Video Game Review: SLAPS n' BEANS

Can't remember the last time I wrote 'bout video games. I don't really play them super often as I did in the oldener and more goldener days of my spring-like youth.

But, I played a game this week that makes me feel like praising it and that game is:

 

Bud Spencer n' Terence Hill: SLAPS AND BEANS!

After the Greatest and Best Actor in Recent History, Bud Spencer, passed away I wrote about him and how much I enjoy watching his and Terence's old films.

(You can read the Bud Spencer article here: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2016/06/great-film-icon-bud-spencer-passes-away.html)

(I've also previously written 'about side scrollin' beat 'em ups once too so let's link there too, why not: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2014/02/the-super-mammal-side-scroller-of-ages.html)

Basically, Slaps and Beans, is merging two things I like together. It is merging the subtle refined tried-and-tested video game genre of Side-Scrollin' Beat-Em Ups with the funnest and maybe most-likeable tag team in film history.

You know when you have the great idea to mix cereals together? You're thinking, well, I like Frosted Flakes and I like Cap'n Crunch ... what would they taste like the same bowl? Or when you mix soft drinks at the self-serve station at a fast food place? I like Coke and I like Fanta .... what would they taste like in the same cup? You know that feeling? For me, this game, feels like that. It's like taking two things I think are wicked and putting them together in what should be buck wicked when it's all said and done.

Before we praise this game, let's first cover some of the history of Licensed video games. Many of which back in the day were not good.


Licensed Games 

Back in the 80s and 90s .... a lot of companies bought the rights to make video game versions of popular brands/shows/movies. We had video game versions of EVERYTHING back in the day and very few of them were any good at all. You want to play Addams Family the video game? It's there. You want to play Home Improvement the video game? It's there, you could have played that in the day. Home Improvement the video game is probably one of the dumbest ones I can think of actually. I would see this in the game store and look at the back of it and go ... "So Tim Allen is shooting a flame thrower at dinosaurs .... did the Japanese people who made this and owned the license to Home Improvement even know what the frig it was?"

No, thanks. What is this?

Maybe I missed some Very Special Episodes of Home Improvement during its run, and I'll admit I'm not a Home Improvement expert ... but I really don't remember Tim Allen fighting dinosaurs on this show? Do you?

I liked a lot of older re-run style shows when I was a kid, and I remember renting one of the most worst of the "License Anything" wave of titles that came out and that one was ... Gilligan's Island the video game. Hahahahaha, just thinking about this makes me laugh. This barely even qualifies as video game, even. You controlled the Skipper whilst a very mentally challenged Gilligan would follow behind you and constantly get lost and you'd have to back track and find him. Ugh. I watched a video of some person beating this mess recently .... and I'm happy at least someone beat NES Gilligan's Island ... I know I didn't even get to the first boss as a kid when I played it.

Why does this even exist for? 

The only nice thing I can say about Gilligan's Island the game is that the Japanese people who made it at least had SOME idea as to what this show was about and I'll give them credit that it does, in some manner, capture the spirit of the show. Ginger is mysteriously missing from the story, though I've read she took her name off anything Gilligan related after the show ended and apparently there was bad blood between Ginger and the rest of the cast. OMG. Either way, Ginger's not the main focus of this article so let's mosey on, shall we?

My point in this section is that the vast variety of mass produced liscenced games ranged from nonsensically-horrendous to sort-of-sensically-bad. Except for ONE. One game, which falls under the "why would you make a game based on this?" category and that's....

... The Three Stooges for Nintendo (crica 1987)!

Yes!

I don't care what anyone says, this game was GOOD. Five year old me used to play this way more often than you'd think a five year old would want to play a game based on characters from the 1930s. It was THEM though, it wasn't like ... okay, uh, here's Moe and he's got a rail gun and Curly is floppin' behind him falling down and you have to uhhhh get Moe to the zombie's lair .... NO! This game was the stooges doin' Stooge shit like from the actual shorts and movies! It captured the spirit of them 100%.

The Stooges had to save an orphanage that the evil bank wanted to close down and to get the money they embarked on various jobs inspired from their vast lore of comedy films. Sometimes that's all you can ask for from a liscened game is that they at the very least capture the essence of what their source material was.

I would not call it a great game by gamery standards but the Stooges game on NES did what it set out to do and that's give homage to the legends of legends and let you have a little bit of fun along the way. I can attest that many of the levels were fun ... Curly eating those crackers was pretty cool complete with audible nyuk-nyuks, the one where they just stand in an alley and hurt each other is good, there was one where you throw pies at sophisticates .... who doesn't like throwing pies at sophisticates? This game was good. Admit it. It was!

.... and we have now figured out why Three Stooges the game worked, and it wasn't because it was the greatest video game or anything like that at all .... but because it rended homage to its source material properly and let us have some good natured fun as we tried to save those poor ol' orphans. 

Now ... with that in mind of what makes a good homage game let's review the Slaps and the Beans!

SLAPS AND BEANS!

Movin', movin'. movin'. mooovin'. Cruisin', Cruisin', Cruisin', Cruuuisin'! 

Now with the criteria established as to what makes a obscure-source-material licensed video game good (1. Capture the Spirit of the Source Material and 2. Be Fun) ... let's see if Slaps n' Beans meets the criterion as such.

I'll give you a hint ... It does.

They capture the spirit of the source material very very well. I've been following on social media the makers of the game's trailers and updates on stuff over the last year or so and I know that they made this as a homage more than anything else. They made this game because they loved these movies growing up. This is definitely not some game where they make a generic side scroller and slap some beans on it and put it to market ... this is a video game made with LOVE!

Graphics-wise it's retro SNES-like style graphics that look very nice. I don't think you can make a side-scroller beat 'em up with anything other than sleek retro graphics ... it wouldn't look right otherwise.

The only one problem I had with this game was it was made for controllers and for co-op. I don't have like consoles and controllers. I have a PC, so I gotta use keyboard and it's klunky at first. One set of keys is for Bud and another set is for Terence and in harder modes you have to control both during fights to win it seems. This game is probably a lot more fun gameplay-wise with two people playing on controllers ... but I still beat it in fairly short time using a keyboard and controlling both Bud and Terence (left hand for player 1 and right hand for player 2) ... so it's not a big deal.

Music-wise, ohhhhh wow, they have the music from the movies which are some of the most catchingest albeit silly tunes ever made. I lost at the Dune Buggy race like 5 times in a row (because I thought you had to RACE BOTH CARS at first, Bud's buggy and Terence's buggy at the same time, but you don't, if you let one fall behind it'll catch up automatically). But I didn't care if I lost at that level like even 100 times because they play the dune buggy song during that level! The dune buggy song is so good!

DUNE BUGGY! YA!

In the jungle level they give you the movin' n' cruisin' song for the entirety of the level ... which will be in my head for a pretty elongated amount of time. I'll be singing this song for the next month in my head I think.

Movin' n' Cruisin'!

Beating up endless thugs to this song is just something you need in your life. You probably don't know it or believe me ... but you do. You need to slap some thugs and bonk some punks on the head whilst this song sweetly carries you through a hot jungle.

Conclusion

Alright so, a Bud Spencer and Terence Hill video game in 2018 .... it's a hard note to hit, that's for sure. Did they hit the mark? I think so, 100%.

This game was born after Bud passed away and the people who made it really made it because they love these movies and wanted to show their love for them. The people who made this game really knew the source material inside and out. It's really a nice homage.

It's on Steam today on sale for like under 20 dollars ... so if you are interested in this, even if you're not familiar with the Bud Spencer and Terence Hill films ... it's under 20 dollars so it's not like it's an arm and leg to play this side scrollah.

As a fan of these films I think the game serves its purpose and then some. I wish there was a few more level to it ... I could have kept playing much longer. Since Bud Spencer and Terence Hill movies are in the Ernest movie range of quantity (there's a good 20 or so of them) you can't cover all the ground in one game though. 

I'm not sure how many people are like me and who's interests of Bud Spencer/Terence Hill and side-scrolling beat-em-ups overlap but I can recommend this game with my whole heart ... because I can tell when a video game was made with passion for the source material and this one was.

More things need video game homages, I think. There's so many things I can think of that need fan-made homages in video game form. I hope this is the beginning of a whole genre of stuff like this.


(EDIT: You don't have to control both characters, I just set up the game wrong when I played. You can play one player and the CPU will control the other character and you can switch between them. I played the whole game controlling both Terence and Bud for no reason ... it was fun though).

No Article for March of 2018

My readership dropped quite a bit over the last years and with the new address to find this blog there's even less hits now ... but since it was never really designed to get clicks or referrals to products or whatever most blogs do .... I don't really care.

Last article I described a writing style as a "Sandbox" style and I think that's what this blog is too. It's a big dumb sand box that I practice writing in. I've experimented with all sorts of styles from Kooky Styles, to Super Professional Styles, to Devil's Advocate Styles, to Dig Outta Hole Styles (dig outs are where you purposely bury yourself with the audience at the start and try to dig out in the middle and hopefully by the end the audience is almost back if not on your side), to Just Relaxingly Writin' 'Bout Things I Like, to Strange Ratings of Things, etc. etc.

At the start, back in like 2011, it was hard for me to do any style of writing and get 1000 words out of it ... now I can choose any topic, even really hard Dig Outs, and get thousands of words out for an article.

Sometimes, I'll get home from work and be like ... "wow, I haven't wrote yet this month" ... and that's how I feel right this second so let's write one of these things, why don't we? We need us a nice ripe topic though, gang. I have a .txt file I write ideas in from time to time. In there right now is the following topics:


1. The Ed McMahon mystery in which everyone remembers him doing Publisher's Clearing House adverts yet no video evidence exist of any of these ever actually happening ... leading experts in the field to declare that Ed McMahon never actually did these commercials and we are all Collectively Mis-Remembering the Past.

2. An In Depther on RamenMan. I'd work this as one of those "Great Moments in Literature" articles I used to do (I think there's 4 of them in the archives).

3. "If Frieza can Change ... Anyone can Change". This would be like a pro-Redemption article trying to show that even the worst of people can change their ways and it would use examples from Dragon Ball Super.


Which one Should We Do

Some of these are good topics. Hmmm. Let's review these topics first and then decide.


1. The Ed McMahon One

This topic is daunting for me because I don't understand how it's true. I don't understand how we all know he did this but there's no evidence that survives which shows him doing it. Here's an article from 2012 on Forbes about it:

The Curious Case of Ed McMahon and the Pubisher's Clearing House (2012)

She covers the topic well enough (so it's not like it's a topic that hasn't been done before) and declares with utmost certainty,

"Ed McMahon never worked for Publishers Clearing House. He was a spokesman for American Family Publishers. McMahon never left the studio to ambush families, and he never held a giant check."

I have trouble with this one because if I close my eyes I can create an uncanny mental image of one Ed McMahon ringing door bells and showing people comically large checks (or cheques in some regions).

I feel like there's more to this topic and it needs more research devoted to it. I think I should cover this, full throttle, and really get my hands dirty and just get to the bottom of this once and for all. How can the image be so crystal clear in my head? How? Can we ALL have created this mis-remembered erroneous memory?

Hmmm, looks like someone HAS gotten to the bottom of this. There's some youtube vids and forum threads on this topic where people have found footage of Ed and the check. In the 1995 Roseanne Halloween Special ... Ed McMahon comes to her door with a comically large check ...

Look it:

For the WORLD to SEE ... ONCE AND FOR ALL!

Thank fucking God, we are not all crazy. Okay, it DID happen. We are not ALL totally crazy and all remember the same false memory. Seeing Ed here with this comidically large check has really put my mind at ease ... but ... it also makes this a pretty concluded topic so I don't think we'll cover it today.

2. The RamenMan One

I cannot tell a lie, I LOVE RamenMan ... it is the perfect mix of super-serious karate and ultra-ridiculous nonsense that I think is so good. It is a 36 episode spin-off of Kinnikuman and it's very good. I really rate Kinnikuman as one of the greatest comedic shows of all time. 

Albeit ...

I can see why it's never been broadcast in most regions... USA, Canada, Europe, (and others) never had translated episodes of the show. Kinnikuman was very out-there, violent, and childish ... even for a fucking cartoon.

I read the comics recently and I really do think the animation company FUCKED it UP by trying to fix it. The animation studio tried to make it more culturally sensitive and just made it outstandingly worse. The comic doesn't have the scenes that really make you cringe in the show. A lot of the dumbest shit they did was in "filler" episodes that didn't appear in the comic. 

Like, the animation studio cut out all references to a character (Kinnikuman's girlfriend) because she had a name based on a Korean dish (Bibimbap) because they deemed having a Korean name as being offensive ... yet they changed the German character to be constantly wearing very stupid t-shirts ... even when he's like at the beach and shit just chilling. Brocken Jr. doesn't do this in the comic.... he doesn't chill out in offensive t-shirts in the comic. One of the regions Kinnikuman will never be shown is Germany .... because they don't dig Brocken Jr. as Germany's representative in the "Super Man Olympics." 

As a spin-off to Kinnikuman, RamenMan's show is about 50% less comedic and deals with far less cultural satire. It's so good, I love it, and I wanna do a "Great Moments in Literature" again ... like a super long one on "Victory" RamenMan but it's a hard topic to do because you have to cover all the blatantly seemingly racial stereotypes before you can fully dive into anything Kinnikuman related. Like, I'd have to do an "In Defense of" article about the Kinnikuman show before I could do a "Great Moments in Literature" one about the Victory man himself the one and only RamenMan-yo.

In order to write a "In Defense of" would take about 2000 words and then to do the "Great Moments in" would be another 2000 words ... this is a BIG BITE to say the least ... I don't think I'm gonna do this topic right now ... maybe I'll do it in like 10,000 words like 5 years from now or something. It's a fun one though because Kinnikuman's about Pro Wrestling and especially Japanese "Pro Resu" so you can work in like a good section on Terry Funk and stuff.

It'll get it done, one day, probably. Not tonight though.

3. The Frieza One

 You know why you're in HELL? It's because you belong there, Frieza.

I'm such a mark for Dragon Ball Super right now, holy shit, and reports say this inter-galactic Royal friggin' Rumble is going to be the last chapter of Dragon Ball ... if so ... I'm sad I guess ... but wow, what a high note to end on.

I was talking about this show a few months ago, and how I thought a 10-man tag team battle royale amongst universes sounded like it was gonna be super cool ... and it is.

This article: (https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2017/05/best-tag-team-finishers.html 

My idea here was a Redemption piece of sort of ... "Hey, everyone can change even like super horrible people" and the jist was if Frieza can then anyone can .... but I don't think we can do this topic just yet.

Look, when it gets down to it... I don't think Frieza can change and even though he's been displaying clues here and there that he's gonna full Face-Turn ... If I were a betting man ... I would not put my money down on that happening. This guy? Forget it .... when the dust settles .... I have a sinking feeling that this little maniac is gonna polish off his back-stabbin' knife and just start stabbing everyone in the darned back. A lot of heels have face-turned on Dragon Ball from Yamcha to Tien to Piccolo to Vegeta to Majin Buu ... but I think Frieza is just one of these dudes who just cannot and will not change his evil ways.

So, I can't do this one because I think in the end there's only like a 40% chance that Frieza actually does a full 180 face-turn. I think there's a 60% chance this effiin' guy full back-stabs Goku in the end. I think that's decently accurately estimated odds there ... only 40/100 chance he face-turns.

We gotta wait and see how the Tournament of Power (10 man tag team inter dimensional Battle Royale of the Ages) concludes before we can do this topic.

Conclusion

Looks like there won't be an article for the month of March....

We can't do Ed McMahon because that mystery is SOLVED with a big CASE CLOSED stamped on it (finally).

We can't do the Victory RamenMan one because that's gonna be like a 15,000 worder that one. It's a lot of topic that one. Too much for a lazy afternoon.

We can't do the Frieza one because, I'm telling you, that guy is gonna be stabbin' backs by the end of the Royal Rumble, man. He's gonna be back stabbin' backs. The guy CANNOT CANNOT change and I know that.

So I guess we won't be doing one this month because the 3 topic candidates are all not do-able really.

2nd Annual Twitter Awards

Almost a year ago I wrote about Twitter Feeds that I think are entertaining. I gave out three awards: a Bronze, a Silver, and a Gold.

I'm gonna do it again. Why? Well, because it is Sunday night and I am bored ... but also ... with the Olympics on it reminded me that I handed out medals for tweeting once in this blog ... so let's do that again ... why not?

I'm not really into the political end of Twitter too much which can be a mine field of difficulty to navigate through, so my awards, like last year, are for ENTERTAINING feeds only.

To qualify you need two things:
 
A) Be Entertaining
B) Have Good Reach

Reach just means that you're famous, basically. I think there's funny people on Twitter at times but they are not Omni-Famous enough to include in an Awards article.

Last year the Medals went to:

BRONZE MEDAL: George Wallace
SILVER MEDAL: The Iron Sheik
GOLD MEDAL: Mr. T


You can read last year's Twitter Awards: Here


I have it narrowed down to Five Finalists for this year's awards, the finalists are in no particular order:

Mr. T (Incumbent Champion)
Iron Sheik 
George Wallace
Norm MacDonald
Jose Canseco


Runners Up

Canseco, Jose

Alright so our first runner-up, in Fifth place, is Jose Canseco ... who I worked into the article last year but did not earn a medal. This year, again, he's in the article but not in the medal seeds. Jose Canseco had some ups and downs on the twitter box this season.

He had some funny tweets during the World Series but his year was memorable more so due to a FIRE STORM of negative publicity over a joke he wrote.

I saw the tweets, and personally, I didn't find them to be that bad. They were OBVIOUSLY jokes ...and I actually find it scary that some dumb joke someone writes can lead to 100 negative articles in the press (within an HOUR of the person writing the joke) ... and people can end up losing their job (he lost his media job he had with the A's).

The jokes were some things along the lines of (paraphrased):

"Hey, I've been felt up and harassed by like hundreds of women and I didn't care ..."

" All these guys getting in trouble with women are all butt ugly politicians. I think women are racist against ugly dudes..."

There was NO QUESTION that these statements should be filed under the Joke Column. These are legit jokes. If you read things like that and take it 100% serious ... you're probably taking life too seriously. When you read things on the internet ... just ask a few questions before freaking out ... ask "is this a joke?" or "should I take this seriously?"

If the statements appear to be a joke ... then give it a pass ... and save your outrage for the next thing that comes into your feed, okay?

These Canseco tweets were definitely oozing with machismo and I can see how, in the times we live in right now, how they brewed up a storm of indignation ... but in the end it's easy to see these were jokes.

Alright, let's move on to the next runner up,

...The Iron Sheik.

Sheik, Iron

Sheik, strolls in at fourth this year, down from his stellar Silver from last year. He had some good offerings this year including top notch tweets such as...

"Yeah, sex is cool .... but have you ever broken somebody's neck?"

...amongst other prime offerings.

I kind of gave Sheik the Silver as more of a Life Time Achievement Award last year. He's been hammering the twitter box for a decade now and needed recognition. Pound for pound, and all things considered, Iron Sheik is the greatest tweeter of all time ... but as for this year he clamped down 4th place overall.

Another wrestler who almost made it on here was the highly controversial tweeter and former wrestling super star Virgil ... who is freakin' hilarious at twitter but I understand how that feed could offend people. Virgil's current shtick is that he's poor. No joke, that's his whole persona now, his whole gimmick is that he's a poor man. Virgil will tweet about how much he likes free bread sticks at Olive Garden or how flummoxed he was that the sleeping bag repairman wanted eight dollars to fix the zipper on his favorite sleeping bag. It's .... not for everyone.

WWF LEGEND!

Like Canseco's feed though, I get that the Virgil feed is a joke, y'know? I understand in real life Virgil isn't asking women to buy him Olive Garden pasta, or asking his alleged estranged bastard sons to send him thirty dollars and a few Stouffers frozen lasagnas, or doing any of these absurd things. I know Virgil is doing an act ... and yes it is sort of offensive ... but in the end it's just an act.

I've heard in interviews that even in his wrestling days the "Virgil" character was the most hated heel in history in the eyes of African American wrestling fans. Virgil in interviews has said, if he was wrestling a venue in the 80s/90s which was in a prominently African American town  ... he'd just be pelted with garbage from start to finish. African American wrestling fans HATED Virgil more than any other wrestler in history.

So, even though the feed is legit funny, Virgil misses out on even the making the Top 10 of tweeters, because although the act is god damn hilarious ... it's a little raw. On top of it all, Virgil doesn't meet the "reach" standards either as he's not really Omni-Famous or even Super-Famous, really.

The guy even lost his blue check mark last month or so. I was following what led up to him losing his blue check mark. It was sooooooo freaking funny. There was some mix up or confusion over twitter feeds in which some people in jolly old England seemed to think the "at real virgil" feed was for some footballer guy ... and oh my gosh ... confusion was so abounds. It was just so much confusion ... oh my. He didn't do anything wrong though. It was just a simple mix up is all, mateys. It was all but a simple mix up, mateys.

Ok so, Jose Canseco and the Iron Sheik are our runners up this year. LET'S GET TO THE REAL MEDAL PODIUM NOW!



Twitter Awards Portion of this Article

BRONZE MEDAL: Mr. T

Entertainment Genre: Helluva Tough
Favorite "Feud": N/A

The Man is No Stranger to Ice

Last year's Gold Medalist, Mr. T, is on the medal podium again this year in the Bronze position. Mr. T has taken a genuine interest in Curling of late, and from this recent CBC article and interview with him, it's not a lark ... the guy is into Curling ... big time.

See:

http://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/as-it-happens-friday-edition-1.4538952/controlled-mayhem-mr-t-talks-about-his-love-of-curling-on-as-it-happens-1.4539621

This Curling fad isn't going away and someone's gotta harness this wild goat known as Curling and really make something with it. I really think that if you put together the modest success of Mixed Curling (co-eds) at the Olympics with all the celebrities tweeting about Curling ... you'd be on to something ... and that something is ... Celebrity Mixed Curling. If you could even see how good this show is as it plays out in my thoughts/hopes/dreams ... you'd freak. Celebrity Mixed Curling (One Male Celeb + One Female Celeb teams participating in a round robin Tournament of Champions) would be a SMASH HIT ... believe me!

I mean, celebs tweeting about Curling is not limited to Mr. T either ... I've seen many (although probably 60% are from Canada) ... so if a network is serious about Celebrity Mixed Curling ... don't hesitate ... this fad won't last forever ... get that good stuff on the AIR. I'd watch EVERY SECOND OF IT.

It's fun. It's like Tactical Ice Bowling or Cold Bocce Ball or maybe Ice Stone Chess. If you add celebrities to this Curling business ... forget about it ... It'd be such good TV.

Just picture Mr. T with a Celebrity Mixed Curling Trophy .... I know it sounds like it doesn't make sense ... but it does. It truly does. Trust me.



SILVER MEDAL: Norm MacDonald

Entertainment Genre: Sand Box
Favorite "Feud": w/ Margaret Atwood (runner up: Joyce Carol Oates)

Iconic Novelist Norm MacDonald's feed is hard to pigeon hole into a genre ... I really think he looks at Twitter as a big sand box to test out writing ... or to narrate golf ... or to spin odd yarns ... or to wax nostalgic about memories past. Sometimes he'll just delete his whole feed and start again akin to messing up the sand in the sand box and starting fresh.

He writes short stories at times, which are pretty good. He detailed a pretty interesting and entertaining romanticized version of Quebec's History from 1960 to 1980 a few months ago which is not really standard fare for the tweeting sphere but it was pretty good and interesting.

This guy knows stuff. When David Letterman was on Norm's podcast, Dave said Norm is like the most clever guy around. Dave is right ... he is pretty smart this guy. He got to the million dollar question on Celebrity Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, even.

His "feuds" on the platform aren't standard fare either ... I mean he doesn't go after easy targets or jabronies ... he critiques literary icons. He doesn't do it often, but he'll lay a critique down on Joyce Carol Oates or somebody in a blue moon. He can be blunt with his literary critiques at times. Recently he referred to Margaret Atwood's prose as being of the "sweaty" variety. Margaret Atwood, creator of the hit show The Handmaid's Tale is a very good writer and an Iconic Novelist herself ... but Norm might be right ... I mean, there is a hint of sweatiness to her prose ... there really is. It cannot be denied.

Now before we get ahead of ourselves here reader, yes both names in his feuds list above are female ... but that's not to suggest he has an issue with female writers. Norm is on record, many times, stating that the great Alice Munro is his favorite author. So, his critiques of Joyce Carol Oates and of Margaret Atwood are purely critiques of writing only ... nothing more and nothing less.

Norm MacDonald has stated that his second novel is on the horizon which many a literature enthusiast is surely looking forward to. There's only so many humans on earth who can be regarded as Iconic Novelists and he is definitely one of them.


GOLD MEDAL: George Wallace
Entertainment Genre: Comedy
Favorite "Feud": N/A

Mr. Wallace's wide ranging humorous tweets as well as his exceptional feud with Charles in Charge star Scott Baio landed him the Bronze last twitter season ... but this year he's leap frogged into the pole position. Why? It's hard to explain but this man just has the format DOWN.

Twitter is a medium of short burst information snippets. It's actually a hard medium to be funny on. The reason I think George Wallace has it down is that his persona and his familiarity come across in his tweets. I really think he's mastered the medium of writing short text messages in hopes of creating humor in the twitter format.

It's hard to build rapport with an audience in any format ... but limited to just pushing keys on a keyboard and making strings of words which are read by people on their computer screens or phones ... it's very very hard to create that rapport. You need a pre-existing character that everyone knows (so they can read the text in the voice of that character) and you need some sort of familiarity with the audience.

Since he's a famous stand up comedian the audience reads the jokes in his voice and through the use of exhaustive leitmotifs and signature finishers ... he has that familiarity with the audience. You know in 85% of his tweets that you're gonna get a whatnot ... you know he's gonna get a whatnot in there somewhere.

I think I know what's so good about "whatnot" ... I've figured it out. I used to end all of my sentences with "....and shit" because I really believed that any sentence in the english language is improved if it ends with "....and shit."

I'd put that on like anything ....

"I'm going to the store ... and shit"
"You need something at the store? I'm gonna go down there ... and shit"
 "Hey dere, I'm gonna head on down to that store dere, ya want some smokes and shit?"
"Oh hello, I haven't seen you in a while, how's it goin' and shit?"

Every sentence in english is a better sentence if it ends with "and shit" ... but you can't use it 100% of the time. Like, you can't be with your Grandma and be like "Oh, hey grandma this is a pretty good chicken sandwich and shit!" ... you can't say that ... there's times where you can't work with "and shit" ... so what's the SECOND best word to end sentences with if you have to omit "and shit?"


It is "and whatnot." It is. It really really is. Look:

"I'm going to the store ... and whatnot"
"You need something at the store? I'm gonna go down there ... and whatnot"
 "Hey dere, I'm gonna head on down to that store dere, ya want some smokes and whatnot?"
"Oh hello, I haven't seen you in a while, how's it goin' and whatnot?"

See? If you've over done "and shit" or you can't use "and shit" because your grandma is there or you're working in like customer service or some shit and whatnot .... switch out "shit" for "whatnot" and it is almost a seamless transition. It really is, right after "and shit",  I think "and whatnot" is the best thing to flow off a sentence with.

 Let's take a sample George Wallace tweet now:

This guy has it DOWN. Reader, if you're not big on social media and think things like, "hmmm, I don't know how to tweet good and am scared to engage in social media because I am not sure how to present my words in text in a humorous and light hearted way that shows my relevant familiarity with my fellow humans of earth ..."

... Don't fret. Just read a bunch of the George Wallace tweets and you'll learn because that's how you do it. He's got it down, 100%. One Hundred and Ten Per Cent .... and whatnot.

I'm not the only one who thinks he's the Gold Medalist at Twitter either ... in that Bird tweet ... famous director Jordan Peele refers to Wallace as the "King of Twitter" .... so don't just take my word for it.




That's it for this year's Twitter Medals. We're February ... next February ... 2019 ... I'll try and remember to do an annual Twitter Awards again.

Short Story Part 3: The Swamp Finale

I wrote a dusty ol' swamp story a few weeks ago to try and train my fiction writing ability. It was okay. I kept it going with a sequel and now let's round it out with the Conclusion of ... The Swamp Trilogy.

This final installment shall be narrated by Reggie and the reader shall finally, once and for all, find out why there's so many god damned swampity monsters in that dusty ol' swamp.

Okay, let's begin....



1

Don't die on me, Jake. Don't die on me, Soul Brotha! You always thought it was your fault that those swampy monsters made it to our home. I even probably played a hand or two in convincing you of that ... but I was wrong. Those swamp monsters coulda followed anyone of us back ... it was just the tides of the rivers of fate that dictated it was you.

You can't die on me, Jake.

"Stay awake! Don't let go!" I implored to Jake with all my heart.

"Lady Luck just wasn't on my side today daddy-o .... I'm sorry Reg .... but it's my time," Jake responded as he gasped for breath.

"You 'aint gonna die, brotha, YOU 'AINT GONNA DIE ON ME!" I yelled.

I was scared. Jake risked his life to infiltrate the monsters underground lair ... he found their dark clandestined secrets and made it out of there alive to bring that information back to us. Those things musta caught on to him just as he was making his way out. Those monsters hit him in the leg with some kind of makeshift swamp-monster bodkin during his escape. When I found Jake ... he was covered in blood, bleeding out something fierce, he musta lost a boat load 'o blood making his way outta there.

"Hey, Reg ... you remember the day we met?" He asked.

"Ya .... man .... I do."



2


I met Jake in the Desert. That dusty ol' Desert where they had that eatery run by that nice Spanish lady. He helped me out that day, he most certainly did.

Me and Mama, Moms Yeager everyone called her ... she was my birthright mama though related by blood so I called her Mama instead of Moms ... it was just me and her in that Desert looking for a town or something. We were headin' west in search of better economic opportunities but half way through that Desert we both knew it was a mistake and we shoulda just stayed in our hometown.

Mama came down with some sunstroke or some kinda affliction because she caught the vapors, daddy-o, she caught the vapors something heavy out there ... and we were not even half the way through that dustily desert, man.

I had no choice but to hoist Mama on to my back and carry her the rest of the ways yonder, and outta that Desert.

"Don't worry, Mama, we'll make it outta here ... I promise."

There was no water in that sonnofa desert and I knew I was lying to her. We were gonna die there, right there in that stupid arid deserted Desert. We sure were.

A big sand bear stepped in front of my path. Funny how that works, huh? You know that feelin'? Like thangs get worse ... but they get so much more worser ... that they get better? It's funny ... but that's what it was. Not only was I dyin' o' thirst with my dyin' starvin' Mama on my back ... but now a hungry sand bear wanted to rip me up and gobble us up, daddy-o, 'aint that some shit?

"GROOOOOWL," the sand bear scowled.

"What is it, son?" said Moms Yeager.

"Oh 'aint nuthin' Mama .... just get some rest ... close your eyes." I assured her.

"Okay ...." she said.

I couldn't put her down to fight this thing or the bear would go for her ... the easy target first ... and then me. So I kept Mama on my back as I put my dukes up to wrassle this dusty ol' sandy bear. A minute ago ... for sure I thought I was dead .... but this sand bear got the andrenaline pumpin' inside of me something wild, baby, woooooooooooo!

"Come on! You want to make a meal outta my Mama ya dusty dusty sand varmint? Rightly first you best be makin' a meal outta me! But lemme tell ya .... I 'aint no push over, daddy-o, now whaddya say ya Sand Bear? You wanna do a few rounds of Dusty Desert Dancin' with yours truly?" I egged the Bear on.

The Bear raised his gigantic paws and they came crashing down on my head! It was funny again ... things got even worse but still more better as they worsened. Ya, I was now bleeding and half unconscious but I could feel it, dude! I COULD FEEL IT IN MY BONES! OW!

The bear came crashin' down with his paws on my head again ... but I quickly put my right hand under his sandy crotch, and then my left hand on his sandy back ... and all the while with my mama clung to my back .... I PICKED UP THE BEAR AND STARTED RUNNIN' AT FULL SPEED, DADDY-O!

"GRAAAAHAHAHHGGHGHGHA!" The Sand Bear yelled, it sounded surprised n' angry like a stupid idiot!

"You wanted to do some dusty desert dancin' bear! Now get ready for my ultra-TANGO, daddy-o!" I yelled.

I had the bear vertical now, his head pointing downward to the sandy ground ... all the while with my Mama on my back clinging for life .... I kept runnin' at full speed and then uncorked my Devastation Power Slam! KAPLAM! I landed on top of the sand bear!

It was out cold ....

"What was that, son?" asked Moms Yeager ... about 95% incoherently due to hunger and thirst.

"Just some dopey bear, Mama, gave me my second wind somethin' hot though ... I think I'm ready to walk again ... and get us outta this stupid desert...." I answered.

Just then I saw him, another traveler, walking parallel to me.

"Some Bear fight, man, nice Power Slam." He said to me.

"Thanks, man. Say, me and my Mama is pretty parched n' dry, daddy-o, you wouldn't happen to have any extra supplies in your gunny sack do ya?" I asked him.

"Sure do. Got some water n' dry rations to spare. Here take 'em .... you look pretty tired too ... maybe I could carry that nice ol' lady for a stretch, whaddya say?" Said the traveler.

".... Thanks, man." I said to him ... almost in tears ... but I kept 'em back.

"Name's Jake." He told me.

"My name's Reggie." I told him.

.... and that's how I met ol' Jake.



3

"I'm bringing ya back to town, Jake." I told him. He was almost unconscious.

"There 'aint no time, Reg. Those swamp monsters are planning their Final Attack, If you don't take this fool proof strategem I devised whilst incognito in their lair ... and carry it out post-haste ... all shall be lost, man." He told me.

"It's gonna hafta wait, Soul Brotha, you carried my Mama outta that Desert and into that dusty town with that restaurant run by that pretty Spanish lady ... now it's time for me to carry you." I said to 'em.

I took off my shirt and used it to as a make shift tourniquet to stop-gap his excessive bleedin' and then put 'em on my back and ran to our best motor boat and brought him back to town.

"JAKE! IS HE OKAY!?" Yelled Huang Si as I revved the boat into the swamp.

"He needs fixin', H-Si, get 'em to Gertie so she can patch 'im up." I told him.

"Where ya goin, Reg!?" Huang Si queried of me.

"I gotta go carry out Jake's plan ... there's no time! It's now or nevva, baby!"

I trusted Jake with Huang Si and one-eightied my motor boat back towards the swampity monsters slimey lair. I picked up the handwritten Plan that Jake entrusted to me. The Plan he devised under the cover of disguise as he lived for days in the swamp lair in disguise as a grimey briney swamp monsta.

I read the first three verses of the Plan.

"Those swamp monsters are smarter than they look. They might be aliens or government mega-soldiers. Whatever they are they 'aint no run-in-the-mill Swampity Monstas, daddy-o, no sirreee. Their leader has learned how to trick us. He/She/It can speak to us in human speak and is evolving and getting more smarts by the day. It wants us all dead .... the swamp monsters want all us humans to die so they can bring about a swampity monsterous revolution of immense proportions. We must stop them now! Whoever is readin' this ... this is what you gotta do .. you ready?"

I kept readin' it....

"Numero Uno: I left my disguise behind a rock to the northeast of their lair. You can recognize the rock formation cuz it looks like the Graceland swimmin' pool. It looks like a guitar sorta, daddy-o.

Numero Dos: They can only HEAR well ... these thangs don't smell good ... and sight-wise they are pretty dumb. They won't give you a hard time whilst in costume. It's a buncha slimey silver fish I strung together with chains .... and the hat is a lobster ... you gotta put the lobster on yer head. Now that you're in total incognito ... make your way to the lowest center of the lair ... that's where the smart monster is. And WATCH OUT ... Gertie if you're reading this then disregard Numero Three, but if a male is readin' this then read Numero Three (see under)....

Numero Three: The leader has taken the form of a HOT SWAMPY MERMAID LADY! AND SHE LOOKS PRETTY HOT! SO WATCH OUT! She will try to seduce you with her tendrils and the shape of her watta. You can't fall for her wiles cuz she's as evil as hell, daddy-o! Don't let her fool ya!

There was a few more verses but I'll save 'em for later. Right now I gotta get into that lair and down to the center ... and confront this .... this .... this ...

 Hot Lady Mermaid Swampity Monsta?????



4

I found that "Graceland" rock formation Jake wrote 'bout in the Plan .... it didn't look like a guitar that much but the disguise was behind it as the Plan indicated. A buncha silver fish chained together like some kind of briney slime coat and a lobster that I was supposed to put on my head as a lobsta hat. It was still alive too.

I decked on the gear and became fully under-the-cover of clever guise. It was now time to beguile these swampy monsters, infiltrate their briney lair, and fight their trickster mermaid. Not a fraction of a moment's time was a lotted to waste. It was time to make haste!

I made my way past the lair's monster guards. They were none-the-wiser for alas I was incognito as shit, baby. Next I made my way down the cavernous slime lair. It was like a brine fest ... just a buncha hunka dirty fishy monsters doin' their thang like bein' slimey and gross and everything.

I got as down as I could get in that stinky lair ... and then the smell changed. It changed into something that smelled good! I looked through the doorway to the next room, a doorway with green arches, an intimidating doorway to say the least, daddy-o.

In that fine-smelling room was a SEXY FISH LADY! WHAT THE HECK? Jake was right, the leader took the form of a fish lady! Like a green/blue lady with gills n' tendrils. I got scared, and hot-unda-da-collar at that sight. I looked at the rest of the Plan....

"Numero Quatro, Daddy-O: While that swampy seductress was trying to lure me with her wiles so she could bite my head loose ... she backed away and ended her advances on me when she accidentally rubbed up against my gunny sack ... and contents of potato chips spilled out and she FREAKED. She started screamin' "SALT! SALT" and flailin' her tendrils about like a crazy son of a sailor!"

What the shit? I wondered. So I kept readin' Jake's Plan.

"Numero Ultimato: It's salt, daddy-o. It's salt. I left my gunny sack under a rock that kinda looks like a pear or like a stumpy banana. I got another bag of potater chips in that gunny sack. Throw it on her! Then, I dunno, if she doesn't die ... then I dunno ....

That's it. He wrote the last paragraph in his own blood. That Jake was a real man-of-gutso, something fierce. I hope Gertie patched him up right quick back at the swamp. He left me in the doledrums with the finisher to this Plan though, man. If the salt attack don't kill the swamp witch thing ... then what do I do, daddy-o?

What do I do, daddy-o?



5

"Hsssssssss, Come closer to me, Human, I want to see who is trying to enter my bed chambers at this late hour," The Swamp Monster Mermaid Leader Witch thing said to me.

Her skin was slimey and green n' blue ... but Jake was right she was pretty sexy.

"It's just me, Reggie." I said.

"Ooooooooh, Reggie, what nice name for a human, hisssssssss" she sexily said as she rubbed her sultry shoulders against me.

"Uhhh, now listen, lady, your army of swampy monsters has been wreckin' up a stew in the home that I love ... and I must ask you to put an end to these shenanigans or ...." I answered her.

"Or what, hiiiiissssss, you'll punish me? Mmmhmhmhmhmhm, Human,that sounds utterly delightful", she again sexily stated whilst her tendrils massaged my ears.

"Yo, like seriously, I 'aint playin'! I don't wanna have no sex with you! I want you and your ilk to leave my swamp ALONE!" I tried to resist but her tendrils and voice was sexy as sin, is what it was.

"Would you like to know the Shape of My Water, human?" She asked me as her sensual tendrils made their way down my neck.

"Shape of your Water? I don't wanna see the Shape of Your NOTHING lady!!!" I retorted to her.

At that point I reached my wit's end! This swampy harpee could never seduce me! My Soul Brotha almost bled to death over this nonsensery! I pulled out Jake's gunny sack, removed the bag of potater chips from it, ripped it open, and threw all the SALTY CHIPS all over her pretty fishy face!

"HISSISISISSSSSSSSSSSSS! AAAAAAAAAH! SALT! SALT!" The monster quivered and shook like a hunka hunka dirty briney shrimps in a bucket!

She, I mean it, started to lose its sexy exterior and under that clever guise was something so sickenin' I almost PUKED. She ... I mean It ... looked like a sack of fish chum feed after roastin' up in a hot swamp sun! She looked simply TERRIBLE!

"BRAAAAAAAAAAGHGHGHGHGHG!" The Monster Leader croaked and graggled at me all monstrosity-like.

"I'm sorry lady .... but this honeymoon is over. You 'aint even a lady at all. You are an evil swamp monster who wants to kill my friends and family ... and this ENDS NOW!" I declared with the undying vigor of one hundred champions.

It was time to tango....



6

"BRAGAGHGHGHGHG! HIIISSSSS! HUSSSS!!!! BLARGH!!!"

The monster charged at me with the intensity of a wild untamed stallion. I got the jump on it though and fastened it tightly in an arm bar.

"BRAHAHAHGGHG! HISSSSSS!"

"Looks to me you can't speak human in your final form, eh monster!? Don't matter none. I know what the words ouch and oh shit let me go mean through your slimey body language!" I told it as I increased the pressure on the arm lock ... whilst tendrils and scales snapped and broke off of the monster like cheap department store peanut brittle.

Just then it used its lowest tendril, which was probably the thang's damned penis for all I knew, to flip itself vertically ... which transferred the pressure I was applying to its arm over to my own!

"AW HELL TO NAW! DAMNIT MONSTA!" I said to it.

I tried to wriggle out of this reversed-arm-bar but could not .... so I started to think of my free arm and what it could do ... rightly then I dragged the monster towards me with my locked arm and right into my free arm ... with a stunning Short Arm Clothesline!

"BLAAAAGHH!"

It was surely in pain as it reacted with gurgles and screamin' to my Short Arm Clotheline! I broke my arm free and helped the monster to the ground. Whilst it lay prone ... I dropped the Atomic Elbow on it!

"RAAAAAAAAAUGHGHGHGHGH!" It yelled.

"Let's finish this, daddy-o!" I declared with a reverence of One Thousand Champions.

I picked it back up and Irish Whipped it into the cavern walls ... they were so slimey and gunky that it bounced right off of the wall and its energy propelled it back towards me. I knew rightly then it was once again time for my patented Devastation Power Slam ... the Monster's momentum of it running towards me would output so much more energy into the devastationess of my finishing move. It was now or never!

"Blaaaaaaurghghg???"

"DEVASTATION!"


"POWER!"

"SLAM !!"

I uncorked the devastation of my patented slam and the monster was no more. I poured more salt and chips on it until it dissolved into the salts of the earth like a slug.

(My theme music Get on Up by James Brown started slowly playing as I exited the lair)

The minor monsters and lesser fishes scattered and escaped into the darkness of night. The lair had no trace of swamp monster left in it as I exited back into the better-smelling reality of the outside world.

I walked back to my beloved swamp as my theme music got louder and louder which each subsequent step. 

..... It was finally over.



7


"Hey Reggie! Why ya lookin' so happy for ya slimey son of a sailor!?" Mama said to me as I approached the Swamp.

"Jake's Plan worked Mama .... those swampity monstas are GONE!" I victoriously told her.

"That's great .... Soul Brotha," someone said to me from behind. I thought it was Huang Si but when I turned around .... it wasn't H-Si. It was Jake!!

"Jake! You're Alright!?" I asked of him.

"Yeah, man, I'm fine. Gertie patched me up good, daddy-o, I'm as fine as feathers and as right as rain," He assured me.

"That's right, I surely surely done-did," Gertie said.

"Hey Reg, the amps are set up and the drum kit is loaded on dock #3, Soul Brotha, how about we celebrate with a rock-n-roll concert for the whole Swamp?" Huang Si asked of me.

"Sounds like a Plan, baby." I answered.

We played our rock and roll that night into the night's sky. It was pretty buck. It was a good set-list, we did Everybody Walk the Dinosaur about mid-set and ended with Get on Up. 

Me. Jake. Huang Si. Gertie n' dear ol' Mama. Because of us The Swamp will be safe for generations to come and they will build statues to us in our honor.

THE END 

Short Story 2: The Tales of the Swamp Ensues ....

Experimental Short Story Training Continues this morning with ....

Short Story Number Two
Huang Si and the Fishing Contest

We left our heroes last SS (short story) after they ever-victoriously routed their beautiful swamp home of an infestation of crazy swampy monsters. Today, looks like ol' Huang Si has mixed and/or reserved feelings about this year's annual swamp fishin' contest .... I wonder how it'll play out.


1

I left the feudal confines of rural China many a year ago, I was only 3 years old when I came over this way yonder.

My ol' pappy? He was a smart man, a sailor, used to haul wrecks to shore to the salvage yards. I guess you'd call 'im a junkman ... a junkman who specialized in boat junks. That ol' sailor taught me all there is to know about salvage and also taught me the little tiny bit of Chinese Karate that I know today. God bless his soul.

My mammy? She was a nice lady ... taught me the ins and outs of the ol' game. Best of all she taught me how to fish. She learned me quick how to rope a big 'un and wrangle it in. Then we cook 'em and eat 'em. I loved my ol' mammy. Trouble is just like paw .... she died young. God rest her soul.

Nobody said being an orphan was easy ... but I struggled more than most with being orphaned at my young age due to how much I loved and missed my pappy n' my mammy.

I yearned for a family to once again call my own for a full decade, spending my teenage years journeying the world over .... but it was here where I found that family.

In the Swamp.




2

Old Weston, God rest his soul, let me stay at the swamp on the condition that I use those cherished skills my parents passed to me. No not karate, I'm talking about boat salvaging and fishin' is what I'm talking 'bout.

Salvagin' wrecks n' fishin' up smelts n' kippers are my talents ... and I cherish those talents more than anything on this wide earth. Why? Because that's all I have to remember my ancestors by, my beloved parents, who died way before their time ... they taught me those cherished talents and I will always hold them near and dear to my heart.

So, When Ol' Weston asked me to employ those talents for use ... in the fashion to be useful and to help others ... I was more than honored to do so. I've been pullin' up broken up junky boats and catchin' up fish in this swamp come it many a year now ... and I love every minute of it.

Until, of course, the day came where I had to permanently retire one of my cherished talents at the behest of my ancestor's code of honor.



3

My Ol' Mammy, Huang Erniang, taught me the ins and outs of ropin' big uns. Big fish, the biggest.

One day she told me,

"Son .... you must never use the 116 fishing techniques for evil. The Huang ancestors who wrote these 116 fishing techniques wrote them with the blood, sweat, and tears of one thousand fisherman. The fish you catch are ONLY to be used to feed the people of your village ... never to be sold to fish mongers in exchange for money!"

I was too young to understand the strength of these words at the time. I just thought they were some dopey fishin' tricks that she pretended were the passed-down for generations wisdom of one thousand elders.

It was a rainy and damp day down at the ol' swamp, the day I gave up fishing forever. I disobeyed the oath I made to my late mother that day.

"Where ya goin' Huang Si?" asked Gertrude to me.

"I'm just goin' down to the ol' fishin' spot, my secret one, Gertie, 'aint no big deal or nuthing," I responded.

"Oh alright, if ya catch something bring it on here ... I'll fry it up something fierce!" said Gertrude.

I remember that day well, I took our best motor boat, went down to my secret fishin' spot, picked up my rod, n' started to fish. And then it happened ...

.... I hooked the biggest fish of my life! A wide-mouthed bass half the size of a motor boat!

I was in my secret fishin' hole out in the farthest reaches of the swamp ... no one knew about it but me. If no one knew ... then no one knew I caught that fish neither ... ya reckon? That's what I reckoned, daddy-o, that's what I reckoned.

I took that fish, not back to Gertie to fry up in a butter pan, but I shot the motor boat up to north point dock and hitched it. I carried the big bass across my shoulders all the way up Northern Road all the way to Viktor City ... and you know what I did?

I sold it for many a money that day. I sold it hot and quick for a dandy batch of money, daddy-o, that's what I done did. I got a whole buncha money and wasted it all on chocolate and gamblin' houses like a fool.

... and by doin' that, I defied the sacred oath I made to my Mother, and angered the one thousand elders who wrote the divinest of fishin' techniques with their own blood, sweat, and tears.



4

"YA HAVEN'T CAUGHT NO DERNED FISH IN A SWAGGLIN' MONTH N' A HALF YA GRIMEY SONNAFA SAILOR!" yelled Moms Yeager at me.

"Don't be so hard on the brotha, my motha. Huang Si, over the years, has caught one hundred times more fish n' sea critters than any of us here at the swamp ... and you know that," Reggie said to her, coming to my defense.

"Reggie's right..." said Jake while takin' a long swig of swamp watta.

"Y'all defendin' him cause you three is like brothers the whole set of ya!" Angrily retorted Moms Yeager.

It made me happy that my soul brothers defended me like that ... but Moms Yeager was right as rain on this account. I was cursed something fierce. My fishin' skills dried up like a raisin in the hot sun, I tell ya.

That night, I dreamt pretty fierce, real sweaty-like dreams. I saw my Mammy come to me in that dream and she told me....

"Son, you have betrayed the wisdom of our ancestors and used your fishing talents for profit. The one thousand elders who's 116 techniques have been passed down in the Huang family for generations shall no longer be of service to you ... I'm sorry my son .... but you are no longer permitted to use them. You. Will. Never. Catch. A. Fish. Ever. Again..."

Then my mammy's ghost evaporated into the thinnest of air and I woke up in a feverish sweat, I did.

Knowing that what she said was the truth in that dream ... I knew I'd never catch a darned fish ever again and hung up my fishin' rod for good.

Now all I had left is my salvagin' junky boat talents my pappy taught me. I'll just use those to make myself useful here at the ol' Swamp...



5

August 6th through to the 10th, that was always the hardest week for me at the Swamp and it still is today. That's the days the Fishin' Contest is held here ... a contest who's championship I won on five occasions ... but I haven't taken  part in that ol' contest now in a good coupla years.

What good is taking part in a fishing contest if you're cursed by one thousand ancient Chinese ancestors to never ever again for the rest of your entire life catch a darned fish? No good, that's how much good. No good at all!

I bet ol' Jake, or Gertie, or one of those slimy suckers from the Dunston family might win this year. I'm not even gonna watch. It hurts me to watch them all catchin' big uns and I gotta sit and watch as I am buried under a Chinese Curse.

Woe is me to to say the least, daddy-o.

Just then, I could see in the distance, Reggie strugglin' with a big ol' sucker of a fish! Bein' so strong he hauled that sucker up rightly quick.

"DAMN! Look at the size of this here fish in this here boat!" Yelled Reggie.

Everyone was in awe, that hunk of fish would guarantee him the win in the contest, no doubt. It was a surely large hunk of fish meat is what it was.

...but then...

The fish STOOD UP. It had legs!? No way!

"That 'aint no fish you knuckle head! THAT'S ANOTHER ONE OF DEM GREASY SON OF A SWAMP MONSTAS! yelled Moms Yeager.

The monster was scary as sin, man. It had big fish ears to hear ya with, big fisheyed eyes to see ya with, and big fish teeth to bite your ass off, man!

The fish jumped up and down on Reggie's fine motor boat and flung Reg off it like a spring board. He landed in the water, Jake jumped out of his nearby boat and swam to him, and they both swam back to the swamp's shore.

Everyone was too tired from bein' baked in the hot swamp sun n' fishin' all day to have enough stamina to fight that dirty ol' monster fish.

...And me? I was feeling cursed and useless ... like a pile of accursed beach rocks.



6

Sittin' there watching this swamp monster make fools of my soul brothers. It was hard. I knew I had to do something.

Rightly then I had a vision, it was my pappy. It was my dear pappy's ghost and he told me right to my mind's eye...

"Huang Si, it is I, your father...."

"Pappy, is it really you ..." I answered his voice, with my eyes closed, as if in a dream.

"Yes, my son, and I must tell you ... I know I forbid you from using the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa karate school .... but ... Huang Si .... your soul brothers, Mr. Jake, and Mr. Reggie, are in grave and dire straits, my son."

"Father, what are you trying to tell me, father?" I asked my father's ghost.

"Your soul brothers will perish if you do not use the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa school. My son, I no longer forbid you from using them. You will not be cursed by a hundred thousand ancestors if you use the Death Moves! Please! Hurry! USE! THE! 19! DEATH! MOVES! OF! THE! HUANG! FA!"

"Okay ... father ... I will."



7

"That monsta gonna run a havoc in this swamp, I'm tellin' ya!" yelled Gertie in a feverish pitch.

"We are all too sun burned n' sun swaggled n' sun stroked from the hot sun and all the fishing all day to fight this slimey sucka!" Yelled Reggie.

"Damn right..." said Jake.

"Hold it, everyone, I've just been sittin' under this here swamp tree all day just sokin' up the shade. I haven't fished a lick all day long, daddy-o. My stamina is 110% right now ... and filled with the words of wisdom of my late father ... I am rip, rap, rock-steady, and raring to fight that Monster Fish!" I exclaimed with the potent vigor of a champion.

I leaped into the air, high up into the sky, like a flyin' fish ... and landed right on the boat where that grimey slimey son of a sailor monster fish was doing his intimidating monster thang.

Fightin' on a rocky boat sounds hard, but not for a man who trained under Huang Fa. I used to fend off my father's practice blows whilst standin' on large bamboo stocks at our family's bamboo thicket. 'Aint nothing short of routine for me to be fightin' on a rocky-docky boat like this.

"GET 'IM H-SI !! DO IT FOR THE SWAMP, SOUL BROTHA!" Implored Reggie to me.

I entered a counter-attack position and taunted the Fish Monster to open up the first round of engagement. He declined at first, but even though he can't speak my language, I'm sure the tone of when I referred to him/her/it as a "Gunky Hunka Hunka Slimey Trash" musta gotten under its skin and then it came at me with the force of a dozen swamp mules!

I parried and countered, and used the 7th of the 19 Death Moves ... The Divinity Crane Elbow Counter technique, as the errand blow of the monster sailed to my left ... I turned and pounced with #7 on the right ... my elbow struck but didn't seem to end the monster's resolve.

"Look out Huang Siiiiiii! He's comin' back with the ol' 1-2 combo!" Warned Jake from afar.

I pivoted off my good foot and balanced my shiftin' weight on the rocky boat with my off foot. I was off my good foot! Good GOD!

Just then, in my wobbly n' bobbly state of footing, I remembered the 11th of the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa. The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia!

The 11th of the Death Moves uses wobblyness and bobblyness to the user's advantage. The input of my wobble would be directed and outputted to my FIST.*

The Monster Fish thought he had me on my bad foot and went in full throttle to punch me offa da boat. But the joke was on that dumb fish ... for how could it have foreseen that under my employ of limited karate moves was one in which quadrupled my potency while being off balance.

Sometimes it is just the luck of the draw, daddy-o. Sometimes it's just the luck of the draw. I beat that fish and won the day with my Ever Victorious Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia ... but more importantly I won something else that day .... the re-respect of my ancestors.

That night, I was visited thrice more in my dreams by varying ancestors. My pappy came by my mind's eye to congratulate me on defeating that slimey son of a sailor swamp monster. My mammy came by to tell me how proud she was of me ... and then my mammy said a thousand people would like to speak with you, son.

I asked her .... "Who?"

Then the voices of One Thousand Ancestors filled my mind's eye, speaking all at once but somehow it felt like they spoke as One. They told me that, today ... I used enough blood n' sweat n' tears to be forgiven for my misdeeds of the past. They told me that I will once again be allowed the use of the 116 Divine Talents of the Ancient Mariners .... the greatest fishing skills known the world over.

Looks like I'll back at my favorite secret fishin' spot tomorrow ... hoistin' up smelts n' trouts inta my ol' motor boat again, daddy-o.

END.




And thus concludes the second installment of the Swamp Trilogy. The next one ... through the POV (point of view) of Reggie ... our heroes will finally uncover why there's swamp monsters in their swamp. Is it an Alien Clandestined Conspiracy? A Government Clandestined Conspiracy or something even worse and more sinister? Who even knows.




Foot Notes
*The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist is known as the 颤抖的酒精拳头 or the Arukoru Chudoku no Ken for Japanese speakers. Translations may vary.

Short Story: The Swamp

My book isn't going well. I gave up on it. I only know like essay-esque styles. Fiction is hard, it is. I tried to branch out and do movie writin' a few years back. I remember one was called The Rick Cerone Story and one was called The Diarrhea Tree. Re-reading them ... they're okay I guess. I'm still not trained at fiction writings though.

This One: Script 1
That One: Script 2

I'm gonna try and start smaller with fiction. Gonna write a couple shorties. This first one I did tonight is called .... "The Swamp."

What's it about? Well ... I guess you'll have to read on to find out.



The Swamp
-A short story by D. 

1

... and they saw me walk away. Walk away from it all. The fame. The glory. Everything.

Where did I go? Well that's hard to say. Some people tell me I can never escape the past and I'm still there in those swamps ... but I know better. I'm just an old sack of saw dust now a days ... but back then? I was really Someone.

It all started the day Weston died. He told me, "Jake .... you can't turn your back on those people ... they need ya."

Weston was a good man, he knew life inside and out ... and I knew he meant what he said that day. That day that he died. He meant every damned last word of it. And me? Did I care? No. Did I even pretend to care? No, I did not. I could have cared less about that dying old man's words of wisdom. To me they were worth less than dirt. Filthy rotten dirt.

I turned my back on those people because I had to, or so I thought at the time. I buried Weston and read all the proper rites ... he told me he was Christian once ... so I read him some Christian rites over his dusty old hole which would forever be his final destination on his road of life.

My road of life is only beginning .... it began that day I turned my back on it all. On Everything.

2

What did Weston mean ... that they "needed" me those people. What did he mean? They were all good folk and they didn't need an old hired ranch hand like me. How could they have? My boots 'aint even worth a red cent, not even a cent. My hands are all crippled and in pain. My back sure is not what it used to be. What did they need a dusty old ranchman like me in that swamp ... they didn't even have livestock in that swamp ... unless ya count fish and water fowl as livestock ... which I don't.

That Weston sure was a character. All those people in the swamp were ... now that I think about it. Characters the whole bunch of 'em. Characters.

There was Reggie. Me and him got along plenty fine. He wasn't a character as much as he was a compadre and amigo. Black fella. Trustworthy as humans come.

And Huang Si, Chinese fella. Didn't know too much karate ... but that's okay. He didn't need it much in the swamp anyhow... all anyone needed in that swamp was a couple of hardworking hands and ethic. An ethic that we all lived by. The Code.

Gertrude ran the bar. Nice lady. Spoke well.

Weston .... that old goat. Bad ticker. Breathed poorly ... and smelled. Smelled of tabaccy. But I liked 'em. Nice guy.

Weston. That swamp woulda fell apart without him. He knew that swamp like the back of his hand .... but only because he tatooed a map of the swamp to it, that is. He knew all the brooks and brannies of that filthy ol' swamp ... all the ways in ... and all the ways out. He knew where all the ducks hung out ... so he could shoot 'em and eat 'em whenever he wanted.

I knew that swamp like the back of my hand too now that I think about it ... and I didn't even have a map of it inked on my hand. I knew it from smarts, just plain old smarts.

Damnit Weston. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Were you right? Naw .... the swamp is better off without me. I'm the one who brought them there. They followed MY scent somehow those things. They followed my scent or maybe it was my heat. Maybe they followed my heat. Either way it don't matter ... all that matters ... is that the swamp is better off without me.

Reggie told me once ... "The only way I'll ever leave the swamp is if the swamp leaves me."

Well, I'm sorry Reggie, it's sad to say but that swamp is as good as gone. Our home. It's on its last legs, Reg. Its last legs.....

3

I turned back to look at it. The Swamp .... it's almost out of sight now ... all I can see is the restaurant boat. Yup, a restaurant on a boat ... 'aint that something. God damnit I miss the swamp. Ya just hook up your motor boat to the restaurant boat and ol' Moms Yeager would set you up with all the fixins and swamp watta you can sink your hands into.

I remember when me n' Reg first found the swamp ... we loved that boat restaurant. We loved it more than anything in this world. It was a restaurant ... on a boat. It was really something else.

I ate there every day. Eatin' fixins n' drinkin' swamp watta, daddy-o ... that was me. Now as I look at it, the last visible piece of the swamp hoverin' over the horizon, I'm startin' think maybe Weston was right ... maybe those people really did "need" me.

Can they fend them off? Reg is a big guy ... and Huang Si knows a bit of ol' karate ... I'm sure they'll be okay. Right?

Gertrude's got that stick thing ... with the blade thing on it. She could probably fend some of them off. She's a tough gal. Yeah ... they'll be alright.

Better keep walking ... walking away from that swamp .... away from my Home that I Love.

4

I played the best concert of my life in that swamp ... me on guitar, n' Reg on bass, n' Huang Si on drums. It was the best performance of my life.

H-Si had a way about him on those drums. His set up was pretty elaborate for a swamp band. He even mad a microphone on the kit so he could sing some back up vocals. He didn't do much singing ... he'd do some though ... here and there.

When we'd cover Walk the Dinosaur, usually midway into the set, H-Si would do the "Boom Boom - Chaka Laka - Boom Boom" part and then me n' Reg would sing the "Open da door - get on the floor - NOW EVERYBODY WALK THE DINOSAUR!" part ... and the crowd really enjoyed that number. They really enjoyed that number, the crowd.

Everyone would bring their motor boats up to the stage and tie 'em to the posts and watch the concert from their motor boats n' drink crystal clear sweet swamp water ... that's what they did.

Man ... I miss the swamp. They'll .... they'll be fine without me. Won't they?

I don't know.

5

"YOU BROUGHT THEM HERE, YOU GREASY SON OF A SAILOR!"

That's what Moms Yeager yelled at me that day. That day the monsters came to the swamp.

"I TOLD YOU TA NEVVA GO INTO THAT WATERY CAVE UP ON THE NORTH SIDE OF THE SWAMP! THERE'S MONSTERS IN THAT CAVE ... YOU DUMB IDIOT!"

She was right. There was monsters in that cave. Swamp Monsters. And they followed me back to the swamp with their noses or maybe they have like heat sensing tendrils of something ... maybe they were following my heat with their tendrils ... y'know? I don't know. I really don't.

Alls I know is ... is that I am the one that they followed to the swamp after I disobeyed Moms Yeager's aged wisdom and went a spelunkin' yonder in that damp ol' watery cave on the northern side of the swamp.

Moms wasn't the only person of the swamp to chew me out something fierce that morning. Gerdie, Huang Si ... and even Reg...

"It don't matter if it was your smell OR your HEAT. Those filthy swamp monsters are in the swamp now ... and it's YOUR FAULT man," Reggie told me.

Huang Si told me to take ol' Weston away from the swamp. Weston was too old for this shit. He was much too old to be fightin' swamp monsters.

"Take the best of the motor boats and bring old Weston up to the eastern road ... he can make his way into Humphrey town by that yonder way," is what Huang Si instructed me to do.

And I did.

Until old Weston had a heart attack from all the excitement and just conked out on the east road into Humphrey town.

Now I'm just standing here, on old Eastern Road .... looking at a dead Weston.

6

I wasn't stinky that day. I wasn't overly hot that day. God damn it. How did those filthy watery monsters follow me from that cave all the way back to the swamp? It makes no sense. It makes absolutely no sense.

Wait.

Those big swampy monster ears. Could it all have been sound? God damnit! I was humming the whole way home! They followed my NOISE back to the swamp. God damn those filthy swamp monsters from that damp swampy cave!

I can't turn my back on the swamp. Weston was right. Those people DO NEED ME. Gertrude, n' Huang Si, n' Moms, n' Reggie ... they all need me back there .... BACK THERE FIGHTING THOSE SWAMP MONSTERS!

If those horrible wet monsters like my humming so much to follow me back to the swamp like that ... then maybe I need to put on a show for those slimy sons of sailors. I'm going back.

... to the Swamp.

7

I ran back down Eastern road back to the dock and jumped into our best motor boat and revved it up full power and made a bee line back to the swamp. I hitched the motor boat to the dock where we keep the drum kit and the amps for our guitars.

I jumped out of the boat and plugged my electric guitar into the amp .... I picked up that guitar and started to PLAY! I played my heart out on that guitar and its powerful rock and roll waves blasted throughout the entire Swamp.

BA NEEEEEEEEER NA NEEEEEEEEEER! NEEEER NA NA NEEEEEEEER! BA NEEEEEEEEER NEEER NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!

All my brethren and sistren who were fending off multitudes of swampy monsters lifted their heads and saw me blaring out hot licks on my guitar!

"It's Jake! He's back!" Cried Reggie.

"Damn it Jake! Is Weston okay?" asked Huang Si.

"Naw, he died of a heart attack. Ol' West died on the East before we got to Humphrey." I said.

"God damnit you stupid fool, it's not the time to be playing that infernal racket! Fight these swampy bastids with us!" exclaimed Moms Yeager at me.

"I am Moms. I AM FIGHTING! Look!" I responded in a frenzy while playing my electric guitar.

As I directed the denizens of the swamp to look at the swampy monsters ... they saw them covering their dirty ear holes and scurrying about like a buncha crazy critters!

"Look at them go!" yelled Huang Si.

"So it wasn't smell or heat ... it was NOISE" said Reggie whilst nodding.

I know with my broken up hands and my bad back that I couldn't be much help in this fight for the sanctity of our beautiful swamp ... but I still got my smarts, daddy-o. I still got my smarts.

"They're all running away ... except for that big one!" cried Gertrude in a fever heat.

"God damnit ... that's the biggest swamp monster I ever seen!" said Reggie.

"That's the way these swamp monsters swarm, there's always a hundred little bastids who just do the swarmin' n' monkey fightin', but then behind them is always the big one," explained Moms Yeager.

"I 'aint worried Mama, with my strength, Huang Si's basic knowledge of Chinese Karate, Gertrude's stick thang with the knife thang taped on it .... and Jake's tactical knowledge of the layout of the swamp ... there's no way in HELL that swamp monster can best us ... the PEOPLE OF THE SWAMP!" proclaimed Reggie with the will of a champion.

...and he was right. With my tactical knowledge of the layout of the swamp ... that I know like the back of my hand .... we could do this. We could win. Not only that but for the first time I understood what Weston was trying to say.

I really was needed at this Swamp. Thank you for convincing me of that, ol' West.

8

Now I'm back at the Swamp ... where I belong ... and now it's time me to ... SHINE.

I proclaimed with renewed vigor....

"Moms! Use your broom stick! Bang it against Huang Si's gong that he brought from China! Make as much noise as possible to drive the remaining swamp bastards outta the swamp and back to their filthy cave!"

"Reggie! Gertrude! Huang Si! Set fires near the north, east, and west waterways so that big boss monster can't see those escape routes!"

"I'm going to the South waterway in our best motor boat! Everyone meet me there in 10 minutes ... and Gerdie ... bring your stick thing that has the knife on it!"

"YEAH"!

(Everybody Walks the Dinosaur begins slowly playing .... slowly getting louder and louder whilst they execute their counter-plan on the swampy monsters)

As everyone assembled at the South Water Way I continued orchestrating my battle plans....

"Alright is everyone here at the South Way! Good. Gerdie ... run up to that big dope and wave your knife stick at 'im all exagerated-like!"

Gertrude readied her 4 foot long stick with the knife taped to it and began swinging it about the air ceremoniously ... which appeared to either impress or frighten the Large Swamp Monster.

"Reggie ... get behind Gerdie and get ready to fight that thing mano-y-mano my brotha! Huang Si .... you get behind Reggie and conceal yourself behind him as so the swamp monster cannot see you!"

Gerdie executed a feint with her makeshift spear and then dispersed and retreated ... right on cue dependable Reggie was right behind her with his dukes up ready to fight the large boss swamp monster one on one with his adequate boxing ability. All the while ... Huang Si was lying in ambush behind the gigantic Reggie .... and the swamp monster was none the wiser as he could not see H-Si.

"Now! Reg! Duck, evade, n' scurry ... then skedaddle! When the monster tries to move in on Reg while his guard is momentarily down ... Huang Si .... spring out and ambush it with a powerful Chinese Karate Kick!!!"

(Everybody Walk the Dinosaur starts getting much much louder)

"HIGH! YAAAAA! BICYCLE KICK!" screeched Huang Si at the top of his lungs as he lunged his front foot at the monster's head.

The blow connected and the large swamp monster was visibly damaged by the high flyin' aerial assault of Huang Si ... but the marauding monster gradually gathered back its composure and continued his advance on the swampateers.

"God Damnit! That sonnafa sailor is still standin'!?" Exclaimed Gertrude in an alarming clamor.

Is this the end for our stalwart swamp heroes? Only time will tell. It seems they have gone from the fryin' pan and straight into the fire, daddy-o ... like a coupla dirty brine shrimps.

9

The ravenous swamp monster had eyes like iron rods, it was slimy and dirty like a pound of kettle fish, and had teeth the size of nails. It was coming right for our intrepid bayou billies and it had only one thing on its slimy swampy mind .... Murder.

Good thing I had a little more to my brilliant strategy then I had let on.

"NOW MOMS YEAGER! NOW" I YELLED.

Right then, as quick as a flume, Moms Yeager rose from her secret motor boat hitched to an old stump near the big red buoy ... and threw a pot full of rotten milk n' rotten cheese all over that slimy son of a sailor monster!

As the monster stood there covered in rotten milk n' rotten cheese ... I felt with victory in this engagement 100% ensured ... I could finally divulge my fail proof stratagem with this slimy monster. I don't rightfully know if it can understand human speak .... but for ol' Weston's sake ... I feel as if this monster deserves to know why it lost.

"Well, Mr. Monster. Do you rightfully know why I lured you to this southern waterway? It happens that we here in this here swamp like to refer to this inlet as Rodent Trench. This is where all the beavers, n' badgers, n' rats like to gather and scavenge for food ... and you Mr. Monster ... standing there all covered in rotten milk n' rotten cheese ... probably sure as sam must look mighty appetizin' to a myriad of hungry scavenging buck tooth rodents ... you reckon, Mr. Monster?"

It just looked at me ... like I was speakin' in tongues .... but as sure as the rain is clean .... and as sure as the night is brisk ... those saw-toothed filthy rodents of Rodent Trench covered that monster from head to toe like a buncha kids scurrying to a christmas tree on christmas ... boy did those beavers n' badgers n' rats chew up that slimy swampy monster. It was a sight to behold.

It's times like this I wish ol' Weston were still alive to experience things and see things with his gimpy bloodshot eyes. If he were still alive and he looked on this gigantic monster ... all covered in filthy rodents ... and being chewed alive ... I wonder what he'd say.

Just then I felt a cold wind hit my back .... and a smooth whisper hit the back of my ear.

....."Ya see that, Jake. I told you they needed you."

And thus concludes, "The Swamp."