Rossman on the Lam (page 4)

Things started off well. I packed everybody into my Exploder (in order to make sure none of them tried to make a run for it and inform the police, or worse, Doctor Doom) and we were off. We made good time and soon found ourselves in the enormous parking deck under the Cat In The Hat 27A lot... Or was that the E.T. 35B lot? Doesn't matter anyway. The point is that I never found my car again (which was a good thing considering I'd been trying to get it stolen for the insurance money for months now!).

So, I shackled everybody together into one large buddy-system, and then we hit the park like a fattie on bucket of honey-barbecue wings and a side of creamed corn. First we simply tried to take everything in. The sights, the sounds, the smells. Well, not so much the smells after Psycho Weasel decided that he needed a 3-Bean, 4-Cheese breakfast burrito before we did anything, but we did enjoy the sights and sounds... Though the noise pollution that emanated from Psycho's pants pretty much drowned out the gleeful squeals of delight that surrounded us (by being loud to our ears and by scattering the frightened children closest to us). Yeah, it really was kinda nasty.

Parents just don't understand.........Will Smith lied to me. Well, not just me, but all of the free world. As soon as I stumbled into gay cowboy land I tried to impress everybody with my mad kid-friendly rappin' skillz. I busted several moves and got jiggy wid it all at the same time. But apparently real gay cowboys (unlike the faggy ones in Mr. Smith's fagtastic movies about giant spider cowboys who love the cock) don't like rap music. Even rap music that discusses the ins and outs of being a gay cowboy.

After everyone got all disgruntled and stuff they began to rough me up in a major way... But keep in mind that getting roughed up by poofters in ten gallon hats mainly means getting your hair mussed up and wrinkles put in your shirt and pants when they anally rape you. It's not near as bad as breaking my beautiful face.

We made a cursory evaluation of the vicinity and chose which rides we wanted to do first. We walked clockwise through the park and found our way through Marvel Island, Retarded Comic Strip Island, Jurassic Dinosaur Island, Ran Out of Ideas Island, and Dr. Suess' Twisted and Scary as Hell Island.

We chose to hit the Marvel Super Island first. All in all it was most definitely the coolest of the 5 themed environments. What with Storm and Rogue patrolling the streets in their skimpy and oh-so-tight spandex just wanting me to feel them up and rub my crotch against them till my love and lust came boiling over the top of my self-contained passion kettle like Mt. Vesuvius blowing the shit out of Pompeii!! GOD!!! YESSSS!!! OH GOD!!!! SAY MY NAME!!!!! SAY MY GODDAMN NAME, BITCH!!!!!!!!! Wolverine and Spider-Man were hanging around too, but their cod-pieces seemed to get tighter as they watched me get beaten up by my super-lady friends, so I just stayed the hell away from them. I doubted that they could help me excape Doom's goons anyway. I mean, between 50,000 superheroes in this world, I don't think that even one has truly ever beaten the real Dr. Doom. Maybe a DoomBot or two, but that's it. That's pretty sad. I mean, sure, my master is one smart cookie and all, but I truly have a problem believing that a fool like the Hulk or a naked Mary Jane Watson could not take him down a peg or two on a bad day. C'mon! I happen to know that if Psycho Weasel had broken wind in Doom's presence, the metal-masked one would have passed out from the evilly concealed fumes. He's just a man. He's got normal weaknesses.

Seriously, why the fuck hasn't anybody ever tried to eliminate the bastard with an attack that would destroy his olfactory senses, or his manhood. Everybody always attempts to blow him up or punch his head into his torso. That's just lazy thinking. See, Doom's problem was always the fact that he thought big. Usually way too big. He never thought small. Soooooo, take baby steps in kicking his ass! Start out by egging his front door and soaping his DoomMobile. Then leave lots of piles of fresh dogcrap in his yard. Blast an airhorn outside his DoomCastle during his favorite TV shows (He loves Smallville for some mongoloid reason), and when he's good and pissed off, and he can't think straight, that's when you confront him and rip the biggest bludger of a gasline (in your shorts) to KO him. Trust me, I've been studying the guy for years, so all you wacky superheroes out there should listen up. Doom's mask isn't meant to come off all that easily, and smells (along with crumbs of food) get stuck in there. Once he's out cold you can either stick his hand in a bucket of warm water, or kill him. It's that friggin' easy.

"If it's that friggin' easy," you say, "Then why haven't you ever dethroned him, Rossman?" Because, asswipe, I usually get caught up in drawing mustaches on his metal face and taking pictures of my dick near his mouth in order to post on the internet for the pleasures of sick fetishists everywhere. I always forget to slit his throat or tie sacks of kittens to his feet and throw him into the crocodile-filled moat.

POW!!!!  SCHWING!!!!In the early hours of our Universal Islands of Adventure Tour the gang and I was/were confronted by one of the evil minions sent by Doom to "Return the Rossman home for a spanking"..... The Green Goblin be his name! Seriously though, don't let his Halloweenie exterior fool you. He's really just a schizo with a squeaky voice in tights. Tell him he looks like Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and at least four of his personalities will begin to cry. That's when you sucker punch him like Captain Murphy of the SeaLab!

After I had him on the ground crying (for me to stop kicking his groin into his skull) I started to feel sorry for the sodder. When he promised that he wouldn't return to Doom to tell him where I was I helped him back to his feet and treated him to a brewskie. Yep, that's right! A brewskie in the middle of a theme park! I mean, how righteous is that?! I got kicked out of a certain rodent themed entertainment fun-land for simply asking for any kind of alcoholic refreshment! I was really starting to like this place.

Find out if I ever avenge Gwen Stacey! Go to PAGE 5 >
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