Daily Archives: February 5, 2017

Zom Fu – Chapter 36


As Niu and the Whirlwind entered the camp of the Clan of the Mediocre Yet Effective Club Bonk, there was great frivolity afoot. Members ate, drank, danced and partied.

“This is unlike any kung fu clan I have ever seen,” Niu said. “Where is the discipline?”

The Whirlwind sipped wine from a skin, then wiped the excess from his lips. “We don’t really care for rules here.”

At that moment, a friendly game of checkers turned ugly as one player accused the other of cheating. Fists were thrown. Faces were smashed.

“I can see that,” Niu said.

The Whirlwind smiled at the ruffians. “Keep at it, boys. That’ll work the stress right out of you!”

“Perhaps you should order them to stop,” Niu said.

“Why would I do that?” the Whirlwind asked as he passed the wine skin to Niu.

Niu pushed the skin away. “Because you are their master.”

“Meh,” the Whirlwind said. “We aren’t exactly a cohesive unit. People come and go as they please. I’m not really a ‘master’ per se. At best, I’m more of an informal organizer.”

A stark naked drunkard emerged from his tent and puked his guts out.

“There we go, friend,” the Whirlwind said as he patted the drunkard on the back. “Feeling better?”

The drunkard nodded.

“Here, take a pull of this,” the Whirlwind said as he handed his wine skin to the lush. “It’ll fix you right up.

The drunk man nodded, took a drink, then handed the skin back to its owner. The Whirlwind took another drink, then continued to walk through the camp with his guest.

“That will not help him,” Niu said.

“I don’t know that it will not, not help him,” the Whirlwind replied. “What are you? One of those pansies who goes through life sober?”

“The fates wouldn’t have given me my wits had they wanted me to dull them,” Niu said.

“Maybe,” the Whirlwind said. “But then again, would the fates have allowed for the existence of a dazzling array of fermented beverages capable of knocking you out if they didn’t think every man deserved the occasional mental break from a dangerous world from time to time?”

“Are you a fatalist?” Niu asked.

“No,” the Whirlwind said. “Just a pragmatist.”

The Whirlwind stopped in front of a large tent and walked inside, bidding his guest to join him. Inside, Niu marveled at the sight of gold pieces and glistening gems being sorted and counted by the club bonk clan’s members.

“You’re all thieves,” Niu said.

“‘Thief’ is such a crude word,” the Whirlwind said. “We prefer the term, ‘wealth redistributors.’”

“Have these riches always been yours?” Niu asked.

“No,” the Whirlwind replied. “We pinched them.”

“Then you stole all of this,” Niu said.

“From the rich,” Niu said. “To give to the poor.”

Niu shook his head. “It doesn’t appear as though you are very poor.”

The Whirlwind shrugged his shoulders. “We used to be poor and funny thing about poverty, you never know when it will come back to bite you in the ass again.  ‘Better safe than sorry,’ I always say.”

“I have no idea what my master was thinking,” Niu said. “Asking me to train common criminals.”

“Criminals?” the Whirlwind asked. “Friend, there’s nothing common or criminal about this. The Emperor’s absurdly high tax rates, courtesy of that pile of feces in the shape of a man, Advisor Zhen. That’s what’s criminal. We steal from the Emperor’s tax collectors and sometimes, from the Advisor’s friends in high places. We give most of the loot back to its rightful owners but we’re no dummies. We keep a slice.”

“The kung fu clans have always come to the Emperor’s aid when needed,” Niu said. “We’ve never taken it upon ourselves to interfere with his commands, whether or not we agree with them.”

The Whirlwind walked past a series of barrels holding all manner of pilfered fruit. He picked up an orange and started peeling it.

“Yes, well, that’s why you are all chumps.”

The Whirlwind caught himself and patted Niu on the shoulder. “Were chumps. I was quite saddened when the news of the tiger claw clan’s demise made its way to me.  Undead warriors.  Ghosts in the company of giant bald men.  My eyes have truly opened to the supernatural.”

Niu brushed the Whirlwind’s hand aside.

“This,” Niu said as he waved his arms about the tent full of treasure. “All of this. This is why your clan was never recognized as a true kung fu clan.”

The Whirlwind popped an orange slice in his mouth and swallowed. “Oh well. No skin off my balls.”

The big man was furious. That emotion was a rarity for him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then glared at the informal organizer.

“If you’re going to help the Infallible Master and I save the Emperor, you’re going to have to change your ways and start acting like a kung fu warrior,” Niu said. “No more stealing, drinking, or gambling. You’ll wake up before sunrise and train until bedtime. You will embrace discipline and clean living, all in the name of service to your Emperor.”

The Whirlwind stared at Niu with a deadpan expression on his for a moment, then pointed at the big man and laughed. Soon enough, the rest of the club bonk clan members joined in.

“Oh,” the Whirlwind said. “That was good.”

“What’s so funny?” Niu asked.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” the Whirlwind said. “The Emperor doesn’t have a lot of friends here. I’m sure he’s a fine little fellow but as long as Advisor Zhen runs things, we aren’t itching to get ourselves killed just to allow a unfairly punitive and confiscatory tax system to reign supreme. What’s in it for us?”

Niu considered the question. As he watched the nimble fingers of a club bonk clan member stacking gold pieces, an idea presented itself.

“Though I am loathe to say this,” Niu said. “I suppose during the chaos that is about to unfold at the Forbidden City, my first priority would be the Emperor’s safety and therefore…”

The Whirlwind listened patiently.

“…if a certain group of criminal thieves…”

The Whirlwind coughed into his hand and corrected Niu. “Wealth redistributors.”

Niu rolled his eyes. “If a certain group of wealth redistributors were to abscond with the Emperor’s wealth, I would no doubt be too distracted to do anything about it.”

The Whirlwind ate another orange slice, then winked at the big man. “I like it.”

The informal organizer turned to his merry band of wealth redistributors. “You hear that boys? We’re going to save the Emperor, then rob his ass blind!”

A chorus of “Hooray!” broke out throughout the tent.

“Very good then,” the Whirlwind said as he took a pull from his wine skin. “How hard could it be to learn kung fu?”

Niu smiled, then backhanded the wine skin out of the Whirlwind’s hand, sending a fruity scented booze spray throughout the tent.

“You have no idea.”

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Zom Fu Continues

Hey 3.5 readers.

VGRF here.  I didn’t think to look into it, but it since I’ve been awarded custody of the Bookshelf Battle Blog, I should totally be awarded custody of all of BQB’s book attempts.  It’s only fair, right?

Anyway, to that end, I’ll keep posting the Zom Fu chapters that BQB hasn’t gotten around to posting yet.

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What Are Your Favorite Super Bowl Commercials?

Hey 3.5 readers.

VGRF here again.  What are you favorite super bowl commercials, either from tonight or from the past?

The one I remember the most from last year is Mountain Dew’s “Puppy, Monkey, Baby” though only because it was very weird.

Anyway, let me know and also BQB, enjoy watching the Super Bowl with Leo and the Yeti.

Hmm.  “Leo and the Yeti.”  Sounds like a good 1970s buddy cop drama.

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Who Are You Rooting For in the Super Bowl?

Hey 3.5 readers.

Video Game Rack Fighter here.  Just curious, who are you all rooting for in the Super Bowl?

Honestly, I was with BQB on this one.  Really, who cares?  This guy throws a ball, that guy throws a ball…who needs it?

Oh well, who cares what BQB thinks now that I have won his blog in the divorce and he is left to spoon with Leo McCoy in the Random Motel.


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My Side of the Story – Bookshelf Q. Battler


Hey 3.5 readers.

A sad day in East Randomtown.  As my attorney, Ms. Donnelly, has notified you, VGRF and I are done, over, kaputsville.  Even worse, I have lost the Bookshelf Battle Blog, BQB HQ, Bookshelf Q. Battledog, and my action figure collection in the divorce, which, by the way came as a big surprise to me because I didn’t even know that VGRF and I were married.  Thanks Obama.

So this will be my last post.  This was a site for manly nerds and no, that’s not an oxymoron.  Now I can only assume that Video Game Rack Fighter will turn this fine website that I have spent three years of my life building into an online repository of daisy photos and vagina poems.  I mean, I don’t know that for sure, but I can only assume that most women spend 99.99% of their time looking at photos of daisies and writing poems about their vaginas.

It all started when I left one errant pee sprinkle on the toilet seat.  Totally wasn’t intentional.  It’s not like I meant to.  When VGRF brought it to my attention, I immediately dispatched the Yeti to clean it up.  I don’t know why, but the Yeti is into cleaning up weird messes.  I don’t know why.  I don’t ask.

But Video Game Rack Fighter was all like, “Well, you made the mess so you should clean it up and not make the Yeti do your dirty work” and I was all like, “Who cares?  He’s just a stupid yeti” and then she was all like, “It doesn’t matter.  You should take responsibility.”

So then I was all like, “You know, I don’t give you this much shit over the giant toe nails that you clip and just leave strewn all over BQB HQ.  This is a place of online blog business yet everywhere I go I’m stepping on toenails the size of Fritos!”

At that moment, I was reminded that it is impossible to win an argument with a woman because VGRF gave up on having any kind of rational discussion and proceeded to round house kick me in the face repeatedly until I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the Random Motel with my freaking archenemy Leo McKoy of all people as a room mate.

By then, Attorney Donnelly had worked out the details of the divorce I had to a woman I didn’t even know I was married to and I don’t know how but I’m still blaming this on Obama.

Part of me is mad that Ms. Donnelly didn’t get me a better settlement, one that would have allowed me to retain BQB HQ and the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  Then again, part of me thanks her for keeping me from suffering VGRF’s first bid, namely, that I end up with my genitals slammed in a steel door repeatedly for the rest of my life.

Women always have to go right for the junk, let me tell you.

So I guess that’s it.  I’m stuck as Leo McKoy’s roommate indefinitely.  Probably forever because, did you hear this?  I have to also pay VGRF 99.99% of the paycheck I earn from Beige Corp.  I don’t know why.  It’s not like VGRF is getting up every day and assisting people who assist people who assist the people who sell beige products and accessories.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get to post again, 3.5 readers.  VGRF’s settlement calls for me to be shot out of a high velocity cannon and directly into the sun if I post on this blog again.  Yeah, part of me was surprised that the court system approved that part and then again, part of me wasn’t surprised at all.

I haven’t decided yet but I might ditch Leo and explore the universe with Alien Jones for awhile.  I asked him over the space phone if he would like to be intergalactic roommates but all he did was make a few staticky noises with his mouth then say, “Um…sorry…the space phone is breaking up…bzzt bzzzt….talk to you later…”

Poor guy really needs a new space phone.

Thanks for the memories, 3.5.

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