Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Deadpool's Theatre Of The Obscure Presents - Ride the Streak! Part 1 - Rassum Frassum Casey Kasem


You’re late.

I watched Pokémon waiting for you people!

I am so going to kill Tony Stark...

Now kindly sit down. The show’s starting.

Boys! Remove the guy with the dog collar...

...I whip out this baby...

The guy wets his pants.

I know your momma was a pig.

...I see this big, huge...

C’mon Jessie, shake it for daddy!




By Deadpool. And that Chris guy. I think that’s his name.

So, where did we leave off last time...

Ah yeah, now I remember. So, I’d just ducked into this alley, and I was about to flip on my image inducer, when I see this big, huge...

Oh for... will you people at the back shut up, already? Honestly, some people!


That’s better. So, I see this big, huge...


Yow! Geez! Sorry folks, one of our halogen bulbs just burned out. Hang on, I’ll be with ya in just a sec...

Gus! Get up there and fix that!

*crashing noises*

Hurry up, these people don’t have all day!

*lights flick on*

That’s better. So, I see this big, huge cat.


*cricket chirp*

*tumbleweed rolls past*

Well, you hadda be there. This was one fat mother-friggin’ cat, you understand me? But the interesting thing was, it was sitting on the hood of this silver and black Datsun sports car. So, I’m thinking, why does someone leave an expensive, well-cared for sports car just lying in an alley, for Top Cat’s bulimic cousin to relieve himself on the hood of? So, I scoot the cat off it, and look in through the windshield. Empty as a bag of cheese doodles on a fat farm. So I go around the side, and look in there. Still empty, believe it or not. So, I try the handle. Locked. Big surprise. So, I start to try and force it.

And then the weird stuff starts.

It’s like... the car yells at me.

"Back off, ya jerk!" this voice just comes out of inside the car or something, and I’m so startled that I lose my grip on the handle and wind up on my well-toned buttocks amongst the trash cans. And I swear to God, this car sounded just like Casey Kasem.

Hey! What are YOU laughing at? You think it’s funny? You think I’m makin’ this up?

That’s better. Now keep your trap shut. Joe and Gus don’t get much fun.

"Hold the friggin’ two-way executive cellular phone!" I said out loud. I talk to myself a lot. It’s a bad habit.

"You could scratch the bodywork!" the car snaps at me again. By this time, I’m beyond thinking that maybe the radio in the car suddenly came on and Ol’ Casey is running through a Top 40 with song titles that sound remarkably like insults directed to a loud-mouthed mercenary. So, the only thing that I can say is:


Wade Wilson, master wordsmith. Oh, the irony.

So, then, the car starts to shake like a melon on Baywatch, and it starts changing. At this point, I’m up on my feet again, watching this with he attention I would give the aforementioned melon, as the car starts to rise up, the hood swings down, the doors open ,and arms and legs form out of the chassis. And then, this funky looking head pops out of the works, and before I know it, there’s an honest to goodness, son-of-a-snowblower, thirty foot tall robot standing in front of me. I look up at it, about a zillion things running through my wigged-out little head, and the only thing that comes out is:

"There’s somethin’ ya don’t see everyday."

"I guess I should have waited to transform. You shouldn’t see me like this," it replies, in a voice that makes me think that Scooby-Doo is about to pop out from behind a trash can. Me, I’m still standing there with my mouth hanging open. At that moment, I voice the one thing that’s most prominent in my mind:


"The name is Bluestreak, human," it says. "And I think the question is, what am I going to do with you?" Then, there’s this beeping noise, and it presses its forearm, and this little panel opens, and a screen with a this little picture of a guy who looks just like Streaky on it.

"Bluestreak, report back to the Ark at once," this other guy says.

"But Prowl...," he says, jerking his head at me.

"Never mind him," this Prowl character says. "One human is not important. There’s a situation developing with Optimus. We need you here for briefing."

Huh? Whuzzat, Chris? Oh, Chris says that you people might want to check out ‘X-Men’ #’s 4 and 5 for more about this junk. Go on, I’ll wait right here.

Hey! Get back here, dammit! Don’t you know an empty gesture when ya hear one? Damn X-Men, taking readers away from MY book... I hope one of those robots steps on ‘em.

And another thing, if you know so much about this stuff, Chris, why the heck didn’t you tell ME? I’m the guy who lived it, ya know?

...uh-huh... yeah, well I guess... huh. Okay, I’ll buy that. Cry baby.

So, anyway, then the communication’s cut off, and this Bluestreak guy sighs. "Who the hell was that?" I ask. "Your twin brother?" Personally, I was just grateful that he didn’t sound like another member of the Scooby-Doo ‘Gang’.

I’m tellin’ ya, I’ve got a REAL problem with that show. They’re on drugs, I tell you, all of them. They think the dog can TALK! And Velma... don’t get me started on her, she is SO a lesbian!

Whaddaya mean, how would I know? What are you implying? You want to take this outside?

I didn’t think so. Wuss. Now, just let finish the story, huh?

So, then - and this really cheeses me off - Ol’ Streaky Boy just ignores me. He turns back into a car, with this groaning, straining noise that I guess I just didn’t hear the first time. Personally, I think he needed a little more fibre in his diet. And he zooms off, leaving me dazed, confused, and with a strong urge to watch "Battle of the Planets".

So that’s the story. Like I said last time, pretty freakin’ messed up. But I’m not complaining. It’s the story of my life.

If you liked Deadpool’s Theatre of the Obscure, remember to send strongly-worded e-mails to those crazy MUTF guys telling them you want to see more of me. Oh, and Chris accepts cash, cheques, postal orders and all major credit cards.

Thank you, and good night!


A word from the author:

Thanks, Wade. On a serious note, though, if you guys out there enjoyed these two issues, and want to see more, then please feel free to drop me a line - I wont know to write any more if you don’t! If I get positive response, at some time, I’ll publish a Deadpool questionaire, so you can tell me exactly who/what you’d like to see in future ‘Marvel Universe Transformed Presents... Deadpool’ issues, should any come to be.

Thanks for your time - Chris

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