Suddenly in the distance there is a flash of blue light, a powerful electrical discharge and the strong small of ozone. An expanding sphere of energy appears and within it is…
El Santo!!!
"Say, aren’t you the mysterious masked wrestler El Santo?
“None other! Destined by fate to hide my identity behind a tight sweaty and …Ahem slightly arousing spandex mask, I’ve also been sent from the recent past into the future to avenge the honor of my people! Prepare to die, freshmouth!”
“Actually that’s Martha Raye your thinking of, I was “Maude” until a supercomputer from the future stuck my head on this cyber-body.”
"Er,…then were you the one always on “Match Game?”
“No, that was Fanny Flagg, she’s the liquid metal Golden Girl that will appear four post from now to avenge my destruction.”
“Oh, well Say, mind getting into that hydraulic press?”
El Santo barely had a chance to catch his breath before he heard a voice booming behind him.
“I kiss you, David Letterman!”
Egads! It was the Turkish guy from the Late Show! El Santo sprinkled some salt on the ground to appease the spirits. The Turkish guy affixed a large blue circle to his crotch. The ping pong match has begun.
Fault!
Double Fault!
Love!
And other tennis terms I don’t know the meaning of!
When the dust settled, El Santo lay panting on the ground, lying in a pool of his own urine.
Alas the Turkish man is no match for the French Rottweiler. The Rottweiler, having just viewed the Turkish man’s victory, belts out his battle-cry, “For me to poop on!”, and tears into the Turkish man.
There is nothing left but a big pile of poop on the Turkish man’s mangled body, and a shit eating grin on the French Rottweiler’s face.
My apologies. Not sure how I ended up posting this in the wrong thread. Personally I suspect either carelessness or ignorance. Please ignore and proceed with the battle.
The French Rottweiler’s coprophagous grin is quickly erased when he sees an annoying rodent strutting by. “Qui êtes-vous?” growls the Rottweiler. “I’m Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all of Mexico! Catch me if you can!” The Rottweiler, stung by the challenge, takes off after Speedy, but unfortunately, while running under the windows of a tall building, a dropped piano lands on him and squashes him flatter than a crêpe. Speedy laughs hysterically. “I showed that french perro! All those frenchman can kiss my nalgas! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!”
Suddenly from the wings comes a tag team. Michael Jackson comes in singing the themesong from the film Ben and releases Ben . At the same moment the half thawed Walt Disney comes in and releases Mickey Mouse.
Suddenly, a Masked Man; wearing a sky-blue costume, a white cowboy hat, & a black mask steps forward.
"There are too many contestants here at one time! " He shouts “The Code of West demands a dramatic, one-on-one confrontation.”
With lightning speed, he whips out his 2 nickel-plated revolvers; & guns down Speedy, Ben, Walt & the Great Gloved One in a blaze of silver bullets!
The Lone Ranger stands alone, triumphant; the Most Powerful Fighter in the World!!
“There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.”
Countess Olivia to Malvolio; William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 5.
While Tonto stands over the dying body of the Lone Ranger he hears a man giving an answer, not asking a question. He turns around to see Alex Trebek, who stabs him in the eye with a Jeopardy buzzer. Trebek rules the world.
This is the most exciting thing I’ve seen since Halley’s Comet collided with the moon.
Alex Trebec is a mighty ruler indeed. Ordaining this, proclaiming that, he holds the world like a pearl in the palm of his hand. Basking in his glory and adoration by the masses, he soon becomes careless (After all, who could be insane enough to take on Alex Trebec?).
During a visit to his local Kwik-E-Mart, Alex nonchalantly bites into a Twinkie, which, had he not been wearing headphones listening to tapes of a new, “more imperial,” Jeopardy! theme, he may have noticed was oddly beeping.
His head explodes in ten-foot flames.
The Midnight Bomber What Bombs At Midnight cackles with mad glee! “Finally! All the space ponies moved over! Now I’m making gravy without the lumps! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time…
…but then again, so did the atomic bomb.” -Charles Sismondo
The midnight bomber calmly sits down and thinks that all is well in his Bomb Hut. However, due to the vast time differences between here and Europe he falls into a deep sleep just as Coldfire shows up and drops a large block of ice on his body.
Coldfire gazes into the distance triumphantly. Somewhere, a woman swoons.
Coming soon to a sig line near you!
Relive the mundane highs, the flaming lows, and the pointless posts in between. Announcing the debut of the best of Mullinator.
Coldfire tiptoes triumphantly through the tulips. Life is good!
But whose shadow is it that suddenly crosses his path? His gaze wanders upward, and he sees, to his horror, the stately figure of beloved singer Celine Dion.
“Allow me to regale you with a little ditty, a love song, commemorating a pair of doomed lovers trapped in a sinking ship,” she purrs.
Before her powerful voice has even finished uttering the first bar, Coldfire’s ears start bleeding profusely, and he falls to the ground (in the process smothering the forgotten Regis Philbin), gasping out his last words, "need … loud … guitars … "
Celine Dion celebrates her victory by exultant vocalizing. Her music fills the surrounding countryside.
But suddenly Celine’s haunting music is drowned out by a couple of men in leather hotpants screaming “RRRRIIIIIIICCCCCOOOOOLLLLLLAAA” from the top of a Swiss mountain. As Celine’s eardrums explode, the men celebrate by downing some Ricola coughdrops and chanting, mystically, “RRRRRIIIICCCCOOOLLLLAAAA”.
Unfortunately, their beaming, partially silent figures are devoured by bounding tigers, as another duo appears. Through the gore, we can see the silouhettes of Siegfried and Roy.
Penn & Teller go on about their business, ruling the world and late-night talk shows. Then, one day, they simply dissappear, as if into thin air. There is not a trace of them anywhere.
Somewhere far away, jealous magician David Copperfield is watching television. As he views a news report about how baffled investiragors have no idea what happened to the two, Copperfield laughs aloud.
“I’d love for you to find out what happened to those two clowns, but a magician never reveals his secrets!”
I HAVE BEEN SMOKE-FREE FOR:
One week, three days, 17 hours, 56 minutes and 25 seconds.
429 cigarettes not smoked, saving $53.74.
Life saved: 1 day, 11 hours, 45 minutes.
“Mr. Copperfield, your wife, Claudia Schiffer, is filing for divorce. Consider yourself served.”
As the sheriff slammed the door, a solitary tear rolled down David Copperfield’s chiseled face.
“I hold the secrets of magic. I am the most powerful man in the world. But that is nothing without a busty supermodel for a wife. Without love, life is not worth living.”
Copperfield ran and took a flying leap out the open window of his spacious penthouse apartment. This time, there were no safety nets to catch him.
Across town, Claudia Schiffer applied makeup to her beautiful face and slipped into a pair of Guess? Jeans, not realizing that she had just inadvertently become the most powerful person in the world.
