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This message ManMan hit's the Road - Las Vegas Part Two : The New Proctology Origin Edition! was posted by ManMan on Tuesday, March 12, 2002 at 14:57.
ManMan Hit’s the Road - The New Proctology! Origin Edition.
Bill Wetworth fidgeted nervously in the queue, he’d been waiting for his chance to audition for 4 hours and his time was getting close, only one more applicant and then it would be his turn. He took a deep breath to try and relax, but it didn’t work and strangely made him out of breath. Maybe it was the mask, he thought idly to himself. He adjusted his black cowl making sure he could see as well as breathe. If I’m having trouble with this thing, imagine what the poor buggers with lycra bodysuits are going through. He tried to empathize with the man behind him, wearing a pair of black pantaloons with a blue/black lycra top, he was also sporting a moustache that was obviously used for evil “twiddling”, the man’s jester hat (ornately decorated with glitter and gold stars) only served to enhance his absurdness. Bill noticed the man was also looking at him, upon the recognition, he smiled and greeted him. The jester hat man muttered something in reply that Bill couldn’t hear. “Pardon?” he asked.
“I said…..you…are…a STINKING PEASANT! YOU ALL ARE!” The man cried, spittle erupting from his mouth. “I OWN A CASTLE AND YET I HAVE TO WAIT IN LINE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!!” The man clenched tighter, breathing through his teeth. He pulled Bill close to his face, “I ruled the universe once,” the mans voice barely a whisper in Bill’s ear, “I’ve beaten the Lair Legion, held the UN to ransom and yet…here I am.” His lip started to tremble, he slumped to his knees and threw his hands up in the air. “When O When Lord? When will the world know the name of The THIGHMASTER?”
Silence, then. “Uh…Aren’t you an infomercial?” A voice asked from behind.
TM turned snarling, “How DARE you! I chose my name long before Suzanne Somers came along peddling her leg enhancing filth!” TM stood up, sighed and wished Browning - his loyal servant - were here, but after the ‘universe ruling’ thing, the man had disappeared. So he’d been left on his own, forced to make his own decisions, his own choices and worst of all…his own tea. Finding his own way back in to the criminal empire world was just as tough, but this audition for the Proctology seemed like a good stepping stone before going on to bigger things. He just had to keep it together, no ‘scenes’ like the one he’d just starred in. Breaking his train of thought, he realised The Peasant in front of him was gone, although a black cowl lay on the floor trampled by a dusty footprint. “NEXT!” A voice announced just beyond a door. TM puffed out his chest and strutted on in.
----
Swingy chewed on a pen tip as he considered the applicants the group had reviewed so far, most were hoaxes or tourists wanting to catch a glimpse of real live super villains, others were has-beens, were-beens, and never-will-bes, but a couple stuck in his mind as promising. The man who could stretch his arms and legs and breathe fire through his mouth was - he had to admit - pretty cool, a pity the man teleported away before they could get his details, said something about a tournament…Star-Fish burbled noisily as the next applicant entered. Pudu Lad looked up from behind a clipboard, “Please state your name for the record-” he asked.
The new applicant smiled, “My name is….The Thighmaster!” he announced in expectation. He nodded at the group huddled behind a desk, urging them to remember him. Pudu Lad jotted the name down on his clipboard.
“Riight…” said Swingy not knowing how to reply. “And you saw our ad in the paper?”
“Yes, right here,” The Thighmaster rooted around in his costume before pulling out a newspaper clipping. “‘Wanted: Dastardly people for dastardly deeds.’” He read from it. “I can say with all assurance that I am the most dastardly person you will ever meet.”
“We’ve met some pretty dastardly people…” challenged Swingy.
“I’m more dastardly than ANYONE,” repeated TM.
“We’ve met Baron Zemo…”
“More dastardly,” replied TM, nonchalantly.
“The Yurt…”
“More dastardly.”
“The Apostate…”
“More dastardly…”
“The Hooded Hood…”
“More- Well…” The Thighmaster looked over both his shoulders before continuing. Then he mouthed ‘dastardly’.
“Really? MORE dastardly the THE HOODED HOOD?!?” shouted Swingy.
“Yes! Shh! I mean….” TM sighed - all or nothing. “Yes, I’m more dastardly than the Hooded Hood.”
The Proctology gasped in mixed admiration and fear. They quickly huddled together in conference.
“Burble!”
“Star-Fish is right…” concurred The Living Statement! Before adding, “Cell mitosis, cell mitosis…protein creation, protein creation…”
Swingy glared at the pair. “Hey! I’m leader here. I say who’s in or out…”
“Gentlemen,” interrupted The Thighmaster, “Might I make a suggestion?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “What you clearly need is a leader, a criminal mastermind. You’ve all got talent, it’s obvious to anyone. Swingy, my dear fellow, the burden on you must be enormous, carrying a group on your own….Why did you want to become a criminal? To gain respect? To earn money? Yes, but primarily because you wanted to rob and steal and pillage and plunder! But what happens? You get lumbered with the paperwork, the planning, all the day-to-day boring minutiae that spoils all the fun. Let me help you carry your load, make the decisions while you roll in the fun of it all, or you can dismiss me, and carry on as you have been…”
“Pillage and plunder…?” Swingy wondered out loud. “Ok, you’re in!”
“Excellent…” hissed Thighmaster his fingers steepled together.
----
“Next!” shouted Thighmaster. He smiled at his new comrades either side of him. A collective panic spread throughout the room as the Proctology scrambled to escape from the next applicant.
“It’s spiffy! Run away!” shouted undead Mr Ed.
“Burble!”
Thighmaster sat calmly at the desk. “Ah good, you’ve shown up! I told you didn’t I?” he winked. He turned to appease his men who were trying to boost each other out of a window. “Gentlemen! Please! This is no hero, this is a friend. He’s our first inductee.” The group calmed but were still confused, sensing this, TM introduced him proper. “This is spiffy2! The FIRST spiffy clone!” The faux-fern-wielder nodded slowly in a silent greeting.
----
“Next!” shouted a now hoarse Thighmaster, he was surprised at the turn-out, though most were a waste of his time. Like the one he had just dealt with. “So uh like…am I in?” asked his previous applicant, a lank haired hippy called Dr FeelGood, who claimed by spreading his love throughout the world he was creating the laziest generation of children the world had ever seen. Though TM admired the plan, especially for it‘s scope, he couldn’t see any of his group following through with such an endeavour, especially undead Mr Ed. Turning back to the Dr. “No, NEXT! Means GET THE HELL OUT!” screamed the Thighmaster hoping to pierce the mans buzz.
“Oh…” replied the Doctor, but he just stood in the same spot, gently swaying to some inner rhythm.
The Thighmaster pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head gently as the next applicant entered. TM looked up, and was instantly impressed. The man wore a black crushed velvet bodysuit, the only holes visible were for his eyes and they displayed a cool blue intensity which challenged all who looked into them. “Please state your name-” asked Pudu Lad, his clipboard held at the ready.
“Spleen-Splitter,” replied the man.
TM raised his eyebrows in admiration. “You have a nice costume Mr Splitter, but do you have any powers that would match the quality of your tailor?”
Spleen-Splitter paused and looked to his left, where Dr FeelGood stood. “I can kill him with this…” the man replied, holding out his little finger.
“Excellent….Well, go on…” Urged TM, causing a little unrest between some of his group.
Pudu Lad was the first to speak up. “Uh….Mr Master?”
“Yes?” Thighmaster answered, slightly impatient.
undead Mr Ed. spoke for him. “Y’see, we’re not really into that whole ‘death’ bit. I mean, we’re evil, but we don’t kill. Especially things like that.” The rest nodded in agreement.
TM paused, he hated mutiny, and wanted to slap a couple of the more meekly-minded of his group, but he was new in charge and had yet to receive total loyalty. “Never let it be said that I don’t listen to my men. Mr Splitter, could you….cripple him instead?” He looked at his group for approval, not receiving any, he commuted the Doctors sentence further. “Ok, Ok…Knock him out.”
Spleen-Splitter nodded in compliance, walked over to the hippy, extended his little finger once more and drove it into the mans neck. The Doctor slumped to the floor like a pile of dirty laundry.
“Excellent!” applauded The Thighmaster. “He’s in,” he told Pudu Lad.
“Uh….Ok, Mr Master,” the deer-duplicator replied, and put a tick on the clipboard.
“Well, I think that’s quite enough for today,” Thighmaster concluded. “We now total eight, which is plenty - maybe too plenty - one or two of you might have to shape up to stay in MY gang,” he added casting a glare over some of the older members.
----
One Month Later
The New Proctology sat around a large dining table inside Thighmaster Keep, the residence of the super villain. “Right, it’s time for a monthly review,” announced the group leader. “Are we all here?”
“Pudu Lad is getting Star-Fish from his tank,” replied undead Mr Ed.
Thighmaster dismissed them. “Well, they don’t matter. Let’s get started. First of all, I’d like to congratulate you all on the marvellous progress you’ve made in the past 4 weeks. Spleen-Splitter and spiffy2 should be especially proud of themselves, a couple of you who shall go unnamed will need to follow their example if you’re going to make a ‘bad’ impression on the public,” TM chuckled. “Anywhoo, I’d like to announce this month’s cut-”
“Cut?” asked Swingy, slightly perplexed.
“Yes,” replied TM. “We have to separate the wheat from the chaff…How are we going to rival groups like The Purveyors of Peril unless we do so?”
Pudu Lad entered carrying Star-Fish on a silver tray. “Sorry we’re late,” apologized the teenager.
“Excellent, now we’re all here…” TM said, before grabbing Star-Fish and throwing him - shuriken like - out an open window.
“Hey!” Pudu Lad cried in outrage. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh don’t worry boy,” Thighmaster shushed him. “He’ll be happier with his own kind….In the moat!” he cackled.
----
“Welcome everybody….Is everybody here?”
“No, Pudu Lad is trying to get Mr Ed from the courtyard,” replied Swingy.
“Well…No matter, I’d like to welcome the relevant members of the group to our second monthly review. I must say, all in all, I’ve been pretty damn well chuffed with what you’ve accomplished. Again, Spleen-Splitter and spiffy2 should be commended for their daring raid on that money train last week, which netted me- I mean us, over $500,000! And still the various law enforcement groups around the country have no leads. Swingy, congratulations on the growth you’ve shown…Living Statement!….Excellent….Which brings me to this months cut…”
“Another one?” Swingy asked.
“Of course…You don’t want anyone to hinder our progress…Do you? You are a team player aren’t you?”
“Well….yeah…”
Pudu Lad entered leading Mr Ed by a harness.
“Excellent, they’re here. Mr Ed. Would you mind stepping into that pentagram? Lovely….erutaerc sselesu enogeb!“
A bright light engulfed the undead horse as he started to spin.
“What’s happening?” cried The Living Statement! Before adding, “cell mitosis, protein creation…”
“Oh…nothing…Just a little exorcism…” replied Thighmaster.
“What? You’re killing Mr Ed?!?” cried Pudu Lad.
The horse stopped spinning, the light dimmed and a pile of bones fell to the cobbled stone floor of the dining room. “Of course not, I’m merely just sending him where he should’ve gone many, many years ago…” TM hugged the boy by the shoulder. “He’s with his family now, prancing in the fields with all the mares…Can’t you see he’d be happier there?”
“Well….Maybe…” conceded the deer-duplicator.
“Excellent…my boy…Now why don’t you go and make us some tea…?”
----
“Welcome everybody….Is everybody here?” Asked The Thighmaster.
“Yes! Everybody’s here…cell mitosis…” replied The Living Statement!
“Really? Excellent…First off, well done Swingy! The combined earnings of your recent mugging spree is up to $82! Spleen-Splitter and spiffy2, a wonderful - and successful - kidnapping operation that netted the group over $700,000! We’ll all be able to buy nice things out of the super villain catalogue with that sort of money…..Boy!”
“Yes Mr Master?” replied Pudu Lad, who, over the past few months had gotten used to being The Thighmaster’s personal aide.
“Why don’t you fetch us all some tea?” TM offered.
“Now? In the middle of the meeting?” PL eyed The Living Statement! nervously. The pleading he found on the mans face made the teenager uncomfortable. “Why don’t I-?”
“Why don’t you go and make us all a NICE CUP OF TEA???” TM hissed through his teeth.
“Go boy, it will be easier,” reassured Spleen-Splitter.
“O-oh Kay…” Pudu Lad agreed and stepped quickly out of the dining room.
The Living Statement! looked around him in a fidgeted panic. “cell mitosis….protein distribution…”
“Mr Statement?” Thighmaster began. “You are an incompetent little imbecile who’s only use around here is for the general amusement of all, but recently you’ve become tiring, so do us all a big favour and SHUT-UP?!?!”
Shocked by his outburst, The Living Statement! fell quiet and promptly dropped dead. “Excellent…” sighed the Thighmaster.
----
Pudu Lad sat on his bed, in his own room of the castle and contemplated the past few months, sure, they’d been successful, but the group had become something different to what he joined, something…evil, well…eviller, anyway. And he knew he was next, the monthly review was tomorrow and he didn’t know what to do, making decisions wasn’t something he did often. A thought occurred to him, his brother lived in Las Vegas, maybe…
The deer-duplicator made a decision. “I GOING OUT FOR SOME FRESH AIR!!” he called, before leaping, gazelle-like, on the road to Las Vegas.
----
Nats, spiffy, ManMan and Stacy Gwen had huddled around the teenager as he recalled his story in the hotel of the Golden Lion. “There’s another spiffy clone?? Geez, how many more??” cried an exasperated fern-wielder.
“The Thighmaster’s back…” ManMan mulled over the statement.
“So he killed 3 of your team-mates?” Nats asked, loving a good story.
“No…I…Well…After Star-Fish was thrown into the moat, I went fishing…When Mr Ed was exorcised, I dabbled a little voodoo…”
“But what about The Living Statement!?” asked spiffy.
“Same thing…” replied Pudu Lad. “Though he thinks The Undead Living Statement! is pushing it a bit far…Besides, the first thing he said when he came back was…‘Now I don’t have to concentrate on bodily functions!’”
----
“In other news: The annual Elvis Presley festival begins in Las Vegas tomorrow, proceedings are to be opened by the Mayor and his personal guest, the superhero - ManMan…
*click*
“Excellent..."
The End!
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