Post by Indy Darling on Feb 2, 2022 22:46:00 GMT -5
*FLUSH*
Serrano stood up from his private throne and pulled his jogging pants back up around his waist with a satisfied smile.
*GURGLE GURGLE CLUG*
But upon hearing an uncooperative drain, his smile quickly faded.
SERRANO POBLANO: Son of a Stromboli! As if I didn’t have enough to worry about with that big match against Petey’s Pocket Posse, now I’ve got to plunge the hopper!
He threw open the cabinet under his sink and then started tossing various adult magazines aside in search of his trusty plunger. Getting on his hands and knees, Serrano then pushed his head inside of the cabinet, mumbling to himself the entire time.
SERRANO POBLANO: …Preparation H…sandpaper…rubber gloves…Oh! Leftover hot wings!
He pulled himself back out of the cabinet with the plate of hot wings in hand, yet still no plunger to unclog his drain. Munching down on one of the mystery wings, Serrano finally took a look at what was causing the problem, his eyes growing wide as they peered into the porcelain bowl.
SERRANO POBLANO: Oh…my…
As bits of half-chewed chicken wing fell from his mouth, Serrano slowly dropped to his knees, his eyes still transfixed on the wondrous sight that had emerged from his very own body.
SERRANO POBLANO: …it’s a sign!
He turned back to grab the previously discovered rubber gloves, dumped the hot wings off of their plate, and went to work retrieving his treasure…
SOME TIME LATER…
With a proud smile on his face and a paper sack held gently in his outstretched hands, Serrano marched up to the apartment door of his dear friend, Larry KaChow. After a few quick knocks upon the door, Larry swung it open with a scowl on his face.
LARRY KACHOW: What?! I told you never to come here!
SERRANO POBLANO: ‘Sup, Uncle Lar?! I know I’m not supposed to hit up your crib unannounced, but I just had to show this to someone, and your place was closer than Percy’s!
The scowl on KaChow’s face began to turn even more sour, as he caught a whiff of what Serrano had hidden in the bag.
LARRY KACHOW: It smells like you’ve already been to see him. Now what could a tub of butter like you possibly have to show me?
Without waiting for an invitation, Serrano pushed past Larry to enter his apartment. Much to his surprise, seated around a card table were Guy, El Puma, and Noah Hope, each of them holding a hand of playing cards with a stack of poker chips scattered between them. The sight momentarily caught Serrano off-guard.
SERRANO POBLANO: Oh, is it a meeting night? I must have missed the message. Where’s Percy and Rapture?
With a frustrated sigh, Larry closed the door to his apartment and leaned toward Serrano to whisper in his ear.
LARRY KACHOW: No, it’s not a meeting night. Not officially, anyway. I just needed a few extra bucks and figured I could take these guys for all they’re worth. Percy doesn’t have any money and Rapture had a Five Finger Filet game already scheduled.
Serrano nodded his head in understanding.
SERRANO POBLANO: Gotcha. So, how’s it going?
LARRY KACHOW: I’m down two hundred. Who knew El Puma was such a goddamn gamer? Anyway, what do you want? I’m thirty-five cents away from offering up my pants if he calls my bluff.
SERRANO POBLANO: Trust me, this is much better than a poker game.
The Sultan of Spice proudly marched up to the table, knocked the chips and cards aside with a swipe of his arm, and gently laid the paper bag in the center of the group.
NOAH HOPE: Serrano! Whazzup?!
GUY: Whazzup?!
EL PUMA: Qué Pasa?!
SERRANO POBLANO: Whazzup?! I’m so glad you boys are here! Sorry, about the game fellas, but you’re gonna want to see this. I was doing my afternoon duty before my Jazzercise routine and something miraculous happened…
Serrano then grabbed hold of the paper sack with one hand and reached inside with the other. Slowly and with the utmost caution, he then removed the plate that used to hold hot wings but was now filled with The Heater’s prized poop.
SERRANO POBLANO: Behold…a sign from the Gods!
LARRY KACHOW: Sweet Jesus, Poblano! I eat my dinner at that table!
NOAH HOPE: Oh…. oh, the smell….
Noah Hope immediately leapt from his seat and ran toward the bucket in the corner of the one-room apartment that serves as Larry’s toilet.
GUY: That…is a big pile of shit.
EL PUMA: ¡No me gusta!
SERRANO POBLANO: So? What do you think? Please tell me you guys can see what I’m seeing!
Noah Hope looked up from his puke bucket with tears in his eyes.
NOAH HOPE: I…I don’t know what I saw…but you might need to see a doctor…
GUY: Yeah, I still see a big pile of shit.
EL PUMA: ¿Por qué hay maíz?
LARRY KACHOW: That’s it, Serrano. If you and Percy have been fishing in the sewer water again, I swear I’m going to disband this entire group…
SERRANO POBLANO: No, guys! I’m serious! Look closer…
Against their better judgment, the members of the KaVengers glanced back at the platter of poo that Serrano had placed before them. Then…slowly…each of them began to form an expression of recognition…
NOAH HOPE: Wait…that red discoloration…almost looks like a familiar hairstyle…
GUY: And those specks of spice…kind of resemble freckles…
EL PUMA: Parece un cuerpo fuera de forma…
Yet Larry KaChow was the most taken aback of them all…
LARRY KACHOW: Holy shit…it looks just like TJ Thompson…
The shock amongst the group was temporarily halted as Larry’s apartment door swung open and a voice rang out…
RAPTURE: Whazzup fuckers?!
With each of his fingers wrapped in heavy gauze, a sign that his Five Finger Filet game had not gone well, Rapture marched into the room and immediately noticed the plate of poop upon the table,
RAPTURE: Sweet TJ Thompson sculpture! Where’d you get it?
EVEN LATER:
With his phone on a selfie stick recording his movements and those of the other KaVengners behind him, Serrano Poblano made his way through the sewer system in search of their final member. Over his shoulder, Larry KaChow could be seen wearing a gas mask with Guy by his side, carefully carrying the sack-covered plate of poo. A short distance behind them was El Puma as he gave Noah Hope a piggy-back ride, and bringing up the rear was Rapture, who occasionally paused to toss a throwing dagger at a passing cockroach.
SERRANO POBLANO: Whazzup, Project: Honor?! It’s your boy, The Sultan of Spice, Serrano Poblano coming to you from the awesome abode of Percival Burque. While my friends and I are on our way to visit our best buddy, Wrestling Supreme, I thought it might be fun to throw out some epic trash talk to the poor souls who drew the short-straw and have to face the fabled faction of funk…The KaVengers!
In the distance, Rapture tosses one of his blades.
RAPTURE: Fuck! Missed him!
SERRANO POBLANO: Now some people might think that we’ll be the underdogs on Friday Night, but those kinds of fools are just underestimating the power of friendship! Not only that, but we recently received a divine omen that will seal the fate of Petey’s Pack of Pickled People! Even the presence of Ozymandias isn’t gonna stop us this time, because I personally have his number! I’ve been on a seafood diet since the match was announced, and in my dreams, I can see the sunken city of R’eally where the great A’choolu…
GUY: God bless you.
SERRANO POBLANO: …sits upon his gilded throne! Those visions manifested themselves inside of my own throne earlier today, showing me the weak link of your team. No, it’s not Ozymandias, because he’s still a bad Mother Hubbard that could give the dog a bone. Even that won’t matter, because all I’ll have to do is keep him busy. Just like my boy, Rapture, is gonna give Swindle Shelldrake more than he can handle. Tell ‘em, Rap!
Rapture jogs ahead so that he can be better seen by the camera.
RAPTURE: You said it, Serrano! I’m gonna crack Swindle’s shell, dunk him in garlic butter, and suck out the white meat! I’m such a badass that I won’t even need to wear a bib while I’m doing it. At Proving Ground, Shelldrake is gonna learn what everyone else who’s read the bible already knows…that you can’t avoid the Rapture! Prepare to meet your maker, Kraken!
The masked man flips a blade out of its sheath and takes aim at the nearest over-sized roach, eyeing it with deadly accuracy…
RAPTURE: Fuck! Missed him!
He then goes to retrieve his dagger, once again putting him at the rear of the pack.
SERRANO POBLANO: But that’s not all! Do you think we’re worried about MYOJIN? The Shining Star? The Prince of Constellations? The Master of Mirth? The Flamboyant Frenzy? The Coy Combatant? The Ray of the Rising Sun? The…the…the Emperor…of…Engine Repair? That’s it. I’m all out. Take it away, El Puma!
With Noah Hope still seated on his shoulders, the chubby-yet-sexually-tempting luchador speaks up…
EL PUMA: Supongo que es mi turno. Honestamente, no sé por qué estoy saliendo con estos tipos, pero gano mucho dinero con la noche de la tarjeta. Supongo que nos estamos uniendo esta semana y me han encomendado la tarea de ocupar MYOJIN? Que así sea. Los KaVengers van a perder, pero me aseguraré de que perdamos con estilo. Además, soy el mayor fan de MYOJIN. Por favor, no traduzcas esto para mis socios.
SERRANO POBLANO: Hell yeah! That’s what I love to hear! That brings us to the guy who brought all the weirdos and freaks of Big Drip Worldwide together. Lil’ Petey! What hope do you possibly have when you face…Noah Hope?!
Still seated atop El Puma, Noah leans down slightly as he waves his hand so that he can be picked up by the camera.
NOAH HOPE: Hello!
SERRANO POBLANO: That’s right! That was Noah Hope and he’s gonna kick your scrawny ass, Pete! Can I call you Pete? You know what? I can do anything I put my mind to, and right now I’m putting it toward calling you Pete! Or even Peter! Suck on that, loser!
RAPTURE: Fuck! Missed him!
LARRY KACHOW: OW! What the hell Rapture…?!
SERRANO POBLANO: That brings us to the final member of Petey’s Personal Pumped Up Pricks…TJ Thompson! You see, earlier I mentioned the weak link in your team and told you that we had a divine omen telling us exactly how we’re going to win Proving Ground’s main event! The answer to both of those questions is you, TJ! I’m gonna occupy Ozy, El Puma is gonna mess up MYO, Rapture will swindle Shelldrake, and Noah is gonna puzzle Petey! That just leaves our dear friend and field general, Percival Burque, to tie up Thompson and capture the KaWin for the KaVengers!
As Serrano finishes up his idle threats, the group emerges within the living quarters of the Ratman in question, Percival Burque. Surprised and delighted to have a visit from his friends, Percy rushes toward them.
RATMAN: Friends! What a wonderful surprise! What brings you all here?
SERRANO POBLANO: We have received an omen, Percy! I know exactly how we’re going to win our match at Proving Ground!
Serrano grabs the sack from Guy and goes to the nearest table, setting it down gently. He then removes the plate with great caution, revealing the omen in all its glory.
RATMAN: Did you go fishing without me again?
SERRANO POBLANO: No, friend! Look closer!
Percy leans in to inspect the plate of poo, and just like his comrades discovered earlier in the evening, he has a flash of recognition.
RATMAN: Serrano…that is the hippest poo beast I’ve ever seen!
SERRANO POBLANO: Pardon my French, but you’re goddamn right it is. You might even say this entire experience has been a Big Dump Production…
Percival nods his head and considers things for a moment, eventually stumbling on an idea.
RATMAN: Still, even a good omen may not be enough. Since we’re all here, what do you guys say to some extra training in my practice ring?
The members of the group look around at each other, nodding their heads as they seem to agree with Ratman’s suggestion. After a few moments and amidst jumbled conversation, they finally exit Percy’s living quarters to make their way to the training area.
Moments later, a groggy Rasputin, Percival’s adopted father, wanders into the living area after waking from his nap. He looks around but quickly realizes that he’s all alone. Then, his eyes finally land upon the plate containing the fecal sculpture of TJ Thompson.
RASPUTIN: Spicy Meatloaf! My favorite!
And that, dear friends, is where our story reaches its merciful conclusion.
