Should I Use My Gun?
I started this fic back in November after Linkara's 'Silent Hill' month. I had already found it amusing that Brad sounded angry when he said his line of Linkara's theme song, but then the phone fight where past Snob called Linkara by mistake made me even more amused, so I was inspired to write this. I only finished it now, because I had so many computer and school problems to deal with, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.
The title is from a playing of 2 Line Vocabulary and said by Ryan when he's on safari with Jeff and Colin. I love how Ryan always has guns in so many of his scenes.
Linkara angrily sent off his latest reply to the Cinema Snob, who had been sending increasingly hostile emails for the past few days, and felt his hands clench into fists. He didn’t even understand what had happened between them that warranted such spiteful words. The two had seemed to get along fine during the Molossia invasion, although if Linkara was honest with himself he hadn’t minded too much when the caustic critic had been banished.
But ever since he’d asked the Cinema Snob to record a part of his theme song for his 100th episode, the Chicagoan seemed to become increasingly angry toward the comic book fan. The animosity had grown until the Snob of the past accidentally called Linkara when he was still battling Silent Hill and the two had started shouting at and threatening each other. This one conversation then led to a series of bitter letters from present Snob, which Linkara had responded to with his own harsh words.
“I just don’t know what his problem is,” Linkara muttered to himself as he sat by his computer, still feeling enraged. “It’s like our whole relationship got screwed up because of my asking him to do a cameo or from that accidental phone call-and I don’t even know how that would work! And anyway, who does he think he is, threatening to kick my ass! Hah! As if that out-of-shape exploitation-loving weirdo could!”
Just then there came a reply to his latest letter. Linkara opened the email with a hardened expression and read the Snob’s newest message. “I don’t have to take these petty insults from some comic book-reading dork, thank you very much,” he read aloud, his tone growing angrier with each word. “I’m going to come to whatever hick-town you reside in and kick your ass!”
“Oh really?” Linkara replied aloud as he typed his response. “Go right ahead. I’ll be ready for you.” He sent this last letter and stood up forcefully. “Hey, Pollo! Gather everyone together! We’ve got a battle to prepare for!”
----
A few days later Linkara was pacing around his review room with his hands in his pockets. This was the day the Cinema Snob had promised to come and ‘kick his ass’, the thought of which made Linkara openly scoff. He was a Starfleet Commander and a Power Ranger, for goodness sake! There was no way someone who couldn’t even use a straw properly would be able to defeat him.
The doorbell chimed then, startling Linkara, but he quickly composed himself and turned toward the door with a look of determination.
“Pollo, get ready.” The little blue robot entered the room as he watched the comic lover head toward the door.
“Please, Linkara, reconsider this,” he said in his monotonic voice. “Fighting with your friends won’t solve your problems.”
“I’ve tried to be reasonable with him,” Linkara replied, his hand already reaching for the knob. “And once reason fails to work, brute force is your only choice.” Pollo sighed but prepared himself for whatever was going to occur that afternoon.
“Well, well, well, there he is.” Cinema Snob stood with a smug expression as he eyed his opponent from head to toe. Linkara did the same, rolling his eyes at the fact that the older man was still wearing a black suit jacket and was even now barefoot. “So this is the dork who thinks he can take down a critic of my caliber and refined taste.”
“Oh, blow it out your ass,” Linkara replied, already feeling the anger spread through his chest. “Do you really think you have what it takes to do battle with me?”
“The only battles I engage in are battles of wit, thank you very much,” Cinema Snob said with an air of snootiness usually found in a French restaurant. “That’s why I brought him.” He stepped aside to reveal a man in a red karate outfit with a piano-patterned tie for a headband.
“Greetings,” the man said, somehow making his voice not match up with the ways his lips moved. “I am Kung Tai Ted and I have been asked to defend my honor.” Linkara smirked, having expected this move.
“Ok, so you found a little muscle. That doesn’t mean he’ll be any match for the Ninja-Style Dancer!” A puff of smoke suddenly filled the living room, which led to a bought of coughing from Linkara and the Snob, before the black-clad man of silence appeared. He held up a white piece of paper with black marker writing upon it.
“I am here to accept your challenge.” Kung-Tai Ted gave a curt nod toward the ninja.
“Then let us enter the back yard of combat, fellow warrior.” Ninja-Style Dancer revealed a new piece of paper reading “You’re on.” and the two swiftly headed toward the back of the house.
“Be careful not to destroy the lawn,” Linkara called before they disappeared. Then he turned back to the Cinema Snob. “So, now that your back-up is indisposed, why don’t you and I have our own duel?”
“That is not the only person I brought for support,” the Snob replied while adjusting his surprisingly large glasses. “Be prepared to face off with the New-Coke loving man himself, 80’s Dan!” Somehow the refrain from ‘Take On Me’ started blasting through the air as a smiling guy with huge sunglasses, a beige suit jacket, and jeans strolled into the room.
“I brought my Nintendo!” Dan announced with a smile while holding up his beloved gaming system.
“Duuuuuuuuuuuuude! Is that my bro 80’s Dan?” 90’s Kid, accompanied by his usual blast of Nirvana music, sauntered into the living room and offered the smiling man a friendly hug. “I haven’t seen you in like forever, man! Oh, and you brought gamage? Awesome! Come on, let’s get our fight on!”
“Rad,” 80’s Dan said before following the extreme kid into the guest room Linkara allowed him to stay in sometimes.
“Ugh, I really hate that idiot sometimes,” the Snob remarked after the music finally disappeared.
“Linkara, I must ask you once again to reconsider,” Pollo said, trying to serve as the voice of reason. The Cinema Snob noticed his existence just that second and peered at the robot in surprise.
“Whoa, where did you find R.O.B. the robot’s inbred cousin?” Pollo stared at the older man in silence for a moment.
“Ok, kick his ass,” he finally said before walking away.
“Don’t worry, I plan to,” Linkara said while adjusting his hat. Cinema Snob rolled his eyes.
“Oh really? You honestly believe I can be taken down by a loser who thinks he has a harder job reviewing his little comic books than the shot-on-shitteo pieces of crap I have to suffer through every week?”
“Please,” Linkara scoffed. “You watch those terrible exploitation movies by choice-and they’re supposed to be awful and offensive! I, on the other hand, am taken by surprise and complete horror when I stumble across a comic that’s so sucky it deserves to be burnt into a pile of ashes! I mean look at these issues of ‘Action Comics’ numbers 592 and 593!” Linkara grabbed said issues of off his ‘bad-comic’ shelf and shoved them into the Snob’s hands. “Here I was forced to witness Big Barda, a badass heroine, and Superman, one of the world’s most iconic and beloved characters, become roofied so they can make a disgusting rape-porn film! This is not why I read comics!”
“As distasteful as this is,” the Snob said after thumbing through the comics with an expression of revulsion, “that’s nothing compared to the garbage I have to watch. Ever heard of ‘Bathman del pianeta Eros’, aka ‘Italian Batman’?”
“Well, no,” Linkara admitted.
“Oh ho, then are you in for a treat,” the older man said as he walked toward Linkara’s laptop. He pulled back open one side of his suit jacket to reveal several discs held inside a secret pocket. “Just feast your eyes on this.” Cinema Snob slipped one disc in the computer and stood back to watch as Linkara viewed the film. It didn’t take long for his mouth to drop open.
“That’s supposed to be Batman? But he has a porn-stache! And he can’t ride a bicycle! And Robin is having a lesbian experience while the Silver Surfer invades and the Penguin is… What, what, what is this?”
“Not so easy a job now, is it?” the Snob replied with another smirk. Linkara slapped his cheek and brought himself back to reality.
“Ok, it’s awful, but it still doesn’t match the horror of forcing two superheroes to sleep with each other for no reason! What if there was a movie about Pierre Kirby being drugged and forced to sleep with someone against his will?”
“How dare you insult the honor of the great Pierre Kirby!” The Cinema Snob was fuming now as he reached back into his jacket to pull out more movies. “This means war!” Linkara smiled with satisfaction at that reaction and strolled over to his shelves of comics.
“Fine with me.”
-------
Out in the yard, Kung Tai Ted and Ninja-Style Dancer stood opposite each other, sweating heavily and panting in result of their fierce battle.
“You are as fearsome as I had heard,” Ted said, his stilted voice carrying a note of respect toward the man clad in black. “I have studied the techniques of many a ninja but I was not prepared for the speediness of your moves.” Ninja-Style Dancer had been forced to break out all of his dance steps to evade the deadly punches and kicks of his foe; even the lethal ‘Caramelldansen’ final attack had brought Ted to his knees for merely a moment.
“You are also a foe to fear.” Ninja-Style Dancer wrote on his card. “But let us end this battle once and for all.”
“I concur.” The two straightened up before moving into their final stances. “Prepare to face my furious punches which make sounds even when I only hit air!” Ted swung his fists wildly through the air, causing an excess of smacks to reverberate throughout the yard. He charged at the ninja, crying out and still swinging, but almost fell over in shock when he saw Ninja-Style Dancer perform a few hands seals before pulling a sword out from a puff of smoke that appeared without warning.
“Oh shit!” Ted managed to halt his charge before he was run through by the dancer’s blade. With one hand he pulled off the keyboard-patterned headband he always wore and flung it lasso-style at the ninja. It looped around the blade and Ted tugged, hoping to pry it from his enemy’s grip. Ninja-Style Dancer tried to pull his weapon back but Ted’s grip was too strong and soon enough the men were at a standstill.
“I suppose… this is a draw.” Ninja-Style Dancer pulled this card also from thin air.
“Oh, all right.” Ted loosened his grip and pulled his headband back while the dancer made his sword vanish. “I can say with full confidence that you are indeed a worthy opponent for a disciple of Master Kempo Dojo.”
“As are you.” The two men approached each other and bowed in respect of their battle.
“Say, would you mind showing me how you make things appear from nowhere?” Ted asked. “I have many enemies wishing to challenge me and some have freaky powers which will likely kill me. I could use an advantage like yours.” Behind his face mask, Ninja-Style Dancer smiled.
“It would be my honor to teach you.”
-------
“Ever try watching ‘Dolemite’?” the Snob said as the classic blacksploitation film blared from the monitor of Linkara’s laptop. “The only movie where a boom mic has enough screen time to warrant being listed in the cast of characters? Or how about,” he deftly typed something and pulled up another movie, “a flick called ‘Hell’s Bloody Devils’? This little masterpiece features a baffling cameo by one Colonel Sanders.” Linkara forced himself to look away from the southern gentleman who was conversing with a group of bikers about his secret recipe and tugged a few comics free from the shelf.
“That’s nothing. You haven’t seen crappy product placement and nonsense until you see Tony the Tiger help a kid play baseball and a whole frigging comic about the heroic life of the Kool-Aid Man!”
“The… Kool-Aid Man?” The Snob forced himself to thoroughly examine the comic while Linkara was once again drawn to the computer as he watched Dolemite shoot in one direction and miraculously hit people nowhere near him.
-----
In the game room, 80’s Dan and 90’s Kid were having a great time playing Mario games, blasting rock music, and chugging pixie sticks.
“Whoa, I totally love sugar!” 90’s Kid declared while thrusting his candy-clenching fist in the air. A hefty amount of the sugary treat was sent flying onto Linkara’s coffee table and 80’s Dan looked down at it fondly.
“Aw, yes, how familiar it is to see piles of white powder decorating the furniture of strangers,” he mused while remembering several illegal parties he’d attended. “Sometimes I really miss being in the 80’s.”
“You do?” 90’s Kid had dropped his pixie stick and was looking at his friend with slight concern.
“Well, sometimes,” 80’s Dan admitted as he shifted in his seat on the couch. “Before I got trapped in limbo for twenty years, I used to have some amazing times with my 80’s buddies. We’d dress up in our colorful suits with extremely narrow ties, do a few lines of coke, and then rock out at a club to some Devo.” 90’s Kid nodded along, even though he honestly didn’t understand much of what the other man was saying. “And nowadays, guys just want to dress in their black suits, grab a cappuccino, and talk on their ridiculously small phones,” 80’s Dan finished with a frown. “It’s all just so hard to get used to, sometimes.”
“Yeah, the 2000s are kind of a buzzkill,” 90’s Kid admitted as he scratched his chin. “Everybody would rather play on their computers and listen to that whiny music than catch some hardcore tunes and play Sonic. But it’s, like, not all bad. Linkara and Pollo are usually awesome, and Ninja-Style Dancer is totally up for gaming with me as long as I do some dance junk with him later.”
“Yeah, this time isn’t so bad,” 80’s Dan agreed. “As much as I loved the 80’s, I would miss living with Dolly and R.O.B if I went back there now.”
“Tubular,” 90’s Kid said while lowering his shades so that he could look his friend in the eye. They grinned at each other and then 80’s Dan reached into an inner pocket of his pale suit jacket.
“Want to play ‘Mike Tyson’s Punch Out’?” 90’s Kid leapt up to insert the cartridge.
“Duuuuude, punching people is awesome!”
-----
“Ok, how about I show you two abominations that tried to turn a beloved video games into porn series?” The Snob was sitting in a chair now and wiping the sweat from his brow every so often with a handkerchief. He fumbled with the laptop for a moment before the horrendously titled ‘Super Hornio Brothers 1 & 2’ started playing simultaneously. Linkara, who was leaning heavily against his shelves so as to remain upright, stared at the monitor in horror.
“They didn’t even give the characters the correct parody names!” he howled as the green-clad Hornio talked to the red-clad Squeegie.
“I know, right!” the Snob agreed. “And you don’t even want to see how they liberated the princess!” Linkara shut his eyes in horror at the grotesque scenes before him.
“No, wait, you can’t give up yet,” a voice in his mind reprimanded. “You’ve survived worse comics than this!” Forcing his eyes open, Linkara pulled himself fully upright and searched his collection before finding the two series that made his smile grow wicked.
“You think you have the monopoly on stories that ruined beloved video games?” he asked as he staggered over to the Snob, who was again wiping his brow. “Then take a gander at ‘Dying Inside’ and ‘Dead/Alive’, two series which completely butchered the ‘Silent Hill’ series.”
“Oh, that’s that game Phelous was telling me about when we were filming our ‘Troll 4’ review,” the Snob said with a small smile.
“Yeah, well, these pieces of crap wouldn’t even be recognized by him as belonging to the world of his favorite game series.” Linkara lowered himself into a chair beside the older critic and watched as he leafed through the books.
“Oh Christ, this art-this can’t even be deemed art! And this horrible little troll calling herself a girl is an abomination! Please tell me the town swallows her whole,” he asked with a hint of desperation in his eyes.
“Believe me, if Christabella had bit it, I would be dancing the can-can and singing ‘Hallelujah’,” Linkara admitted with sigh. As the Snob’s mutterings evolved into several strings of curse words, the comic lover glanced back at the monitor and tried to stop himself from puking at the sight of a pants-less Squeegie.
------
Harvey Finevoice, having finished his latest singing gig, strolled up the driveway of Linkara’s house. Although it wasn’t really his style to room with kids, he had grown fond of the comic lover and his many companions, even if they did usually drop by without warning.
“Harvey, I’m glad you’re here.” The singer paused when he realized Pollo was standing beside the front door.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he walked over to the little blue robot.
“Linkara and the Cinema Snob are engaging in a battle and he didn’t want me to become involved,” Pollo tried to explain. Harvey frowned at this news.
“Why would the Kid be fighting with one of his computer buddies?”
“I don’t really know,” Pollo admitted. “One minute they were friends, and the next enemies.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Harvey admitted, his brows creasing in concern. “I think I should go in there and check on how the Kid’s doing. He may need back-up.”
“But Linkara said he wanted to fight this battle on his own,” Pollo protested. “He may be upset if we interfere.” Harvey sighed and reached for his cigarettes.
“All right, I’ll wait for now. But if those two don’t settle things soon, I’m going in there no matter what you say.”
------
“ ‘Batman: Fortunate Son’-despite knowing nothing about music, Batman hates rock-and-roll.”
“ ‘Superman: The Musical’-it was a fucking musical!”
“ ‘Sultry Teenage Super Foxes’-they had an alchemy machine and didn’t use it!”
“ ‘Chatterbox’ and ‘Pussy Talk’-two separate movies where a woman’s pussy, well, talks!”
“‘Amazons Attack’-a story about Wonder Woman without Wonder Woman, the destruction of the Amazons, and existing only as a tie-in to one of the worst piles of crap that ever came out of DC!”
“ ‘Violent Shit 1 &2’-I think actual pieces of shit would have been better to stare at for 80 minutes than these movies!”
Cinema Snob was slumped low in the chair now, his suit jacket gone and his hands almost touching the floor as they dangled haphazardly from his arms, while Linkara was slumping on the floor, hat and jacket in a pile beside him, with his back pressed against the wall for some brief sense of support. It had been several hours and the two critics had been hurtling the worst of their respective repertoires almost non-stop.
“An innocent child is murdered for no reason other than shock value and to turn her unique superhero father into a drug-addicted mess of a man!”
“Crazy Fat Ethel chases people in circles and murders with no rhyme or reason in multiple movies that use the same shitty footage to make up at least half the run-time in some cases!”
“A SUPERHERO MAKES A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL TO ERASE HIS MARRIAGE SO THAT HE CAN SAVE HIS ELDERLY FROM A BULLET WOUND THAT COULDN’T BE HEALED BY THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS IN THE MULTIVERSE!”
“PEOPLE FUCKED GOATS!”
The two were panting heavily now, both soaked with sweat and barely able to see straight. Linkara pulled off his glasses and ran a hand across his eyes to wipe the sweat away before noticing that the Snob was doing the same. They stared at each other for a moment, each breathing heavily, before the older man spoke.
“We can’t… keep doing this,” he panted. Linkara nodded in agreement.
“This battle must end.” He reached for his hat and slipped it back onto his head before shakily pulling himself to his feet. “Let’s each take the worst thing we’ve seen and show it to the other, and see who will be the last reviewer standing.” Cinema Snob struggled up into his previous sitting position and slipped his jacket on once again.
“Agreed. You show me the comic that makes you ill and I’ll show you a movie that will triple those feelings of revulsion.” Linkara smiled and reached for a particular shelf while the Snob pulled out an ornate box from another secret pocket.
“Deal.”
---
“I can’t take it anymore,” Harvey exclaimed after finishing his third cigarette. “It’s been a half-hour and I haven’t heard a peep from them for the past ten minutes. I’m going in.” He adjusted his hat and stormed toward the front door, Pollo right beside him, before pushing it open with great enthusiasm. “Hey Kid, I’m back. I just wanted to see…” Harvey trailed off as he took in the scene before him.
On the right side of the room lay Linkara, who was clutching Bear to his chest and slowly rocking back and forth, while muttering incomprehensible things like, “No more sex”, “You can’t decapitate a person like that”, and “Dance! Dance for the horse!” On the left side of the room the Cinema Snob fared no better, as he had pulled his legs under his chin and was caressing an empty bottle of Crystal Pepsi to his cheek.
“I’ve seen black devil dolls from hell, a bed that gets off on and then eats people, and even a porno where ET gets fucked by a bunch of amazingly xenophilic people, but I have never seen a greater waste of time, space, and the creativity of the human race than what was presented in that comic. The abominable artwork, the unrelenting paragraphs of gibberish, the violation of Santa Claus! Oh ‘Caligula’, please return me to a world that makes sense and where ‘destrucity’ is not a word!” As he reached out longingly for the laptop, which currently showed two women engaged in rather intimate activities, the screen was swiftly closed by Harvey.
“I don’t know what you two have been doing and I don’t want to know,” the singer told them in a stern tone. “All I want is to make sure this stops right here, right now, capice?”
“Don’t worry, Harvey.” Linkara had managed to stop rolling and stared up at the singer with eyes that weren’t entirely focused. “We’ve had enough.”
“God yes,” the Snob responded as he pocketed his precious bottle. “I can’t take any more of this nightmare. Why are we even wasting our time with this shit?”
“I don’t know,” Linkara admitted while placing Bear back into his usual spot. “I don’t even know why we were fighting in the first place.”
“Yeah, me neither.” The Snob rubbed his head and pondered for a moment. “I really enjoyed when we flew to Nevada together and you bought me a cookie.”
“That was fun,” Linkara agreed with a smile. “And I did feel bad when you were banished.”
“Yeah, the Critic was a real dick then,” the Snob derided. “Anyway, why don’t we just put this whole fight behind us and start over as fellow internet reviewers.” He stuck out his hand and Linkara quickly shook it.
“Good idea. Although, I do have one question.”
“What?”
“Why did you sound so angry when you sang that line of my theme song in my 100th episode? I didn’t mean to impose on you when I asked for your help.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” the Snob said with a dismissive wave. “It’s just that… you always get the best props in your videos! You not only have a magical gun, and Star Trek weapons, but Power Ranger Megazords and a talking robot! And what do I have? Straws and a fucking Bigfoot costume.”
“Wow. I never thought a reviewer as great as you would be jealous of a geek like me,” Linkara admitted.
“Hey, we’re all geeks in our own ways,” the Snob said, now smiling himself.
“You’re right. And hey, if you ever want to borrow one of my props for a review, just say the word.”
“And if you ever want a bottle of Crystal Pepsi that’s over a decade old, I’m your man.” The critics shook hands once more and vowed never to fight again, unless they were somehow pitted against each other by the sinister machinations of the Nostalgia Critic. But how likely was that to happen again?
The title is from a playing of 2 Line Vocabulary and said by Ryan when he's on safari with Jeff and Colin. I love how Ryan always has guns in so many of his scenes.
Linkara angrily sent off his latest reply to the Cinema Snob, who had been sending increasingly hostile emails for the past few days, and felt his hands clench into fists. He didn’t even understand what had happened between them that warranted such spiteful words. The two had seemed to get along fine during the Molossia invasion, although if Linkara was honest with himself he hadn’t minded too much when the caustic critic had been banished.
But ever since he’d asked the Cinema Snob to record a part of his theme song for his 100th episode, the Chicagoan seemed to become increasingly angry toward the comic book fan. The animosity had grown until the Snob of the past accidentally called Linkara when he was still battling Silent Hill and the two had started shouting at and threatening each other. This one conversation then led to a series of bitter letters from present Snob, which Linkara had responded to with his own harsh words.
“I just don’t know what his problem is,” Linkara muttered to himself as he sat by his computer, still feeling enraged. “It’s like our whole relationship got screwed up because of my asking him to do a cameo or from that accidental phone call-and I don’t even know how that would work! And anyway, who does he think he is, threatening to kick my ass! Hah! As if that out-of-shape exploitation-loving weirdo could!”
Just then there came a reply to his latest letter. Linkara opened the email with a hardened expression and read the Snob’s newest message. “I don’t have to take these petty insults from some comic book-reading dork, thank you very much,” he read aloud, his tone growing angrier with each word. “I’m going to come to whatever hick-town you reside in and kick your ass!”
“Oh really?” Linkara replied aloud as he typed his response. “Go right ahead. I’ll be ready for you.” He sent this last letter and stood up forcefully. “Hey, Pollo! Gather everyone together! We’ve got a battle to prepare for!”
----
A few days later Linkara was pacing around his review room with his hands in his pockets. This was the day the Cinema Snob had promised to come and ‘kick his ass’, the thought of which made Linkara openly scoff. He was a Starfleet Commander and a Power Ranger, for goodness sake! There was no way someone who couldn’t even use a straw properly would be able to defeat him.
The doorbell chimed then, startling Linkara, but he quickly composed himself and turned toward the door with a look of determination.
“Pollo, get ready.” The little blue robot entered the room as he watched the comic lover head toward the door.
“Please, Linkara, reconsider this,” he said in his monotonic voice. “Fighting with your friends won’t solve your problems.”
“I’ve tried to be reasonable with him,” Linkara replied, his hand already reaching for the knob. “And once reason fails to work, brute force is your only choice.” Pollo sighed but prepared himself for whatever was going to occur that afternoon.
“Well, well, well, there he is.” Cinema Snob stood with a smug expression as he eyed his opponent from head to toe. Linkara did the same, rolling his eyes at the fact that the older man was still wearing a black suit jacket and was even now barefoot. “So this is the dork who thinks he can take down a critic of my caliber and refined taste.”
“Oh, blow it out your ass,” Linkara replied, already feeling the anger spread through his chest. “Do you really think you have what it takes to do battle with me?”
“The only battles I engage in are battles of wit, thank you very much,” Cinema Snob said with an air of snootiness usually found in a French restaurant. “That’s why I brought him.” He stepped aside to reveal a man in a red karate outfit with a piano-patterned tie for a headband.
“Greetings,” the man said, somehow making his voice not match up with the ways his lips moved. “I am Kung Tai Ted and I have been asked to defend my honor.” Linkara smirked, having expected this move.
“Ok, so you found a little muscle. That doesn’t mean he’ll be any match for the Ninja-Style Dancer!” A puff of smoke suddenly filled the living room, which led to a bought of coughing from Linkara and the Snob, before the black-clad man of silence appeared. He held up a white piece of paper with black marker writing upon it.
“I am here to accept your challenge.” Kung-Tai Ted gave a curt nod toward the ninja.
“Then let us enter the back yard of combat, fellow warrior.” Ninja-Style Dancer revealed a new piece of paper reading “You’re on.” and the two swiftly headed toward the back of the house.
“Be careful not to destroy the lawn,” Linkara called before they disappeared. Then he turned back to the Cinema Snob. “So, now that your back-up is indisposed, why don’t you and I have our own duel?”
“That is not the only person I brought for support,” the Snob replied while adjusting his surprisingly large glasses. “Be prepared to face off with the New-Coke loving man himself, 80’s Dan!” Somehow the refrain from ‘Take On Me’ started blasting through the air as a smiling guy with huge sunglasses, a beige suit jacket, and jeans strolled into the room.
“I brought my Nintendo!” Dan announced with a smile while holding up his beloved gaming system.
“Duuuuuuuuuuuuude! Is that my bro 80’s Dan?” 90’s Kid, accompanied by his usual blast of Nirvana music, sauntered into the living room and offered the smiling man a friendly hug. “I haven’t seen you in like forever, man! Oh, and you brought gamage? Awesome! Come on, let’s get our fight on!”
“Rad,” 80’s Dan said before following the extreme kid into the guest room Linkara allowed him to stay in sometimes.
“Ugh, I really hate that idiot sometimes,” the Snob remarked after the music finally disappeared.
“Linkara, I must ask you once again to reconsider,” Pollo said, trying to serve as the voice of reason. The Cinema Snob noticed his existence just that second and peered at the robot in surprise.
“Whoa, where did you find R.O.B. the robot’s inbred cousin?” Pollo stared at the older man in silence for a moment.
“Ok, kick his ass,” he finally said before walking away.
“Don’t worry, I plan to,” Linkara said while adjusting his hat. Cinema Snob rolled his eyes.
“Oh really? You honestly believe I can be taken down by a loser who thinks he has a harder job reviewing his little comic books than the shot-on-shitteo pieces of crap I have to suffer through every week?”
“Please,” Linkara scoffed. “You watch those terrible exploitation movies by choice-and they’re supposed to be awful and offensive! I, on the other hand, am taken by surprise and complete horror when I stumble across a comic that’s so sucky it deserves to be burnt into a pile of ashes! I mean look at these issues of ‘Action Comics’ numbers 592 and 593!” Linkara grabbed said issues of off his ‘bad-comic’ shelf and shoved them into the Snob’s hands. “Here I was forced to witness Big Barda, a badass heroine, and Superman, one of the world’s most iconic and beloved characters, become roofied so they can make a disgusting rape-porn film! This is not why I read comics!”
“As distasteful as this is,” the Snob said after thumbing through the comics with an expression of revulsion, “that’s nothing compared to the garbage I have to watch. Ever heard of ‘Bathman del pianeta Eros’, aka ‘Italian Batman’?”
“Well, no,” Linkara admitted.
“Oh ho, then are you in for a treat,” the older man said as he walked toward Linkara’s laptop. He pulled back open one side of his suit jacket to reveal several discs held inside a secret pocket. “Just feast your eyes on this.” Cinema Snob slipped one disc in the computer and stood back to watch as Linkara viewed the film. It didn’t take long for his mouth to drop open.
“That’s supposed to be Batman? But he has a porn-stache! And he can’t ride a bicycle! And Robin is having a lesbian experience while the Silver Surfer invades and the Penguin is… What, what, what is this?”
“Not so easy a job now, is it?” the Snob replied with another smirk. Linkara slapped his cheek and brought himself back to reality.
“Ok, it’s awful, but it still doesn’t match the horror of forcing two superheroes to sleep with each other for no reason! What if there was a movie about Pierre Kirby being drugged and forced to sleep with someone against his will?”
“How dare you insult the honor of the great Pierre Kirby!” The Cinema Snob was fuming now as he reached back into his jacket to pull out more movies. “This means war!” Linkara smiled with satisfaction at that reaction and strolled over to his shelves of comics.
“Fine with me.”
-------
Out in the yard, Kung Tai Ted and Ninja-Style Dancer stood opposite each other, sweating heavily and panting in result of their fierce battle.
“You are as fearsome as I had heard,” Ted said, his stilted voice carrying a note of respect toward the man clad in black. “I have studied the techniques of many a ninja but I was not prepared for the speediness of your moves.” Ninja-Style Dancer had been forced to break out all of his dance steps to evade the deadly punches and kicks of his foe; even the lethal ‘Caramelldansen’ final attack had brought Ted to his knees for merely a moment.
“You are also a foe to fear.” Ninja-Style Dancer wrote on his card. “But let us end this battle once and for all.”
“I concur.” The two straightened up before moving into their final stances. “Prepare to face my furious punches which make sounds even when I only hit air!” Ted swung his fists wildly through the air, causing an excess of smacks to reverberate throughout the yard. He charged at the ninja, crying out and still swinging, but almost fell over in shock when he saw Ninja-Style Dancer perform a few hands seals before pulling a sword out from a puff of smoke that appeared without warning.
“Oh shit!” Ted managed to halt his charge before he was run through by the dancer’s blade. With one hand he pulled off the keyboard-patterned headband he always wore and flung it lasso-style at the ninja. It looped around the blade and Ted tugged, hoping to pry it from his enemy’s grip. Ninja-Style Dancer tried to pull his weapon back but Ted’s grip was too strong and soon enough the men were at a standstill.
“I suppose… this is a draw.” Ninja-Style Dancer pulled this card also from thin air.
“Oh, all right.” Ted loosened his grip and pulled his headband back while the dancer made his sword vanish. “I can say with full confidence that you are indeed a worthy opponent for a disciple of Master Kempo Dojo.”
“As are you.” The two men approached each other and bowed in respect of their battle.
“Say, would you mind showing me how you make things appear from nowhere?” Ted asked. “I have many enemies wishing to challenge me and some have freaky powers which will likely kill me. I could use an advantage like yours.” Behind his face mask, Ninja-Style Dancer smiled.
“It would be my honor to teach you.”
-------
“Ever try watching ‘Dolemite’?” the Snob said as the classic blacksploitation film blared from the monitor of Linkara’s laptop. “The only movie where a boom mic has enough screen time to warrant being listed in the cast of characters? Or how about,” he deftly typed something and pulled up another movie, “a flick called ‘Hell’s Bloody Devils’? This little masterpiece features a baffling cameo by one Colonel Sanders.” Linkara forced himself to look away from the southern gentleman who was conversing with a group of bikers about his secret recipe and tugged a few comics free from the shelf.
“That’s nothing. You haven’t seen crappy product placement and nonsense until you see Tony the Tiger help a kid play baseball and a whole frigging comic about the heroic life of the Kool-Aid Man!”
“The… Kool-Aid Man?” The Snob forced himself to thoroughly examine the comic while Linkara was once again drawn to the computer as he watched Dolemite shoot in one direction and miraculously hit people nowhere near him.
-----
In the game room, 80’s Dan and 90’s Kid were having a great time playing Mario games, blasting rock music, and chugging pixie sticks.
“Whoa, I totally love sugar!” 90’s Kid declared while thrusting his candy-clenching fist in the air. A hefty amount of the sugary treat was sent flying onto Linkara’s coffee table and 80’s Dan looked down at it fondly.
“Aw, yes, how familiar it is to see piles of white powder decorating the furniture of strangers,” he mused while remembering several illegal parties he’d attended. “Sometimes I really miss being in the 80’s.”
“You do?” 90’s Kid had dropped his pixie stick and was looking at his friend with slight concern.
“Well, sometimes,” 80’s Dan admitted as he shifted in his seat on the couch. “Before I got trapped in limbo for twenty years, I used to have some amazing times with my 80’s buddies. We’d dress up in our colorful suits with extremely narrow ties, do a few lines of coke, and then rock out at a club to some Devo.” 90’s Kid nodded along, even though he honestly didn’t understand much of what the other man was saying. “And nowadays, guys just want to dress in their black suits, grab a cappuccino, and talk on their ridiculously small phones,” 80’s Dan finished with a frown. “It’s all just so hard to get used to, sometimes.”
“Yeah, the 2000s are kind of a buzzkill,” 90’s Kid admitted as he scratched his chin. “Everybody would rather play on their computers and listen to that whiny music than catch some hardcore tunes and play Sonic. But it’s, like, not all bad. Linkara and Pollo are usually awesome, and Ninja-Style Dancer is totally up for gaming with me as long as I do some dance junk with him later.”
“Yeah, this time isn’t so bad,” 80’s Dan agreed. “As much as I loved the 80’s, I would miss living with Dolly and R.O.B if I went back there now.”
“Tubular,” 90’s Kid said while lowering his shades so that he could look his friend in the eye. They grinned at each other and then 80’s Dan reached into an inner pocket of his pale suit jacket.
“Want to play ‘Mike Tyson’s Punch Out’?” 90’s Kid leapt up to insert the cartridge.
“Duuuuude, punching people is awesome!”
-----
“Ok, how about I show you two abominations that tried to turn a beloved video games into porn series?” The Snob was sitting in a chair now and wiping the sweat from his brow every so often with a handkerchief. He fumbled with the laptop for a moment before the horrendously titled ‘Super Hornio Brothers 1 & 2’ started playing simultaneously. Linkara, who was leaning heavily against his shelves so as to remain upright, stared at the monitor in horror.
“They didn’t even give the characters the correct parody names!” he howled as the green-clad Hornio talked to the red-clad Squeegie.
“I know, right!” the Snob agreed. “And you don’t even want to see how they liberated the princess!” Linkara shut his eyes in horror at the grotesque scenes before him.
“No, wait, you can’t give up yet,” a voice in his mind reprimanded. “You’ve survived worse comics than this!” Forcing his eyes open, Linkara pulled himself fully upright and searched his collection before finding the two series that made his smile grow wicked.
“You think you have the monopoly on stories that ruined beloved video games?” he asked as he staggered over to the Snob, who was again wiping his brow. “Then take a gander at ‘Dying Inside’ and ‘Dead/Alive’, two series which completely butchered the ‘Silent Hill’ series.”
“Oh, that’s that game Phelous was telling me about when we were filming our ‘Troll 4’ review,” the Snob said with a small smile.
“Yeah, well, these pieces of crap wouldn’t even be recognized by him as belonging to the world of his favorite game series.” Linkara lowered himself into a chair beside the older critic and watched as he leafed through the books.
“Oh Christ, this art-this can’t even be deemed art! And this horrible little troll calling herself a girl is an abomination! Please tell me the town swallows her whole,” he asked with a hint of desperation in his eyes.
“Believe me, if Christabella had bit it, I would be dancing the can-can and singing ‘Hallelujah’,” Linkara admitted with sigh. As the Snob’s mutterings evolved into several strings of curse words, the comic lover glanced back at the monitor and tried to stop himself from puking at the sight of a pants-less Squeegie.
------
Harvey Finevoice, having finished his latest singing gig, strolled up the driveway of Linkara’s house. Although it wasn’t really his style to room with kids, he had grown fond of the comic lover and his many companions, even if they did usually drop by without warning.
“Harvey, I’m glad you’re here.” The singer paused when he realized Pollo was standing beside the front door.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he walked over to the little blue robot.
“Linkara and the Cinema Snob are engaging in a battle and he didn’t want me to become involved,” Pollo tried to explain. Harvey frowned at this news.
“Why would the Kid be fighting with one of his computer buddies?”
“I don’t really know,” Pollo admitted. “One minute they were friends, and the next enemies.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Harvey admitted, his brows creasing in concern. “I think I should go in there and check on how the Kid’s doing. He may need back-up.”
“But Linkara said he wanted to fight this battle on his own,” Pollo protested. “He may be upset if we interfere.” Harvey sighed and reached for his cigarettes.
“All right, I’ll wait for now. But if those two don’t settle things soon, I’m going in there no matter what you say.”
------
“ ‘Batman: Fortunate Son’-despite knowing nothing about music, Batman hates rock-and-roll.”
“ ‘Superman: The Musical’-it was a fucking musical!”
“ ‘Sultry Teenage Super Foxes’-they had an alchemy machine and didn’t use it!”
“ ‘Chatterbox’ and ‘Pussy Talk’-two separate movies where a woman’s pussy, well, talks!”
“‘Amazons Attack’-a story about Wonder Woman without Wonder Woman, the destruction of the Amazons, and existing only as a tie-in to one of the worst piles of crap that ever came out of DC!”
“ ‘Violent Shit 1 &2’-I think actual pieces of shit would have been better to stare at for 80 minutes than these movies!”
Cinema Snob was slumped low in the chair now, his suit jacket gone and his hands almost touching the floor as they dangled haphazardly from his arms, while Linkara was slumping on the floor, hat and jacket in a pile beside him, with his back pressed against the wall for some brief sense of support. It had been several hours and the two critics had been hurtling the worst of their respective repertoires almost non-stop.
“An innocent child is murdered for no reason other than shock value and to turn her unique superhero father into a drug-addicted mess of a man!”
“Crazy Fat Ethel chases people in circles and murders with no rhyme or reason in multiple movies that use the same shitty footage to make up at least half the run-time in some cases!”
“A SUPERHERO MAKES A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL TO ERASE HIS MARRIAGE SO THAT HE CAN SAVE HIS ELDERLY FROM A BULLET WOUND THAT COULDN’T BE HEALED BY THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS IN THE MULTIVERSE!”
“PEOPLE FUCKED GOATS!”
The two were panting heavily now, both soaked with sweat and barely able to see straight. Linkara pulled off his glasses and ran a hand across his eyes to wipe the sweat away before noticing that the Snob was doing the same. They stared at each other for a moment, each breathing heavily, before the older man spoke.
“We can’t… keep doing this,” he panted. Linkara nodded in agreement.
“This battle must end.” He reached for his hat and slipped it back onto his head before shakily pulling himself to his feet. “Let’s each take the worst thing we’ve seen and show it to the other, and see who will be the last reviewer standing.” Cinema Snob struggled up into his previous sitting position and slipped his jacket on once again.
“Agreed. You show me the comic that makes you ill and I’ll show you a movie that will triple those feelings of revulsion.” Linkara smiled and reached for a particular shelf while the Snob pulled out an ornate box from another secret pocket.
“Deal.”
---
“I can’t take it anymore,” Harvey exclaimed after finishing his third cigarette. “It’s been a half-hour and I haven’t heard a peep from them for the past ten minutes. I’m going in.” He adjusted his hat and stormed toward the front door, Pollo right beside him, before pushing it open with great enthusiasm. “Hey Kid, I’m back. I just wanted to see…” Harvey trailed off as he took in the scene before him.
On the right side of the room lay Linkara, who was clutching Bear to his chest and slowly rocking back and forth, while muttering incomprehensible things like, “No more sex”, “You can’t decapitate a person like that”, and “Dance! Dance for the horse!” On the left side of the room the Cinema Snob fared no better, as he had pulled his legs under his chin and was caressing an empty bottle of Crystal Pepsi to his cheek.
“I’ve seen black devil dolls from hell, a bed that gets off on and then eats people, and even a porno where ET gets fucked by a bunch of amazingly xenophilic people, but I have never seen a greater waste of time, space, and the creativity of the human race than what was presented in that comic. The abominable artwork, the unrelenting paragraphs of gibberish, the violation of Santa Claus! Oh ‘Caligula’, please return me to a world that makes sense and where ‘destrucity’ is not a word!” As he reached out longingly for the laptop, which currently showed two women engaged in rather intimate activities, the screen was swiftly closed by Harvey.
“I don’t know what you two have been doing and I don’t want to know,” the singer told them in a stern tone. “All I want is to make sure this stops right here, right now, capice?”
“Don’t worry, Harvey.” Linkara had managed to stop rolling and stared up at the singer with eyes that weren’t entirely focused. “We’ve had enough.”
“God yes,” the Snob responded as he pocketed his precious bottle. “I can’t take any more of this nightmare. Why are we even wasting our time with this shit?”
“I don’t know,” Linkara admitted while placing Bear back into his usual spot. “I don’t even know why we were fighting in the first place.”
“Yeah, me neither.” The Snob rubbed his head and pondered for a moment. “I really enjoyed when we flew to Nevada together and you bought me a cookie.”
“That was fun,” Linkara agreed with a smile. “And I did feel bad when you were banished.”
“Yeah, the Critic was a real dick then,” the Snob derided. “Anyway, why don’t we just put this whole fight behind us and start over as fellow internet reviewers.” He stuck out his hand and Linkara quickly shook it.
“Good idea. Although, I do have one question.”
“What?”
“Why did you sound so angry when you sang that line of my theme song in my 100th episode? I didn’t mean to impose on you when I asked for your help.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” the Snob said with a dismissive wave. “It’s just that… you always get the best props in your videos! You not only have a magical gun, and Star Trek weapons, but Power Ranger Megazords and a talking robot! And what do I have? Straws and a fucking Bigfoot costume.”
“Wow. I never thought a reviewer as great as you would be jealous of a geek like me,” Linkara admitted.
“Hey, we’re all geeks in our own ways,” the Snob said, now smiling himself.
“You’re right. And hey, if you ever want to borrow one of my props for a review, just say the word.”
“And if you ever want a bottle of Crystal Pepsi that’s over a decade old, I’m your man.” The critics shook hands once more and vowed never to fight again, unless they were somehow pitted against each other by the sinister machinations of the Nostalgia Critic. But how likely was that to happen again?