Unbeknownst to him/her, RuPaul is soon to meet his/her demise. For who happens to be in the neighborhood, but radio host Dr. Laura Schlessinger!
“Your sinful ways are a disgrace to humanity” Dr. L hisses. “On to him, faithful listeners!” Dr. L’s mindless followers dispatch RuPaul by stoning.
Dr. L smiles victoriously. “I remain unconquered! Tomorrow, the world will submit to my morality!”
“He-he-hello”. Dr. L turns toward the sound and her face goes ashen with recognition. The figure advances. Unable to touch her assailent without violating Kosher, a wide eyed and trembling Dr. L begins to backpedal. Terror ruling her brain, she never saw the truck coming. The mysterious figure applies mustache wax to his curly tail and mumbles “Th-th-th-th-that’s all, Folks!”
After all, what is your hosts’ purpose in having a party? Surely not for you to enjoy yourself; if that were their sole purpose, they’d have simply sent champagne and women over to your place by taxi. – P. J. O’Rourke
“Something not kosher around here…”
Porky turns around just in time to see a portly figure dressed in white and the slashing blade of a cleaver.
“A litte wine, a little Itallion seasoning, Bam!!”
Yes, master chef Paul Prudomme has scored another victim!
“WhoooEE!” screams the blood spattered master chef “As much fun to make as it is to eat!”.
The Chef always did have a sweet tooth, a fault he cursed as 1200 Peeps slammed their way down his throat. Sure, they’re sitting in a fat guys colon, but they are now the most powerful <whatever the hell they are> in the world!
Blessed are the Fundamentalists, for they shall inhibit the earth.
*
Dom DeLuise standing on the other side of Chef Prudhomme’s mirror, jumps through the mirror and turns into Captain Chaos grabbing the chef’s plate of spicy shimp, jamabalayas, and etouffee from the falling chef as the 1200 Peeps slam down the fallen gourmets throat. Captain Chaos then cries DaDaDaDa! and sicks 1200 chocolate marshmellow eggs on the Peeps and they annihilate each other with a huge bang.
Dom DeLuise savors his cajun cuisine as the most powerful being in the world.
In this world, you must be oh-so smart, or oh-so pleasant. For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.
Big Dom’s sitting in the kitchen, victorious, as he stuffs his fat face with his cajun creations. Dom hears the double server doors open and close, and he turns his head to inspect. With crawfish tails in his hair and hot sauce in his beard, he utters a just audible gurggle, before a huge bottle of Dom Perignon strikes him in the head. The green bottle grabs the kitchen sprayer and cleans the blood off it’s gold label and says in a really bad French accent, “Next time use champagne instead of wine in your recipe, Lard-ass.”
The Dom Perignon grins triumphantly (as only bottles can do) and surveys the scene. Out of nowhere, he hears a loud BBUUUUUUURRRRP and whirls around just in time to see a dreaded enemy, Barney Gumbel. The bottle hurls itself at the drunken oaf, but Barney catches it. It seems he can preform superhuman feats if alchohol is involved. He pops the top then guzzles it down, with no regard to the intricate flavors. “Serve lightly chilled as an appetizer or with AAAAGGGHHHHH!..” the bottle yells as Barney chugs down it’s life essence.
“Now to go find my good buddy Homer… BBBUURRPP” he says, with the reality just sinking in through the booze that he is now the most Powerful Person in the World.
As Barney stumbles forward looking for Homer who should appear but Mario and Luigi fresh from there latest exploits from the mushroom kingdom!
“Looka Here Luigi it’sa Barney!”
“Yesa if wea killa hima we will be the most powerful men in the worlda!”
With that they both grab a Fire Flower and start chuckin fireballs at him till he’s nothing more than a roasted corpse.
But alas, the Mario Brothers were not long for their exalted station! After receiving a suspicious plumbing call that showed up on his caller ID as “unknown”, Luigi and Mario headed over to relieve a commode of its various feces-related maladies. Well, they actually waited about three months to depart, as is the plumbing custom.
They entered a house which appeared to be nothing more than an abandoned warehouse, and as they knelt down to examine the lone, dusty toilet sitting sadly in the center of the building, they were each greeted with a huge foot up their exposed asses from behind.
Yes, it was none other than B. A. Barrakus, played by the honorable Mister T himself!
“I pity the foo’ who don’t respond promptly to my plumbing call!” said Barrakus as he cruelly disemboweled the mischevious brothers from the inside, shredding their fragile innards like scissors through confetti.
Barrakus removed his blood-soaked feet from the tattered remains of the Italian supermen and looked directly at the camera.
“Don’t do drugs!” he said with a sardonic grin.
“Don’t do drugs? What kind of crazy talk is that?” Brandishing a chainsaw, Hunter S. Thompson (or maybe it’s Uncle Duke, I can’t tell the difference) decapitates Mr. T.
“Somebody get me a bottle of Jack Daniels and a typewriter. Killing has-been 70’s tv stars is thristy work and I need to write this down while I can still remember it.”
His diminutive Vietnamese mate Honey, brings him a glass and his Jack Daniels bottle. Settling into his easy chair he ponders his 2000 presidential campaign. As the most powerful being in the world, he wouldn’t even need a running mate.
He uncorks the bottle and light vapors slowly stream out. The vapors increase in their intensity as the room quickly becomes engulfed in a thick cloud of mustard gas. Uncle Duke struggles out of his chair and falls onto the floor, his lifeless eyes coldly peering up at the gas-masked face of Honey.
“Revenge is best served cold”, she says as she grinds her heel into the face of her nemesis.
In this world, you must be oh-so smart, or oh-so pleasant. For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.
“Elmo like shoes, tee hee”
The beast from Sesame Strip saunters toward Honey, a malicious grin on his fuzzy red countenance…
“Anen’t you cute! I must tickle you!” Exclaims honey, ans she rund toward Elmo Monster, fingers caged in a tickling formation.
“Fifteen dollah! Me kill you long time,” screams Elmo, as he pounces from his vantage point, devouring her from the feet up.
Elmo burps loudly, and scans the skies for Super Grover…
While Elmo is busy looking into the sky for Super Grover he hears this oddly phrased sentence: “Yo homes, you be the one who killed my homegirl?”
“Yeah Elmo did what are you going to do about it wh…”
Before Elmo can even finish his sentence the mysterious man busts out some hype moves and as Elmo is hypnotized by the fancy footwork the mysterious figure takes out two AKs and busts a cap in the little red muppet’s ass.
A haunting victory song is then heard…
“Ice Ice baby chica chica”
Hanging out in his Miami crib with his hoochies, the great white dope Vanilla Ice is enjoying being the most powerful person in the world.
“This time,” he says to himself, “I’m gonna make the most of my 15 minutes. Maybe stretch it to a third of an hour…”
All of a sudden, there’s a knock at the door. Then another. Finally, a third knock. As he is about to head over to see who is there, the door get kicked in, and several well-armed federal agents in riot gear charge in.
Before anyone really knows what’s happening, they grab Vanilla Ice and put him into a car. They immediately ship him off to Cuba, where he was last heard screaming, “I AM NOT ELIAN” right before Castro ordered the firing squad to commence.
Meanwhile, back in Washington DC, Janet Reno is lounging with a Cuban cigar. “How funny,” she says, allowing herself a prideful smile. “I killed the messiah in Waco and all if did was bring me trouble. But I ship a no-talent has-been psuedo-rapper off to a Communist nation and it is this act which makes me THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON IN THE WORLD!!”
Yer pal,
Satan
http://www.raleighmusic.com/board/Images/devil.gif
Still not smoking, but away from my meter!
A tiny finger pushes a big red button, and Reno’s cigar thunderously explodes, turning her skull into fragments of splintered bone and shredded gray matter.
“Egats, Brain! I must have put too much C-4 in that cigar. Sorry.”
“No worries, Pinky. You may have inadvertantly made me the MOST POWERFUL MOUSE IN THE WORLD!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!”
“What do we do now, Brain?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never gotten this far before, Pinky. Any good cartooons on this time of day?”
“Why, yes, there are!”
“Did you say that, Pinky?”
“No, I didn’t, Brain. Naaarf!”
“No, It was me who said it, you little bitch!”
And with that, Mickey Mouse crushes The Brain with a big ass sledge hammer. Then makes Pinky his #1 Ho.
“I’m TIRED of these other companies trying to out Toon Disney! Word. Now where’s my whiskey, bitch?”
“I’m right on it, Master! Narf!”
You say “cheesy” like that’s a BAD thing.
The last thing the two mice (who are, in fact, tiny) hear is “I may be against squeezing the Charmin; but that doesn’t mean I won’t crush the life out of you two *ssholes!”. SQUISH!!!
WHIPPLE RULES!
“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.
Mr. Whipple rested on his couch, finally reaching the pinnacle of power, when an insane, ravenous, and voracious Clara Peller burst in. Her single-minded life’s journey had led her here. Perhaps here, finally, she would find what she needed.
Her orthopedic shoes click-clomped as she ran to the couch, startling mr. whipple.
She quickly tore off his pants, THIS COULD BE THE ONE, she hoped.
Discovring his small, flaccid penis, she bellowed “WHERE’S THE BEEF”, and gnawed it off. Mr. Whipple collapsed in pool of blood, while Clara Peller quickly exited to continue her quest, not concerned that she was now the most powerful person in the world.
i have absolutley no idea who the last two people are…
Realizing that Clara Peller (after a lifetime of having failed to find the beef) is already freakin’ DEAD, Eutychus55 threatens to close this thread and start a new one because it’s becoming too freakin’ long, thus proving that EUTYCHUS55 IS THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON IN THE WORLD !!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!
Sheesh … I’m outa control here …
Saint Eutychus H.M.S.H.
" ‘He is a prince’ , the minstrels sing.
Among men, yes. Among fools he is a king."
Disney Shorts
The Eutychus Papers