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The Return of Madness (and Mel Gibson)

Ed. Note: When we last left off in our story, Rex had been drugged by his new-found father Mel Gibson, who, it turns out, has been tending bar on Mars. Prior to losing consciousness (a familiar and welcome sensation for our hero,) he heard Mel preaching about the importance of the "LULZ." Yeah, yeah, it does sound weak, but you can sort-of get caught up by skimming through this.

Blackness. Pain. Pleasure. Blackness. Pain. Pleasure. Blackness.

Such has been the sequence of events for most of my adult life, but suddenly I realized that this pattern was moving more quickly than normal. Only after 30 or so repetitions did I come to see that I was awakening from my unconsciousness (blackness) with a hangover of Biblical proportions (pain) before sipping the drug-laced scotch (pleasure) that knocked me out again (blackness.) You'd think it would take me less than 30 incidents of passing out cold on the back-room floor of the only bar on Mars before it became clear to me that I shouldn't drink the laced booze, but you'd be wrong (but in my defense it was excellent scotch!) It was only after I had finished off the hooch that I was able to break the cycle and come face-to-face with Mel Gibson, my father and the man who had slipped me the mickey. Did I mention that he was wearing a clown suit and makeup? No? That seems like something I should mention. So, anyway, he was wearing a clown suit and makeup. Nothing you should be at all curious about.

"You're probably curious as to why I'm wearing a clown suit and makeup," he said before, for no good reason, breaking into maniacal laughter while pulling a long string of multi-colored handkerchiefs out of his big red nose. After squirting me with a bottle of seltzer, he went on. "It's quite simple, really. I do it for the LULZ. In fact, I do everything for the LULZ. Everything!"

"Everything?" I asked, and with my hangover the question exploded in my skull like a cannon in a bathroom stall. "Even the anti-semitism?"

"Of course!" he yelled, and pulled a quarter from my ear. "The fact is I love the Jews! Some of my best friends are Jewish. My accountant, my agent, my dentist, well, you get the point! The thing is, nobody cares if you're religiously tolerant, but make a movie clearly blaming the Jews for Jesus' death? Pure penguin bowling LULZ!"

He had a point. "Fair enough, but what about Lethal Weapon 4? Good God, that was an affront to anyone will an IQ over 4. Lulz?" Ever say a word that ends with "z" with a massive hangover? It's like a running a chainsaw in a port-a-potty.

"Absolutely for the LULZ! What you call an affront to intelligence, I call an affront to all of those too-serious film critics who love the smell of their own farts!" He then farted a burst of confetti. Well, at lest I think it was confetti. Might've been corn. Now that I think about it, it was definitely corn. Confetti doesn't smell like an open sewer, does it? Didn't think so.

"The DUI? I've been arrested for all kinds of alcohol-related offenses, but never a DUI…well, probably because I don't have a car. Or a license. Well, not a valid one. I do have a McLovin Hawaii license…now THAT's funny! But drunk behind the wheel? Not cool." It was difficult to get these words out, as I had unexpectedly been hit in the face with a pie. A pie with corn kernels in it.

"Not cool?!? VERY cool!" He again laughed that creepy laugh and pulled a quarter out of my ear. "I wasn't drunk! Didn't you hear? The charges were dropped because, a) I'm penguin-bowling Mel Gibson, and b) the humorless judge, prosecutor and cops were warmed over when they realized they'd all been pranked! LULZ for the win!"

"Ok, but what about that affair with the model half your age? Did you leave your wife and family for the LULZ as well?" At this point I was breathing completely through my mouth, as the stench from his now-stained clown suit had filled the room.

"No, no, no. She's a model half of my age. Duh! But listen, you're missing the point." Suddenly Mel's face took on a serious look…well, as serious as one can look with an orange 'fro and a big red nose. "The point is that eRep needs the LULZ. The place is filthy with self-righteous serious people who've forgotten that this is a game. Heck, LIFE is a game. There are no winners. You CAN'T win this game! The best you can hope for is to have a few laughs along the way." After hitting me in the head with a giant hammer that let out a loud "squeak," he continued. "That's where you come in. Rex, I'm getting too old for this stuff, and quite frankly, I'd rather focus all of my energies on that young, nubile model. That's why I am sending you, my only son, down to Earth to spread the word. And that word is LULZ. Tell them that there is a NEW covenant, or testament if you will, that wipes the slate clean and makes the world safe for the LULZ. You will be ridiculed, and you may even be persecuted, but through you the sins of seriousness will be absolved. Will you accept this blessing?"

Me? Some kind of mayhem messiah? While the idea appealed to my ego (think of the chicks I could get!) I had to admit I was apprehensive. Was I up to such a challenge? Could I really change the mind-set of the humorless drones that held sway in the eRep world? Oh, and not for nothing, but what does "persecute" mean? Doesn't sound cool. Still, someone once told me that a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do (I think it was your mom.) That's when my response became clear and inescapable.

"No," I said, flung a handful or corn into his face, and ran like hell.

While your head is trying to wrap around what the heck just happened, why not take a gander at what the Cacophony Society is up to? Check out their propaganda here. Oh, and subscribe to Penguin Bowling Balls. All of the cool kids are doing it.