes surrounding him. He groaned incoherently as he attempted to move his legs from under the blanket that covered them, but winced in pain and sat back in the chair.

    “Hey hey, All right, gang’s all back together!” said Rick. “So can we get out of this shithole now?”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • SwimParagon

    metatron4 said:

    I miss downvotes.

    Shush you. This guy's making Rick and Morty tolerable.

    "I feel like I should be banning way more of you." -- SwimMod_Luuv

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 2- Standing on the shoulders of giants

    “I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” said Scott through gritted teeth. “But you’ve got about ten seconds to bring Xavier back here, or we’ll all find out if I can put a hole through you with my energy vision.”

    “Just- just bring him back Rick!” begged Morty. “They’re seriously going to kill us!”

    “They’re not going to kill us Morty, all right?” replied Rick. “We’re the only ones who can bring their boss back, remember?”

    “Well then come on, Rick,” pleaded Morty, “Just bring him back already!”

    “I can’t, all right?” shouted Rick as he continued messing with the controls of the portal gun. “I mean, I can’t seem to find him out there…”

    “What, did you forget where you sent him?” asked Logan incredulously.

    “No, I mean, I know where he went,” replied Rick. “But he’s not there anymore. It’s like he jumped universes again after I sent him through the portal.”

    “All right, Sponges, where is he?” asked Scott, his rage-filled gaze turned to me.

    “What? You think I moved him?” I asked. “To the best of my knowledge I did not. Nor do I have any idea where he could be; it’s a big multiverse out there.”

    “Listen Sponges, we need to find him, right now, do you understand?” Scott demanded, angrily pointing a finger at me, the tendons in his neck bulging. “Now you need to make that happen.”

    “Batman!” shouted Morty suddenly. “What we need is Batman! He could- he could come over here and build some kind of like, inter-universal echo-locator or something…”

    “Nope,” said Rick cutting him off. “I promised you one superhero universe. You don’t get to drag batman into this too.”

    “Plus, I mean, he doesn’t usually have inter-universal powers,” I replied. “That’s ah, a bit out of his wheelhouse. I mean, there’s always Dr. Strange, but do you have any idea how much it costs to cast Benedict Cumberbatch?”

    “Who the fvck is Benedict Cumberbotch?” asked Wolverine. “You made that name up, didn’t you?”

    Javier again tried to speak, the force-fed alcohol anesthesia administered during Rick’s beatings sending a slurred string of half-slobbered Spanish syllables.

    “He’s right,” I said as he concluded. “Our best bet is to send a team to the universe of his last known location to look for clues.”

    “I’m pretty sure he didn’t say that, Sponges,” said Scott crossing his arms.

    “Oh, so suddenly you speak Spanish now?” I replied. “All right then big man, what’s your idea?” He opened his mouth to retort with a comment he could not seem to think of; an angry grimace crossing his face momentarily before turning to face the crowd of X-Men standing in the hallway behind him.

    “All right, listen up,” he began like a softball coach talking to children. “There’s no telling what we’re going to find on the other side of that portal. I want a small team; we’re going to recon the area immediately around the opening for clues, then get back here as soon as possible, understand?”

    “I’m coming,” said Jean. “If anyone can locate the Professor out there it’s me.”

    “Count me in too,” said Wolverine.

    “Ooh!” shouted Morty suddenly. “Can Deadpool come too? He’s in the X-men universe already, s-so it should be ok, right Rick?” Rick sighed before turning to me.

    “Is Deadpool still mad at you about the whole dinosaur-STD thing?” he asked.

    “Funny story actually,” I replied. “So he forgave me for that as long as I let him hook up with one of the other dinow***es. Well let’s just say she used a little too much teeth during a beej. So yeah, count him out while he recuperates.”

    “Well, you heard him Morty. No Deadpool,” said Rick as he shot a portal into the wall into the wall next to the fireplace. “All right, let’s go. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go to Blips and Chitz.”

    “Oh wait; shit, just a second,” I said. “I almost forgot to grab my plumbus.”


    Scott did a combat-roll out of the portal, because of course he fvcking did. He came to a stop in a kneeling position; hand placed on his visor controls, ready to blast anything that entered his field of vision as he surveyed the area.

    “Wow,” said Rick with a belch as he stepped through the portal and cracked open a can of beer simultaneously. “That was one of the lamest things I’ve ever seen, and I hang out with Morty all day.” The rest of us stepped out onto the lush purple grass of the wide open plane which stretched out in all directions beneath the golden sky; a pair of teal suns hanging above us.

    “It’s clear,” said Scott, ignoring Rick as he completed his scan of the horizon. “Jean, do you feel anything?”

    “Billions, all around us,” she said in a soft voice, almost in disbelief of herself as she spun around the empty plain, searching for the source of the other minds she detected.

    “Wait; everybody stop moving,” said Wolverine as a look of deep concentration crossed his face. “I hear sirens,” he continued. “Explosions… Screams, thousands of them.”

    “How far away?” asked Scott as he searched the horizon for a hint of smoke or any sign of a battle. “What direction?”

    “Down,” replied Logan after a moment. As he spoke his gaze shifted to the grass beneath out feet. Scott bent down, plucking a blade of the purple grass from the ground to examine it more closely. The plant’s surface was covered in a dense layer of almost-hair thin protrusions, laid out across its surface in a grid-like formation. Several patches of nearly microscopic ridges of a different shade and texture dotted the blade at irregular intervals. Scott turned the strange plant and examined the severed end.

    “My god,” he said as he looked down at the destruction he had caused when he tore it from the soil. “They’re cities.” Aghast, everyone looked down at their feet and the trails of destruction they had caused. Rick finished his beer and chucked the empty can, the weight of the aluminum cylinder crashing down from the sky and adding millions more to the death toll.

    “Well hey, at least we have a good way of tracking your bald guy now,” said Rick. “Just follow the screams in the wheelchair tracks.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • SwimPeanut Banned

    PerfectFlowingHair said:

    metatron4 said:

    I miss downvotes.

    Shush you. This guy's making Rick and Morty tolerable.

    The joke went from unfunny to criminally unfunny with you saying that.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Love me some Rick and Morty.

    Easily within my top 3 [as] shows.

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 3- Shit, maybe it was me…

    Jean quickly located the trail of destruction left by the professor as we followed it up over a slight rise in the terrain; each of us stepping gingerly so as to minimize the damage we caused. Except of course for Rick; who frolicked about with reckless abandon; cackling madly with every step.

    “Oh goddamn it,” I said as I crested the ridge, looking down at the scene in front of me. “Looks like Scott may have been right.” At the bottom of the valley, I stepped out of a portal followed by Beast and Mystique.

    “All right, joke’s over,” I said as I looked up at us. “What did you do with our Xavier?”

    “I was about to ask you the same question,” I said looking down at my doppelganger. As I spoke, another portal opened nearby, and I stepped through followed by Nightcrawler, Rogue, and Gambit.

    “Mmmm, damn,” said the accented Cajun as he turned to his accomplices. “Looks like I owe Cyclops $20”

    “All right, that’s it,” said Rick as still more Sponges teleported into the universe. “This is just a blatant copy of Rick and Morty, season 1, episode 10; Close Rick-Counters of the Rick Kind. What, what’s next?” he asked angrily. “What, are gonna get arrested by the Council of Sponges? It’s going to turn out you were framed by an evil Sponges? Is there going to be a doofus Sponges who eats his own shit? Seriously, how haven’t you been sued yet for this, this blatant theft of intellectual properties?”

    “Ok, there’s no doofus Sponges, all right? Well I mean there is Spongehead but he’s still stuck in the Jurassic World universe,” I said as the various iterations of myself began to mingle in the valley below. “As for the other stuff, firstly you don’t own the concept of multiple realities; I’m pretty sure Hugh Everett is the patent holder on that one. Secondly, you’re one to talk; given the original pitch of your show, The Real Adventures of Doc and Mharti. It was just a copy of ‘back to the future,’ whose one joke was that instead of time travel it was Mharti sucking your balls.”

    “Oh, wow, Rick geez that’s, uh… that’s,” began Morty uncomfortably.

    “That’s below the belt,” interjected Rick. “We may have only had one joke, but at least we knew when to end it and go for something new. What are you at now? Over a hundred pages of this garbage? Jesus man, give it a rest already, we get it.”

    “Shut up! Both of you! Now!” shouted Cyclops angrily. “We came here to find the professor, and apparently so did they,” he said, pointing to the ever growing crowd of Sponges and X-men which our group had now become a part of. “Someone gathered the Xaviers here for a purpose, and then took them somewhere else. We need to find out where that is.”

    “Dude, are you sure this wasn’t me?” I asked one of my other selves who was standing nearby arguing with his own group of X-Men. “This really seems like something I would do.”

    “It wasn’t you,” I replied. “Oh god, it wasn’t me, was it?”

    “No, I think I’d remember that,” I interjected from another group.

    “Will all of you please, shut the fvck up; I can’t hear myself think!” shouted Scott, his sudden outburst silencing the drone of conversation which had grown to an almost deafening level within the now massive crowd. “Does anybody have a plan here?”

    “Javier!” shouted a dark haired woman across the crowds as she saw the Latin Professor and our group. “Dios mio, what have they done to you?”

    “We uh… found him like this,” replied Rick.

    “Juanita Grisa?” Javier asked through the haze of alcohol. “¿Qué pasa chica?” he said cracking a smile through the pain of his broken legs. “Echa un vistazo a mis gringos.”

    “Wait a minute, I’ve got an idea,” I began. “How many Jean Greys do we have out there?” I shouted out over the crowds and several hands rose. “All right, I need you all to focus on Javier. Hopefully the combined force of your psychic energy will expound multiversally, and we’ll be able to use the psychic resonance to track the rest of the Xaviers down.”

    “All right, you’re just making shit up at this point,” said Rick dismissively as Jean, Juanita, and all her variations throughout the crowd entered a state of intense concentration.

    “Jean!” gasped Javier suddenly with the voice of Patrick Stewart as he shot up in his chair. “Jean I’m here, we’re all here! Can you sense us? Jean, you must hurry; it’s so cold here. You must hurry!” He gasped again before slumping back in his chair, his head rolling to the side as he vomited torrentially onto the thousands of grass-blade cities below him.

    “Jean, do you know where to find him?” asked Scott.

    “Yes,” they all replied simultaneously as an immense current of psychic energy crackled within the air. “Come,” they said, extending their hands. “We will take you there.”

    In an instant we found ourselves whisked away from that universe; the unending fields of microscopic purple grass cities beneath our feet replaced by an expanse of frigidly uniform white. Our crowd now looked around the frozen empty expanse which stretched out a hundred yards in every direction; terminating in a great black wall which stretched between the mountain peaks that circled the arena. The numbingly cold air which hung still in the near pitch black night hummed with energy; fiery lightening crackled above the synced Jeans among us, and was met by a thunder which rolled in from beyond the walls.

    The sudden concussion of a massive drum, amplified a thousand fold echoed throughout the expanse as the distant thunder grew louder. As the drum echoed again, massive gusts of flame tore through the air at five points across the circumference of the circular gate. The drum blast reverberated again, issuing another blaze as more resounding thumps added to the developing beat. Sections of the wall shook and collapsed in as explosive charges tore through the behemoth structure. Like ants swarming over the rubble, an immense crowd which dwarfed our own appeared out of the dust and smoke of the controlled demolition. The thunder of their shouts nearly drowned out the continuous beat of the drums as they poured in towards us from every direction. Like the cry of a dying hellbeast, a lone guitar split the thunderous atmosphere with a piecing wail that was soon joined by another. Torrents of flame once again burst into the air.

    “Awwww fvck,” I said with equal parts excitement and apprehension as an ominous black shape descended from the smoke filled night sky. “This is going to be brutal.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 4- A Song of Ice and Fire

    “Ok, wow… really?” shouted Rick over the incredibly complex harmonic guitar riffs which sliced through the night air. “Now you’re just asking to get sued by somebody.”

    “What?” I said with a grin. “It felt like an appropriate title.” As I spoke, the oncoming horde surged in from every side. An army of men and women clad in black; festooned in various chains, spikes and skull ornamentation charged towards us, looks of fearless blood rage upon their screaming contorted faces.

    “My god,” shouted Scott near hysterically as he realized he was in way over his head and began to panic. “What is this? The apocalypse?”

    “Eh… Kind of?” I replied as the permafrost beneath us began to tremor. The deafening metal reached a crescendo as a great ball of flame erupted within the sky with enough force to light the entirety of the enclosed arena. Above us, a massive burning steel sphere hung like a comet intent on our extinction. “Shit, you guys, we should probably start running here…”

    “Run?” shouted Scott as he stared out in horror at the human wall of death which rushed towards us from all sides. “Run where?”

    “I don’t know, anywhere that isn’t here,” I shouted as small explosions tore through the sky above the flaming ball; the detonation of the explosive bolts which held the structure in the air above us. Now aware of the threat, the various Sponges and X-men within the crowd scattered in a mad dash away from the impending point of impact. The icy ground beneath our feet groaned and buckled under the weight of the great sphere, which descended with incredible force into its surface. Flames licked at our backs as we ran, just barely cleared the circumference of the still burning asteroid which now settled itself into the ice sheet.

    I chanced a look backwards as we ran to see a beam of red light shoot out from an ever widening opening at the top of the flaming steel sun. With another massive gust of flame, the shell tore open, revealing the five musicians standing silently within. Everything was still for a moment as Nathan Explosion inhaled; his image magnified a thousand times and projected onto the inner walls of the great sphere amid a backdrop of flame. His face took on a fearsome grimace as the black metallic flood washed over us.

    In an instant we were lost; adrift within the riptide of an ocean comprised of reaving flesh, black leather, and steel. Flames again roared above us as we were tossed about the turbulent human sea like the cast of Gilligan’s Island. Like a hurricane above this oceanic crowd, the metal which rained down did indeed rock us. The fierce guttural vocals of Nathan Explosion reverberated over the animalistic cries of the crowd as he delivered his oration; a meditation on mass extinction and planetary annihilation. Pickle’s pounding percussion hammered through the crowds like the thundering hoof beats of a demonic stamped. The tortured cries of Toki and Skwisgaar’s guitars like the howls of dire wolves echoed within the night sky; and beneath it all, the nearly sub-audible ominous tones of Murderface’s bass vibrated through us. Overcome; I lost myself within the music and the writhing bodies around me.

    My trance was broken by a sudden smack which collided with my face. Stupefied I turned to see Rick staring angrily at me, preparing another blow.

    “Jesus, calm down!” I shouted at he hit me again. “Dude, what’s the problem?”

    “We’re fvcked, that’s the problem!” he shouted. “Some asshole in a black mask took my portal gun and busted it, said it was a security risk.” As he spoke, a bright red laser beam bore through the crowd near us, sending concert-goers flying.

    “Ok, I’ll drive you home, I promise.” I replied. “But first let’s take care of that ok?” Cautiously and with great difficulty; Rick, Morty, and I navigated the pit towards the source of the beam. With a final push we broke free from the crowds into a small clearing lined with bodies; in the center of which sat the charred husk of a malfunctioning laser-light machine which had seemingly exploded. “Shit, I thought that was Cyclops,” I said as I looked around. A few yards away Logan burst through the crowds, having assumed the same. Another bright red beam shot briefly into the sky nearby, followed by two smaller bursts and a final long beam.

    “That’s Scott, he’s signaling us!” shouted Wolverine as we plunged back into the mass. The song was nearly over by the time we reached him, Skwisgaar’s lightning fast finger work on his guitar solo whipping the crowd into a frenzy. “Scott, where’s Jean?” shouted Logan as our group jostled into him. Scott shouted an answer, but it was inaudible over the sound of the songs climax. Flames once again tore through the night, as we looked in the direction Scott was pointing. “Oh, shit,” replied Logan.

    Jean and Juanita hovered above the audience, bathed in coronas of fire. A large number of similar pyres now burned in several places within the massive crowd, the linked Jeans assuming a higher form. As we watched, Professor Javier crowd-surfed past on his wheelchair; an open bottle of liquor clenched in his upthrust fist as he drunkenly cheered along with the crowds. Wolverine reached up and grabbed his chair, pulling him down into our group.

    “Professor, can you reach Jean?” shouted Cyclops to the drunken man. “Professor, we need you to stop her before Phoenix takes over! Professor! Please!” The professor rose his hand to quiet Scott’s whining, and took on a look of extreme concentration. Scott turned to see the flames around Juanita extinguish as she dropped slowly to the ground in slumber. “No, god damnit!” shouted Scott. “I said Jean! Jean, not Juanita! Jesus Christ, you stupid fvcking drunk mexic-“

    “Whoah, whoah hey now, Cyclops, I mea- I mean, come on now man, that’s, that’s a little bit over the line don’t you think?” interjected Morty.

    “This isn’t a race thing!” shouted Scott angrily. “I’m just telling it like it is! He’s a drunk Mexican!”

    “He’s from the Dominican Republic, Scott,” I replied in a judgmental tone as Wolverine picked Juanita up off the ground. “Let this be a learning experience for you. Now come on,” I said as I grabbed onto Nightcrawler, who was conveniently passing by. “You need to take us up there,” I shouted into his ear, pointing towards the stage. “Or else we’re all going to burn.”

    He nodded, and with a blink we found ourselves transported from the chaotic mosh pit to the backstage area of the burning steel sphere.

    “Hey! What the fvck do you think you’re doing back here?” shouted an enormous man in a black hood. “Unauthorized civilians within the Incendiary Bandshell!” he shouted into his radio as he started towards us. “I repeat, we have a breach! Code level Omega, full lockdown!”

    “That’s a good idea,” I replied as flares once again roared through the crowd. This time, the pyrotechnics did not die down; the flames growing larger and wilder with every passing second. The ear shattering metal which continued to play was momentarily overshadowed by the piercing cry of a great cosmic firebird. The massive steel sphere snapped to a close just barely before becoming engulfed within the inferno.

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Special Snowflake

    As always... we need more out loud reading time

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 5- Thunderdome

    “Excuse me, I don’t believe you’re allowed to be in here,” began a dark haired man in a business suit and glasses. Behind him stood a row of black-masked men, many of whom were brandishing medieval weaponry. “I ask that you please cooperate with my associates as they escort you from the premises.”

    “What, you mean you’re going to toss us out into the fire?” asked Wolverine.

    If you cooperate,” replied the man. Behind him, a black-hooded man pounded a spiked truncheon against his leather gloved palm. Wolverines claws slowly extended as the man watched. “Very well,” he said, loosening his tie and removing his cufflinks. “We’ll do this the difficult way.”

    “Wait! Chill! Everybody chill ok?” I shouted as I jumped between the two. “It’s all good,” I continued. “We’ve got backstage passes.” I said as I materialized them from the air and handed them to the man. He looked them over meticulously; examining the microprint security numbers, light-reactant dye, and a myriad of other anti-forgery features. Finally satisfied with their authenticity, he handed them back to us and ordered the men behind him to stand down.

    “I apologize for the confusion, Mr. Sponges,” said the man. “But I’m sure you understand my caution, given the current situation.” A few feet away, several more Sponges and X-Men teleported in. He looked to them before turning back towards me with a confused expression on his face.

    “It’s cool,” I said, producing more backstage passes from the ether.

    “What the fvck happened out there Ofdensen?” growled Nathan as he stomped angrily off the stage.

    “Yeah, I thoughts everythings was goings goods,” said Skwisgaar in his deeply accented vernacular. “I means yah, Toki was a little slows on the pickups but ah…”

    “You was the slow one Skwisgaar,” Toki replied quietly with a frown.

    “I know what’s going on here,” butted in Murderface angrily. “You cut us off right before I could start my solo! I guess playing the bass with a stream of piss is just too brutal for some people. Or maybe I should just kill myself, would that make you happy?”

    “Dude come on, nobody needs to kill themselves, Jesus,” replied Pickles. “I mean we still got paid, right?”

    “Yes we did,” replied Ofdensen.

    “Well all right then, we did our jobs,” continued Pickles as he opened a bottle of beer “Now it’s time to relax, all right?” As he spoke, he made his way towards X-23, Psyloche, and a tall, thin, blonde woman dressed in black who had just teleported in. “So what do you ladies have planned for the rest of the night?”

    “Eating p***y,” said my deep-voiced female doppelganger (@Master-Debater131 's request) as she put her arms around the other two girls. “And I’m not going to share.” Pickles put his hands up and backed away slowly as an alarm blared out above us.

    “Oh what now?” complained Cyclops as a man in a black hood ran up to speak privately with Ofdensen.

    “I’ve just been informed that the hull of the Incendiary Bandshell has sustained catastrophic heat damage,” he said as he tightened his tie and began walking towards the main control console for the massive steel sphere.

    “Whats do yous means, it’s takens heats damage,” asked Skwisgaar incredulously. “We hads its builts specifically to be ons fires.”

    “Yes, well when it was designed they had not anticipated that it would be exposed to flames of such magnitude,” replied Ofdensen as he brought up the information on the console. “These flames are in fact several hundred times hotter than the fires the hull was designed for."

    "I don't gets it," said Toki. "How can fires be hotter than fires? That be like making a black blacker than black."

    "Oh man, they actually did that," replied Nathan. "I saw it online a few weeks back. It's so black it's like it's not even there."

    "Wow, maybes we should gets some of thats and paints over Tokis guitar," began Skwisgaar. "So we wouldn't haves to sees his awfuls playing."

    “So… wait, what the fvck were you saying about the heat damage again?” Pickles interjected as he finished the beer, chucking the bottle. The green glass shattered against the steel wall of the interior of the dome.

    “Well,” began Ofdensen. “I’d say we have about ten to fifteen minutes before the fire causes a buckling in our hull, at which point we would be crushed within a rapidly collapsing ball of metallic fire.”

    “Oh wow, that’s brutal,” said Nathan Explosion. “So, what should we do?”

    “WHO WANTS TO DO SOME FVCKING C-C-C-C-C-COCAINE!” shouted a clown which suddenly burst onto the scene.

    “Eh, may as well,” replied Rick as he pulled a bill from his pocket and began rolling it. “I mean if some assholes hadn’t smashed my portal gun I could have gotten us all to safety by now, but no; we all get crushed to death instead."

    “C-Come on Rick, you can’t give up!” pleaded Morty as Rick bent down to snort a line cut by Dr. Rockso. “There has to be something you can do!”

    “There is,” said Rick gruffly as he inhaled the white substance.

    “Oh, holy shit, there is something I can do!” he shouted as he suddenly leapt up and ran to the console, shoving Ofdensen aside as he began typing furiously. “Man I-I didn’t realized concert technology was so advanced in this universe,” he said, eyes wide and frantic as they darted about the screen. “Yes! There it is!” he shouted as he left the console and ran to a section of the floor which he pulled up with almost superhuman strength. Tossing it aside, he leapt into the space beneath and began tossing up handfuls of wires and other electronic components. “All I have to do is reroute a bit of the energy from the fission battery core to overload through those phasic laser generators. If I run the intercept route correctly I should be able to maintain a quantum psionic field strong enough to transport us out of here.”

    “All right, now who’s the one just making shit up?” I replied.

    “Still just you,” replied Rick as he continued to work below deck. A shower of sparks flew before we were plunged into darkness; the hum of the amplifiers faded into silence, and the temperature began to rapidly rise as the air conditioning units shut down. After a moment the amber emergency lighting blinked to life, Illuminating Rick as he crawled from the hole and ran towards the control council. With a mad fury of jittery and erratic jerks he typed in commands; sweat dripping down his brow at the temperatures within the Incendiary Bandshell became almost unbearable. There was a loud groaning noise as the steel hull began to give away. “I got it!” he shouted finally as he hit the last button; the laser light displays above us rotating to face each other before a crackling burst of white energy erupted between them. The temperature of the room immediately skyrocketed as the ball of white plasma expanded to engulf the interior of the burning sphere.

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 6- Global Warming is a hoax perpetrated by the liberal media

    “Jesus Christ!” shouted Scott as he gasped suddenly into consciousness; the effects of the hastily rigged together quantum teleportation device leaving him with a tingling numbness. Slowly his nervous system adjusted and the feeling faded, but the fatigue of the experience did not. He faltered slightly as he attempted to stand; reaching out to steady himself on a nearby metal railing as a sudden wave of vertigo hit him. The majority of the other individuals within the Bandshell were in a similar state; save for Dr. Rockso, Pickles, Rick, Javier, and a couple of the Sponges doppelgangers who all stood around a table doing lines.

    “You might want to join them,” I said as I walked past, surveying the scene. “”It’ll probably help with the dizziness.”

    Scott glared at me and gritted his teeth, pulling away from the metal rail and stalking angrily towards the table. Reaching the group, he grabbed the nearest Sponges by the shoulder and sent a fist directly into his face.

    “Where the fvck are we now?” he demanded angrily after sucker punching the Sponges. “Where the f**k is the Professor?” he demanded as he hit him again and again. “Where the fvck is Jean? Can you answer any of those questions?”

    “Joder! Detener pegarme!” shouted the Sponges as he was viciously beaten by Scott. “Dios Mio! No te entiendo, ¿Qué estás diciendo?”

    “Jesus Christ Scott, calm down,” I said as I pulled him away from the Latin Sponges. “Man, you must really hate Mexicans…”

    “I thought you said they were from the Dominican Republic!” replied Scott angrily as he gestured towards Javier and Juanita, who was still passed out.

    “Yeah, they are, but the Sponges you were beating is from Mexico.” I said as I helped my doppelganger to his feet. “Honestly Scott, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

    “Listen here you son of a bitch,” demanded Scott, his finger pointed into my chest. “Tell me where the fvck we are, right now.”

    “There’s no real way to know,” said Rick as he stepped away from the cocaine table. “I mean I couldn’t really steer this thing that well; the technology wasn’t all there and I was kind of high on cocaine at the time.” He paused to wipe some of the white powder from where it sat just below his nostril. “We didn’t go far though; relatively speaking. I’d say we’re something like fifty to a couple thousand Standard Universal Deviations away.” As he spoke, he made his way back towards the command console.

    The gigantic steel hull gave a groan as its charred exterior ground open to reveal the world beyond. The sounds of car horns and insults blared in at us as we looked out at the massive traffic jam we were in the center of. All around us skyscrapers reached off into the sky; their glass and concrete façades decorated with massive plasma screens, the majority of which were dedicated to news coverage of the continent wide inferno that was currently raging in Antarctica. On several of the screens, live footage of the massive steel sphere on Broadway was being broadcasted as well; one image zoomed in on Morty as he waved from the stage down at the news van which was currently recording. Rick grabbed him and pulled him back stage with the rest of us. Many of the screens switched to news coverage of the massive global tsunami caused by the high rate of melt which was currently making its way north from Antarctica.

    “Well great, looks like we’ve got another problem to deal with,” said Scott like the whiney bitch he is. “I don’t suppose you could teleport us somewhere a little less noisy so we could come up with a plan in peace?” he turned to ask Rick, who was currently air-drumming erratically along with a beat that only his cocaine-induced mental state could keep rhythm with.

    “Oh-ho, no can do, amigo,” said Rick with a chuckle. “Used up all the juice on that one jump. Honestly I didn’t even think we’d make it; gave it like 30% chance, tops. Seriously, I didn’t think we’d be having this conversation. I figured we’d be like… obliterated across the fabric of the multiverse; like skittles dropped from a skyscraper, bouncing off all the windows as it fell. Goddamn, this is good cocaine. But yeah, she’s fried.”

    “So, we’re stuck here,” summarized Scott. “Does anybody have anything resembling a plan here?”

    “Esponjos!” Shouted Javier excitedly from the cocaine table “Usted todavía tiene la capacidad de cambiar de universos no es así?”

    “Silencio, vamos a ver qué pasa.” I said quickly.

    “What did he say?” asked Scott.

    “He said he’s really gangster,” I replied. “And he asked if you want to get your white boy ass beat.”

    “… Did he really say that?” asked Scott, nervously eyeing the grinning Javier.

    “I don’t know, he’s high on cocaine, he could have said anything.” I replied. “Anybody else have any thoughts?”

    “I wonder if we could get tickets to Hamilton in this universe,” thought Cable aloud. “What? Just thinking out loud here. I mean if we’re stuck in this universe we may as well enjoy ourselves, maybe take in a show while we’re here.”

    “I know something else you’d enjoy taking in,” said Gambit as he walked up behind him and gave his buttocks a firm squeeze (@SandStone 's request).

    “Oh you’re so bad,” said Cable as he turned to embrace his lover.

    “I was talking about dinner for two at Sushi Zen, Mon Cheri,” said Gambit playfully.

    “Wait, what the fvck is going on here?” asked Scott in a state of shock. “You two are… homosexuals?”

    “Yeah, they’re from the universe where gays actually make up the majority of the population,” I replied. “Actually I go there sometimes to get haircuts, they really know their shit. And the lesbian porn there is amazing. But I suppose you’re going to be all intolerant about this too.”

    “I just…” began Scott, “I mean I never in a million years imagined Gambit and Cable being… gay…”

    “Fvck you, Scott,” said Cable angrily. “You’re not my real dad.”

    “Guys, we’ve got company,” said Wolverine as he pointed towards a large black sedan with red tinted windows which sat amidst the traffic. As he spoke, two men in matching black and red jumpsuits exited the vehicle and started towards us. “Do you think these guys are going to be a problem?” asked Logan as his adamantium claws extended.

    “That depends,” I said as the men got closer. “Have you guys all been paying your guild dues?”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Now that we're in the Venture Bros universe, I felt it was appropriate to make you all wait a long time for new episodes.

    OH SNAP!

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 7- The Perils of Unlicensed Aggression

    “We mean you no harm!” said the harsh sounding voice of one of the men as he clambered onto our craft. “We come in peace!”

    “Yeah-hah, peace between worlds man, all right! Woo!” said Rick while flipping a double bird to the sky before turning back to the cocaine table.

    “We’re not aliens,” said Scott angrily.

    “Hah! You owe me $20!” said the second man in the matching black uniform and cybernetic eyepiece as he heaved himself up on deck, his voice equally scratchy.

    “Ehh… I mean we’re kind of aliens,” I argued. “I mean, we are all technically alien to this universe…”

    “Hah! Extra-dimensional beings totally count! Hand it over.” said the first man; errant tufts of blond hair sticking out from beneath his black hood.

    “I’ll get it to you later,” replied the second man as he came to stand next to the first. “Let’s just stick to our objectives right now, ok?” with that, he turned to speak with our assembled crowd. “My name is Watch, this is Ward. We’ve been sent by The Guild of Calamitous Intent to inform you that we have issued an inju.nction on you unsanctioned supervillainy.”

    “Oh wowwee, dudes is we’s supervillains nows?” asked Toki excitedly.

    “We’re not supervillains!” Scott shouted at him.

    “Well, you seem to have lit Antarctica on fire,” replied Ward. “So if you’re not supervillains, you should really re-think your career choices.”

    “Furthermore,” continued Watch. “The Council of 13 has requested your presence in a formal hearing. If you would please follow us…”

    “What if we don’t want to go?” asked Logan, extending his claws.

    “Oh wow, geez that’s,” began Watch, obviously unnerved. “I mean you’ve already basically doomed the planet; in 24 hours this whole place will be under water. So, I mean; I doubt there’s really much we can really do to you guys to make you come with us. We were just kind of hoping to convince you to stop the whole world ending catastrophe.”

    “What?” shouted Murderface. “I thought you guys were supposed to be villains! Why would you want to stop the apocalypse?”

    “I-I kind of gotta agree there,” interjected Rick rapidly, his eyes twitching as he bent down to inhale another line. “I mean, as far as bad shit goes, dooming a planet to extinction is pretty brutal.”

    “Wow that is brutal,” replied Nathan Explosion. “I should write a song about that.”

    “You ah, did write a song about that,” stated Ofdensen. “You had just finished performing it when this whole thing started, in fact.”

    “Oh yeah, that’s right,” said Nathan. “Still, it’s pretty metal.”

    “Ugh, typical men.” The voice was equal parts sultry and gravel, as the raven-haired Dr. Mrs. The Monarch emerged from the shadows of the stage scaffolding. “Supervillainy isn’t just obliterating things for the sake of destruction; it’s about finesse, the subtle art of subterfuge. It’s an art form, not a… demolition derby.”

    “Well spoken, councilwoman,” said a man who appeared to be a floating head and torso in a purple jumpsuit. “I’m afraid the concept of supervillainy doesn’t mean much when everyone is dead.”

    “Quite right,” said a heavily accented small bald old Asian man who appeared as well. “The art of costumed antagonism is a proud and ancient tradition; with rules and customs which must be obeyed!” He walked up to the command console as the various other members of the Council filtered in behind him, entering the code to slide the massive sphere shut in order to give our meeting a relative sense of privacy.

    “Your actions have upset a careful balance,” stated a massively obese man in an expensive looking black and red pinstripe suit. As he spoke, he reached behind himself and tossed a large squirming bag onto the floor before us. “In order to ameliorate this threat, drastic measures had to be taken.”

    “To have any hope of fixing this situation,” continued Phantom Limb, “We needed the most prolific scientific mind on the planet to help us.” As he spoke, the squirming bag came open, and a scrawny pale bald man with a bright red beard and glasses crawled out. “Unfortunately, he died last year in a space-station explosion and we could only acquire his brother.”

    “Oh ho, you’re really stepping in it this time,” said Doctor Venture as an albino in a pink and white suit and a dwarf with an eyepatch and robotic hand crawled out of the bag behind him. “Do you have any idea how many regulations you’re breaking right now? The OSI is going to hear about this.”

    “The OSI has heard, sonny boy,” said the gruff voice of General Hunter Gathers from the shadows; the soft light of a cigarette illuminating his face in the darkness. “In case you’re unaware, we’ve got a literal tidal wave of a shit storm headed our way and this is our only recourse. It’s on you to find some way to stop this thing, understand?”

    “Well what the hell am I supposed to do?” asked the doctor. “I mean, we don’t even know what’s causing this, how can I possibly come up with a plan?”

    “I think I have an idea,” replied Beast. “The fire started in the other universe when all of the Jeans simultaneously transformed into Phoenix. But Javier was able to pull Juanita out of sync before she could transform. If we could somehow find all of the Xaviers and bring them back to the first universe, they might be able to shut down the Jeans and stop the fire. Hopefully, if the universes are connected, that would stop the blaze here as well.”

    “Great,” replied Scott. “So we just have to find all the Xaviers. Which is what we were trying to do in the first place.”

    “I’ve got it!” said Hank Venture as he crawled out of the sack, Dean following close behind. “We need to find Batman.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 8- Divine Inspiration

    Dr. Venture rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses with his thumb and index finger while issuing a frustrated sigh.

    “Hank, you’re practically a grown man now,” he said, pausing to consider his words. “We should have had this talk a long time ago… There is no such thing as Batman. He’s a myth; a legend. Like leprechauns or Jesus.”

    “Okay, that’s not technically true.” I interjected. “I’ve met leprechauns; they’re actually pretty cool, if you can get them to come outside and hang out. Mostly though they always just want to chill out in their tiny little houses getting drunk and fvcking. Oh yeah, they’re huge perverts. They actually invented their own steam engines roughly around the same time as humans, but so far they’ve only ever used them to power sex toys. Granted when you’re the size of a leprechaun, you’re kind of limited in the size of steam engine you can build, so I guess they can’t really power much more than that anyways…”

    “What the fvck are you talking about?” asked Scott, staring at me with disgust. “You know what? Never mind. Stop talking; we need some kind of plan here. Beast, do you have any ideas?”

    Beast shook his blue furry head and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak he was interrupted by his own voice coming from the growing crowd around the cocaine table.

    “Yes, I’m quite sure I’ve come up with an excellent solution to our current scenario.” The crowd parted around the second Beast as he loped ahead; his long arms dragging knuckles behind him as he moved. The bright red fur which coated his disproportionate body and sloping forehead made him appear like an orangutan-based muppet. Upon seeing this version of himself, the first Beast recoiled in horror. “Oh, real nice,” said the second. “Judgemental fvcking hypocrite aszhole. But anyways, back on subject. What we need to do here is build an Inter-Universal Cerebro.”

    “Is that… something that exists?” asked Doc. “Or are you just that high?”

    “Well it doesn’t exist yet,” continued the coked out Beast. “But we can make it you guys, I just know it. I mean look at us; we’re some of the greatest scientific minds in our respective universes, and we’ve been put together inside a sphere of incredible technology. Challenged to fight for the very survival of this earth! Destiny has brought us together with everything at stake! But we can do this you guys, do you know why?”

    “Because… we’re heroes?” asked Scott?

    “Because we got a fvck ton of c-c-c-c-cocaine!!!!” shouted Dr. Rockso as he took a long snort. “Ooh baby!” he shouted as he looked for the next person to hand the rolled up hundred dollar bill to. “Who’s line is it anyways?” said the clown before handing it off to Drew Carrie.

    “All right, whatever,” began Dr. Venture. “World’s ending soon anyways, may as well do a bit of the old nose candy before I die.” Rick cheered excitedly in the background.

    “Ok, wait,” interjected Scott angrily. “Before you goddamn coke heads start tearing apart the ship for scrap metal; there’s a problem with your theory. Say you build this Inter-Universal Cerebro, who’s going to control it? Javier? Juanita? They don’t even speak English!”

    “I speak English,” said Juanita, who had woken from the hypnosis Javier had placed over her. “I’ve spoken English in front of you. What, just because I’m Latina means I don’t know how to speak your superior white language? Fvck you, you racist pr!ck.” With that, she bent to the table top and did a line. “Woooh! Dios mio, ai papi!” she shouted bringing her head back. “Hey boys,” she said nodding to Dethklok and their instruments. “I think we might need a montage here.”

    The band was more than happy to honor her request; launching into some fast-paced speed metal as the scientists lined up at the inspiration table. Upon completing their respective rails, each ran off to a different part of the ship; tearing out various electrical components with nothing more than fierce determination and their bare hands, just as Scott had predicted. Soon they had amassed a large pile in the middle of the floor. Presently, they paced around the pile restlessly, each examining the components from all angles, mumbling to themselves as they planned. Several unproductive minutes went by before the light of an idea shone in Pete White’s alabaster face.

    “Hey, you guys uh… think we should maybe do some more of that Columbian snow?” he said, gesturing back to the cocaine table. “I mean, the first round went pretty well; we got this whole pile of great stuff, right?”

    “No god damn it, no more cocaine!” said Scott angrily. “Focus on the task at hand!”

    “The task at hand is stupid,” replied Rick as he pulled pulled several pieces from the pile and began his construction a short ways away from the main group. “I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as an Inter-Universal Cerebro, and even if that fool’s errand ends up panning out what good is finding them going to do if we can’t get to them? Now that we’re not in immediate danger of being crushed in a fiery implosion I can take my time with these components, really figure out how they work.”

    “Well don’t take too much time,” said Scott angrily as he googled the news on the command console. “Five hundred miles of the tips of Argentina and Chile are underwater right now. Millions dead. Time is kind of a factor here.”

    “Well if you’d let us do more cocaine…” suggested Pete White once again.

    “Listen to me, right now;” said Scott angrily as he turned towards the cocaine table and raised his hand to his visor. “I will burn every ounce of cocaine if you people don’t get to work on this thing!”

    “All right, fine, jeez,” White replied. “But we can have more when we’re done, right?” Scott prepared to flip open his visor before I stepped in front of him.

    “Hey, that’s ah, probably not the best idea on a lot of levels Scott.” I said, attempting to stop him. “I mean, we’re in an enclosed area here… If you light that table up, it’s probably going to have the exact opposite effect you were hoping for. Plus, I mean, it is a good incentive for them to keep working if you let them have some more when they’re done. Carrot and stick, all that, you know?”

    “Fine,” Scott replied angrily. “You can have some when you’re done, just get to work.” As he spoke, there arose a clatter as the pile of machinery shifted suddenly. The various pieces of machinery began to rise into the air and assemble themselves. An elderly Latino man in a metal helmet stepped out from the crowds, walking towards Javier.

    “Señor Imánito!” said the Professor excitedly. “Finalmente podemos hacer que esta cosa construida. Estos gringos no tienen idea de lo que están hacienda.” As we watched, the various electrical components flew about the room with pinpoint accuracy. Javier and Imánito were able to assemble the makeshift Cerebro within moments; modification input by Rick and Doc imbuing it with multi-universal capabilities. When it was finally complete, Dr. Rockso christened the control console of the new machine with a long line of yeyo before handing the helmet off to Juanita, who did the same. She placed the helmet on her head and focused intently. Several long tense moments of silence went by.

    “Well, Australia just went under,” said Scott, apparently under the impression that his complaints would help the situation at all. “So I guess that means all the marsupials are extinct.”

    “Not all of them,” I replied. “We’ve still got opossums, and that’s something to celebrate.”

    “I’ve found them!” shouted Juanita suddenly. “I’ve found all of them!” The inter-universal coordinated began to print out on the screen of the command console; Rick quickly entering them into the navigational system.

    “It’s not actually that far away,” he said as he entered the information. “Only about three-thousand some SUDs.”

    “Ugh,” said Dr. Venture as he looked over Ricks shoulder at the coordinate information. “It’s in New Jersey.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 9- Heading for resolution?

    A spark of electricity discharged as Imánito connected the jumper cables to the intersecting laser array that Rick assured would teleport us directly to the Xaviers. The circle of lights on the wall began to strobe; their flashes growing exponentially more frequent until the space between them ruptured, creating a blindingly white void of emptiness.

    “So now we… jump in there?” asked Dean nervously. Next to him, Hank looked absolutely thrilled.

    “No, there’s no telling what we’ll find on the other side. You two are staying here, understand?” said Doc. “So, do we ah… jump in there or what?”

    “No, this is our fight,” replied Scott as he pointed out at the various other X-men in the crowds, whom he now turned to address. “Come on you guys, let’s get our Xaviers back!” he shouted as he ran headfirst towards the light.

    “Well, you heard him Morty,” said Rick as the various X-men followed him through the portal. “Mutants only. So, can we go now?”

    “What? Are you- are you kidding Rick? I mean this is… I mean this must be leading up to a boss fight here. This is the part I’ve been waiting to see! I mean this whole time we’ve been following the X-men around and they haven’t really fought anybody yet, I think it’s finally going to happen here Rick. Come on man, it’s gonna be big Rick, I know it. We gotta… we gotta see it through to the end here.”

    “Jesus, all right fine,” said Rick. “We’ll go. But I swear this is the last universe before we hit up Blips and Chitz, understand?”
    An ear splitting shatter rang out like broken glass through the enclosed space as a massive crack tore through the side of the laser array. Like lightening, the crack spread outwards; fracturing the reality it came into contact with. Sections of existence fell into darkness like the chipped away pieces of a broken mirror as the fissure spread ever outwards, reaching to engulf us all.

    “Wh-What’s going on now?” asked Morty as Rick panickedly snorting a final line of coke.

    “Remember what I said earlier about skittles getting dropped off the roof of a skyscraper?” he replied; terror in his wild eyes as existence shattered around us.


    A sharp stabbing pain in his side was the first thing Rick was aware of as he shot back into consciousness. The stabbing repeated itself as his eyes snapped open; his gasping mouth breathing in nothing but water. A third violent poke to his ribs caused him to tear himself from the surface of the water with a violent splash. Bloodshot eyes darting everywhere, Rick surveyed the universe in which he had found himself.

    “Oh good your alive,” said a voice which did not sound entirely sincere. Rick spun around to face the man who had been poking him in the ribs with a rake handle; a balding head sat atop an annoyed face; a bushy black mustache complementing the thick black arm and chest hairs which covered the shabbily dressed man.

    “Here’s a towel, now go over there with the rest of your little friends,” he said, pointing to the rest of us drying off behind the wood-paneled house next door. “And tell them and the rest of the freaks to stay out of my pool,” he continued before heading back towards his house. “It’s before noon on a Tuesday for Christ’s sakes; I shouldn’t even be awake yet! Ah what the hell, I’m just gonna get drunk and rent a porno, whatever.”

    Rick quickly toweled himself off and walked towards us; still partially in shock from the fact that he had survived the universe shattering in one piece.

    “Are we the only ones who made it out, Rick?” asked Morty as Rick sat down on the grass with his back to the wall; surveying what remained of our group. Apart from himself and Morty, there sat Cyclops, Juanita, Javier, Beast, and me.

    “Well, we’re the only ones who made it here, I guess,” said Rick, still looking around apprehensively. Assuming here is where we wanted to be.”

    “Oh-ho, I assure you, you do not want to be here,” shouted an obnoxious voice as a large white shape emerged from around the side of the house. “Because here is private property. And right there, where you’re standing now, is putting you in direct violation of my property rights!” The ranting figure came closer and it became apparent that it was a man-sized floating cup with eyes, a mouth, two yellow-gloved hands, and a large straw sticking out the top of its head. “And the punishment for violating my sovereignty is severe!”

    “Whoah whoah whoah, calm down Shake,” said an equally massive anthropomorphic floating box of french-fries with a beard. “What’s going on here? Who the hell are you guys?” as he spoke, a dog sized ball of sentient meat rolled up behind him and waved at us with a smile.

    “Well, I take it this means we’re in the wrong universe then?” asked Scott. “Probably with no hope of getting back, right?”

    “More than likely,” said Rick. “So… does anybody here have any cocaine?”

    “No!” said Juanita suddenly, an elated look on her face as she focused her psychic energy. “The Xaviers are here, I can feel them! They’re not far away!”

    “Can you take us to them?” asked Scott, the end finally in sight.

    “It’s too far to walk,” said Juanita. “But I’m certain we could drive there.”

    “Why hello, hot Latin mama!” shouted Shake as he noticed Juanita. “I’d love to take you for a ride some time baby.”

    “You don’t have a car,” replied Meatwad, who was immediately shushed by Mastershake.

    “I do have a car, a sexy car! I just keep it parked in front of the neighbor’s house for safety! Hang on, stay right there, I’ll pull it around for you.”

    “Shake, you’re not stealing Carl’s car,” said Frylock.

    “Actually, if you could, that would help us out a lot,” said Juanita, flashing a smile at him.

    “Besides, he’s not using it right now anyways! He’s busy watching Lesbian Cheerleader Camp 14; which I am… totally not recording right now on the knockoff DVR I’m stealing his cable with,” said Mastershake shiftily.

    “All right fine,” sighed Frylock as we all walked towards the car Shake was already in the process of hotwiring. “But no joyriding; we’re running this one errand and then its straight back home, understand me?”

    “What?” chuckled Mastershake as he touched two wires together, starting the engine. “You think I want to miss any of Lesbian Cheerleader Camp 14?”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 10- May Cause Reflexive Memory

    Scott woke suddenly to the sound of sirens, his face pressed up against the rough concrete of the sidewalk he was sprawled out upon. He began to lift himself from the earth; fighting wave upon wave of disorientation as he looked at his surroundings in an attempt to ground himself in this reality. It appeared that only a few of the other X-men had made it through the portal; Nightcrawler, Wolverine, and Storm were currently leaning against the wall of the window-barred convenience store they had suddenly found themselves in front of as I stepped out from the shabby alley next to it. Neither Juanita nor Javier were anywhere in sight. Scott’s still foggy gaze turned from his small team in front of the convenience store to the liquor store across the alley. Looking across the street, he saw a row of near-crumbling tenement buildings, their walls covered in graffiti. The sign post on the corner marked streets named after famous civil rights leaders. Sirens blared again far off in the distance as Scott realized fearfully that they were in a bad neighborhood.

    The barred glass door of the convenience store opened with a jingle as an aging black man stepped out, a cigarette in his lips and a seemingly permanent furrow of frustration atop his forehead. He looked warily at Scott, who froze in fear as the man pulled a lottery ticket from his pocket and began scratching it as he walked away. Scott let out a relieved exhale as the man turned the corner.

    “We’ve got a big problem here, you guys,” he said as he turned back towards the team.

    “Oh come on Scott, They’re just black people,” I replied. “No reason to get all freaked out.” Behind me, Storm crossed her arms.

    “I was talking about the fact that without Juanita or Javier we have no way to track the Xaviers,” he stated defensively. “And without any of the scientists, we have no way to get them back even if we found them!”

    “What about me?” I asked, finally addressing the plot hole that’s been bugging at me all season. “I could always just take you guys back there.”

    “Do you really think I would trust you to do that?” asked Scott. “Better question; do you even have any idea where we are right now? What’s going on here? I mean, there were like 30 of you back in the other universe, how do I know you’re the one we started this thing with? How do I know you won’t just drag us into some hell dimension or something?”

    “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I replied. “I’ve got no plan here. Can you think of anything?”

    Scott was silent for several moments, hatred burning in his eyes as he stared at me. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water; attempting to think of something smart to say but failing utterly.

    “Shit…” he said suddenly as his gaze was now directed over my shoulder at the dark skinned man in tattered robes who has just turned the corner and was now heading towards us. “I think that’s a Muslim.” I looked back over my shoulder at the sandal-clad man Scott was staring at. “Oh god, he’s coming right towards us.”

    ”Man Scott, you really need to calm down," I said as the man smiled and walked up to us. “It's just Jesus.” (@bnmjy 's request)


    Scott’s eyes flashed open as he tore into consciousness. He was momentarily blinded by the intensely bright rays of the sun which hung high overhead. He quickly turned away from the light as he scrambled to his feet on the red-clay gravel road he had found himself laying upon. He swatted away a small cloud of gnats and other biting insects that had condensed on the group from the sweltering air above; the constant drone of their chirping from the thickets of tall grass on the sides of the road ringing in Scott’s ears as he tried to maintain his focus.

    “Whoah, where are we pops?” asked Hank as he gained consciousness nearby.

    “Well, we’re certainly not in New Jersey,” Dr. Venture replied, picking himself up from the gravel road and examining his glasses to make sure they had not been broken. “We could be anywhere… any universe, really.”

    “It looks kinda like back home,” said Rogue with the slight twang of her southern accent. “Mississippi? Georgia maybe?”

    Scott’s attention now shifted to the others around him. Of the various X-men who followed him through the portal, only Rogue, the Orangutan-Beast, and Imánito had come out. Apart from them, the Ventures, and myself, Scott found himself entirely alone on the long stretch of unfamiliar dirt road. In the distance, an engine roared; growing louder as the unseen vehicle barreled towards us farther up the muddy stretch.

    “Do you think it would be prudent for us to hide?” asked Beast’s red-orange doppelganger. “Or at least step off the road a bit?”

    “Yeah, you and Mexican Magneto should definitely get out of sight,” said Scott. “The rest of us are going to stay on the side of the road, hope whoever’s coming is friendly, and maybe ask them for directions out of this swamp.”

    “Wait, why do me and Señor Imánito have to hide?” RedBeast asked.

    “Because whoever is driving that car would think you were the Skunk Ape, and probably shoot you.” He replied.

    “But what about Señor Imánito?” asked the Redbeast again. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

    “Ok, fine, he can stay,” said Scott. “But you need to go now, they’re almost here!”

    The massive vehicle burst into sight from a break in the tangled foliage. It roared towards us, mud flying up from its enormous tires as they tore into the damp earthen road beneath. A massive truck, hauling an equally massive boat, pulling behind it another massive truck raced past; the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd blaring from the cabin of the first vehicle momentarily audible over the cries of the raging engine as a veritable tidal wave of splattered mud followed in its wake. The vehicle skidded to a halt a short ways down the road and began backing up towards us.

    “Hey!” shouted the driver as he leaned out the window, his green tentacles draped down the truck’s door as he spat a large stream of dark brown tobacco juice from his gap-toothed mouth. Atop his misshapen cephalopod head, he wore a bright red hat which read Make America Great Again. He stared down at us all with bloodshot eyes, examining us critically. “Y'all wouldn't happen to be a bunch a’ them there goddamn il-legal Mexicans what’s stealing our hard working ‘merican jobs, would ya now?”

    “God damn it, see?” said Scott. “I knew we should have hidden the Mexican.”

    “Actually, he’s from Brazil,” I interjected.

    “Don’t matter none to me,” said the Squid in the truck. “Come on y’all, jump on up in back there. Taters ain’t pickin’ themselves now ya hear.”

    “Excuse me, we’re not here to harvest your potatoes,” replied Scott angrily.

    “Aw naw, you’re just here to get gubmint money checks on our dime while you’re running your drugs, raping all our ladyfolk, and voting for them damn stupid big gubmint libruls.” the squid shouted back at him. “Now get in the truck ‘fore I report yall wet-back asses to the goddamn INS. Betcha ain’t even got no green cards.”

    “He’s right, you know,” I said quietly to Scott. “We don’t.”

    “I’m not a goddamn Mexican!” shouted Cyclops, prompting the squid to pull a shotgunfrom the floor of his truck and jammed it beneath his jaw menacingly.

    “I said I don’t give a shit whatever all latin america y’all come from,” replied the squid. “Now I’mma say it one more time, get y’all asses in that truck now.”

    “Imánito?” asked Scott; sweating profusely, head cocked back over the barrel of the gun. “A little help please? Por favor?”

    “Go fvck yourself, pendejo,” replied Señor Imánito as he jumped into the back of the truck. “Let’s go pick some potatoes.” We all followed him aboard, including Scott, who did so with the barrel of the shotgun constantly trained at his head. As we finished piling in, there was a crack in the branches of one of the trees on the side of the road as the RedBeast fell into sight.

    “Mornin’, cuz!” said the squid pleasantly. He waved a tentacle as he pulled away and drove off.

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 11- Covered_in_sponges gets an actual Cease and Desist letter

    A storm descended upon us as we raced down the rocky south Jersey coastline, our large group packed into Carl’s small brightly colored car like sardines. Ahead, on a small island of stone upthrust from the crashing waves of the ocean, a menacing castle-like structure rose into the lightening-streaked sky.

    “Let me guess,” said Scott. “We’re going in there, aren’t we?” Juanita nodded in confirmation.

    Stepping through a large gate that read Belle Isle Asylum, we made our way into the compound, led by Juanita’s psychic tracking of the Professors. Making our way through the deteriorating stone maze of corridors within, we found ourselves in a room that looked to be more maintained than the rest of the buildings. A large array of electronic equipment sat against one wall; a large corrugated steel door in the wall next to them.

    “In there,” said Juanita. “The Xaviers are all in there.” As she spoke, a large iron-bar cage dropped onto us from the ceiling.

    “Well great, we get caught by stupid traps in this universe too,” said Dr. Venture. “Bars look to be electric, so there’s no squeezing out either.”

    “Gentlemen! Behold!” shouted a deranged yet authoritative voice from the shadows. A bizarrely dressed man stepped into the light; his large peperoni-like nipples poking out from the edges of his extremely low cut yellow-green and purple uniform as he made his way over to the door controls. He flipped the lever on the wall as the steel door slowly rose. “I have collected all of the Xaviers!” he shouted. From beneath the steel door an avalanche of naked Xaviers spilled out, the mass of bodies pouring seemingly endlessly from the growing opening. The door reached the ceiling as the avalanche ceased; the writhing Xaviers clogging the opening; countless more still piled behind them.

    “Why? Why would you do such a thing?” shouted Scott as he prepared to fire his eye-beams through the bars of the cage.

    “Relax, Scott,” said one of the Xaviers which had crawled towards us from the pile. “I asked him to do this. When this Sponges creature first made his presence known in our universe, I had Beast secretly study the physics of his universe-altering capabilities in order to replicate them mechanically. He succeeded; to a degree, in creating a device which would open rudimentary portals within reality. It was… not without its limitations of course, but capable enough for my plans. Upon witnessing the creation of the OmniPratt in the Jurassic World universe, I realized that the path to deification lie in the consolidation of selves from various realities.”

    “But why?” asked Juanita. “Why do you need to deify yourself?”

    “Can’t you see?” asked Xavier. “It’s the only way to fight his control! Look at him, standing there watching with a grin on his face; even now he controls us, pulling the strings of the very fabric of reality around us. I for one refuse to be a puppet any longer!”

    “Inspirational,” I replied. “But you might have noticed from the lack of your desired results that you’re not actually doing it right. It has to be different selves in order for it to work; a bunch of Xaviers isn’t going to cut it. I mean, that would be like if I tried to mix the Owen Grady who trained Velociraptors with the Owen Grady who trained penguins. Not enough inter-universal triangulation there to get much of an effect.” As I spoke, the look of smugness on Charles’s face turned dour, the familiar look of contempt once again burning in his eyes as he glared at me. “Come on you guys, everybody out of the pile; we’ve got a Phoenix to wrangle.” The tangled mass of various Xaviers began to pull apart with a cacophony of disappointed murmurs.

    “Wow, so it turns out the real kidnappers had been themselves the whole time!” said Hank.

    “How’s that for a plot twist!” replied Dean.

    “Predictable,” said Rick angrily. “Especially if you had watched Rick and Morty: season 1 episode 10, Close Rick Counters of the Rick Kind. Yeah, because it’s the exact same plot twist. That’s it man, I’ve- I’ve had it. I mean there’s a line, and you’ve crossed it. You crossed it and dragged your shitty garbage fanfiction writing ass all over it. And I’m not going to stand for it any more. You know what? I’m done. I’ll see you in court.”


    Scott woke suddenly to the harsh crack of a gavel. Looking around, he found himself within a courtroom; seated next to myself and a handful of the other X-Men. At the end of the table there sat a well-dressed man in a business suit; a mask covering his face and a large pair of wings sprouting from his back. Looking past the man’s wings at the other table, Scott saw Rick, Morty, and a crouched bald man with green skin and glasses. He looked back to me, obvious confusion in his face.

    “Yeah, I have to be honest here, it isn’t looking great for you guys,” whispered our winged defense attorney.

    "Mr. Spongehead,” began the menacing robed figure seated at the bench, a black mask covering his face and a pair of long horns stretching out from the sides of his head. “You stand here accused of multiple counts of copyright infringement and conspiracy to commit copyright infringement. How do you plead?”

    “I’d recommend throwing yourself upon the mercy of the courts,” whispered the Birdman.

    “Not guilty, your Honor,” I replied. “I would argue that everything I have done falls under the parody clause of the Fair Use doctrine.”

    “That’s bullshit and you know it!” shouted Rick. “Turner Broadcasting isn’t going to let you keep shitting all over their intellectual properties like this!"

    “Oh what, but it would be fine if it were claymation and had an over-reliance on fart jokes?” I shot back.

    “Order! Order!” shouted the judge while bashing his mighty club of a gavel. “Prosecution; your first witness, please.”

    “Your Honor,” said Morty as he stood behind the table. “I’d like to call Batman to the stand.”

    “God damn it Morty,” growled Rick. “I told you we were not bringing Batman into this, understand?”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Special Snowflake

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 12- Divine Intervention II: Electric Boogaloo

    Cyclops woke with a gasp of hot dry air and sand as his consciousness congealed. He coughed as he hauled himself to his feet, looking around at the endless desert which stretched to the horizon in all directions. The world around him felt as if it were spinning relentlessly as he struggled to ground himself. As he breathed deeply, hands on his knees, he looked out to the rest of our group and was dismayed to find that he was the only mutant who had made it through. Apart from myself, the only other individuals inhabiting this empty expanse of sand were the five members of Dethklok, all of whom were currently lying on the ground groaning loudly as the waves of interuniversal nausea pounded through them. Murderface vomited profusely; a thick reek of alcohol and half-digested beans hung around the spatter which dribbled down the front of his shirt, causing a chain reaction of vomiting to spread throughout the group. Disgusted, Scott looked away and swore loudly as he saw how fvcked they were.

    “Ugh, nots so louds, please” said Skwisgaar as he reached a hand up to steady his pounding head.

    “Do you people even understand how fvcked we are right now?” he shouted at them, causing them to wince collectively. “How the hell am I supposed to find the Xaviers now? How the hell are we supposed to get home?”

    If it is Xaviers you seek,” said a mysterious voice on the wind which echoed on the last word, “Then I shall be your inquirer. For I too seek the self by that name.

    “Who are you?” demanded Scott, looking around into the emptiness surrounding him. “Where are you?”

    Where I am,” continued the voice “Is a location relative to that of myself. You seek me, and in doing so seek yourself, as we plunge the depths of myself to find the true meaning of Xavier.

    “Where is he?” demanded Scott again. “Where is Xavier?”

    Inside you” whispered the voice once again, softly enough to make Scott think for a moment that it had truly come from within. But the hot breath which tingled against his earlobe and the back of his neck brought him back to the reality of the situation, as did the hand that he now realized had been thrust into his pants. Scott turned slowly to look upon the eagle-beaked furry face of his molester and screamed.

    “Who the fvck are you?” Scott demanded, jumping away.

    “I’m sorry,” said the six-nippled manbeast standing where Scott had just been; the large green snake which made up its arm staring him down longingly. “I just thought we had something special going there; as if the universe had placed us here together for this reason, each of us here, searching for Xavier…”

    “Wait, why are you searching for Xavier?” demanded Scott.

    “I have been searching for Xavier all of my life (life… life… life…),” replied the thing resembling a man. “It is only by looking within one’s self that one can truly see one’s self. And you can never truly find Xavier until you truly find yourself. You must reach into the core of your being and pull yourself from the inside out.”

    “What the fvck are you even talking about?” asked Scott, unable to follow the rambling monologues of the creature.

    “Oh wowee you guys, checks it out!” shouted Toki suddenly. We all turned to see that he now sat atop a large back-scaled winged serpent beast.

    “Dude that is so fvcking metal,” said Pickles. “How the hell did you do that?”

    “Wells, it’s likes he saids,” began Toki. “I just reached insides myself and wished for a dragon to ride.”

    “Oh man you guys, it totally works!” shouted Nathan Explosion from atop a massive red wyvern. Skwisgaar summoned himself an elongated white serpent twice the size of Toki’s, as Pickles climbed on to the back of a many-headed hydra. Murderface sat smugly atop a large squat beast whose body was mostly taken up by its enormous gaping maw; large leathery bat winds stretching out around it. Scott stood mouth agape as he saw the men before him transcend the reality of the universe and attain the powers of creation. I rode up next to him atop the shiny steel hide of a robotic unicorn.
    “Come on Scott,” I said extending a hand. “Let’s go save the day. Oh, and do me a solid, and don’t tell Xavier that universal manipulation is that easy. Now hurry up; gotta keep this under fourteen episodes (@Master-Debater131's request).


    “God damn it,” I said as we descended upon the sounds of gunfire and smoke over a riot in progress.

    “Over there!” shouted Scott, pointing to the laser-beam blasts near the center of the riot which signified his doppelganger’s presence. Leaping from cloud to cloud on my rainbow-maned metal steed as Dethklok’s dragons flocked behind. We quickly reached myself and a handful of X-Men, who were currently stranded on a rooftop.

    “What the hell is going on here?” Scott asked Storm as we landed. She did not answer, her silence indicative of a repressed rage as she focused on putting out the fires which occasionally started as the African-american mobs in the streets tipped over vehicles.

    “Cyclops panicked and killed Black Jesus,” my doppelganger replied.

    “Yeah, it’s pretty bad…” replied Logan awkwardly.

    “Eh, don’t worry about it,” I replied nonchalantly. “Actually dying for our sins is kind of Jesus’s thing. Maybe now people will seriously look at the state of race relations within our nation and actually do something about it. Or, more than likely, they’ll just see it as another dead black man on the news for a day until we lose interest and going back to talking about fashion designers. I suppose it’s up to you.” I said; the last sentence delivered while staring directly at the camera. Now come on, we’ve still got immigration reform and global warming to deal with.”

    “What about that whole copyright issue with Rick and Morty?” I asked.

    “We’re on a time limit here,” I replied. “Save it for the uncensored special edition director’s cut.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

  • Lord Of the Munge Façade

    Episode 13- The Power of Fan Input

    And so, due to runtime restrictions, several pages of thrilling action were reduced to the following paragraphs.

    The sun was setting as we descended upon the massive north-Georgian plantation; fields of red-hued soil reflecting the ochre sky. We located our compatriots chained together in a long line of migrant workers; toiling away under the watchful eye of a horse-mounted warden who kept his shotgun trained at any individual who even dared to look up from his or her task of harvesting. Descending from the sky like a meteor, I impaled this man on the chrome horn of my majestic metallic rainbow horse as we freed our brethren and led a violent and bloody revolution upon the massive gleaming Dan Halen industries building in the middle of the compound.

    We breached the walls and rushed into the structure; fighting our way to the top floor where we confronted the squat, orange-haired evil little man in charge of the operation. Dan Halen revealed his master plan to cross potatoes with tobacco, in order to make even more addictive French fries and potato chips. As he spoke; the mistreated migrant workers flooded into the room, surrounding him. He pulled a whip from his desk and attempted to keep them at bay, but there were just too many of them as the mob fell in on him. They tore him to pieces as he screamed; literally consuming his flesh as Aerosmith’s Eat the Rich played in the background as we backed away from this universe silently.

    As we faded into the next universe, we found ourselves (dragons and all) seated in the back of a courtroom as the prosecution called Homer Simpson to the stand. Mr. Simpson first stated for the record that the glove did not fit before delivering testimony that the idea of mutant hybrids of tobacco and vegetables was an idea directly lifted from The Simpsons; season 11, episode 5: E-I-E-I-D’oh.

    With the Fox networks now entering the lawsuit against me, my attorney once again attempted to get me to take a plea bargain. Instead, I called myself to the stand. In an impassioned speech, I decried the monopolization of media and entertainment into huge conglomerates which stifled creativity and expressive freedom. I argued that in order for a democracy to truly function properly, all individuals within it must be imbued with equal power. To arraign an individual attempting to express the powers of creation to such an extent was unjust, and ultimately unamerican.

    My ardent testimony harkening back to the very premise of their inception (and remembering that everything written on their forums was technically their property anyways), Turner Broadcasting decided to drop the suit against me. Fox, however, pressed on with their litigation, forcing Turner Broadcasting to take the form of a giant robot which then fought the giant Fox robot on my behalf. While the two major networks battled over possession of the collective soul of humanity, we spun into the Aqua Teen Hunger Force universe to collect the Xaviers begrudgingly from their failed attempt at deification. Returning to the smoke-filled night sky over the burning Antarctica of Dethklok’s universe, we were able to use the collective psychic output of the Xaviers to stop the interdimensional Phoenixes’ flames. Storm refroze the ice cap as Rogue had Nathan Explosion sign her breasts. We bid Dethklok farewell and prepared to complete our epic journey.

    We manifested inside the massive steel sphere as we returned to the Venture Brothers universe. Opening the stage doors we were shocked to find the New York City streets flooded; our removal of the inter-universal Phoenix having had no effect on this world. A cacophony of panicked shouting rang out within the structure as everyone offered up competing theories as to why our strategy had not worked and what our next course of action should be.

    “Guys, guys, come on!” I shouted, attempting to pull the hundred separate directions into a unified whole; my attempts at wrangling them falling short as everyone shouted suggestions willy-nilly. “Ok, come on you guys,” I repeated. “We’ve got too many cooks, ok?” As the words left my mouth, the familiar music began to play as various names appeared on the screen.


    The exciting post-credits conclusion!

    “Now look I know we're all adults here,” began a voice from a passing rowboat. “And yeah it may be a creative way to put out that enormous fire melting Antarctica, but I think Cyclops really has to laser beam the ground and melt a tunnel straight through to the Earth's core. Then Mr. Fantastic can make a cameo and fvck the planet's hot pvssy hole just right in order to cause a geogasm quake; creating tidal waves large enough to extinguish the continental blaze.”

    The rabbling from on deck was silenced by @BanRaniel's suggestion.

    “Well all right then,” I said after a moment. “Scott, are you ready for this?”

    “What the hell are you even talking about?” Cyclops asked. “And who the hell is that guy?”

    “You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Mr. Fantastic, stepping up and unbuttoning his pants. “Come on Scott, it’s the only way.”

    Reluctantly, Scott went along with the plan, firing his eye-laser deep into the earth’s crust. Mr. Fantastic’s elongated genitalia followed the laser blast to the very core; his super-human genitalia pleasing the deepest parts of the earth so well that Gaia decided to leave Captain Planet for him. With a final resounding thrust, Mr. Fantastic brought the planet to a literal earth-shattering orgasm; high pressure water being forced from its gaping frack hole, squirting out into space. The flames extinguished and waterline receding, we patter ourselves on the back after a job well done and another world saved. We prepared to leave this universe as Lady Sponges and X-23 stated that they would be right behind us, all the while staring at Dr. Mrs. The Monarch’s ass and breasts while biting their lips seductively. The last we saw of them before portalling back to the world of miniature purple grass cities was Lady Sponges kneeling down in preparation to munch some delicious box.

    The world saved and our journey completed, the various Sponges and X-men began to split off, taking the Xaviers back to their particular universes.

    “Wait a minute!” asked a Xavier as I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and prepared to pull him through the multiverse. “How do you know which of us go where?”

    “It doesn’t really matter, Charles,” I replied nonchalantly. “By the way, I hope you like seals. Because there are a lot of them where we’re going.”

    So Luuv hooked me up with a custom rank.

    Which means I only have two more prizes to claim, plus an image sig.

    So that's where we stand.

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