Daily Archives: March 5, 2017

Zom Fu – Chapter 47


The gates gave way and the Tsang’s soldiers were overrun. The Forbidden City became a whirlwind of bloodlust. The Clan of the Terrifyingly Unnatural Brain Bite reveled in ripping off the soldiers’ limbs and heads and of course, they gorged themselves on brains. Nourishment coursed through their veins as knowledge entered their brains.

Dragonhand entered the city, thrilled at what he’d accomplished after decades of preparation. The kung fu clans were destroyed. Now the Imperial Army was in ruin. The Imperial Guard would soon be next.

A desperate soldier flailed at the fiend with a battle axe. Dragonhand backhanded the soldier and sent him flying. More tried to take the brain bite clan master down. Arrows pierced Dragonhand’s flesh. Knives and swords were plunged into his body. None of it mattered. Dragonhand kept marching toward the Imperial Palace with great ease. Nothing was going to get in his way now.

Lickspittle caught up with his master. “Your victory is magnificent, oh great conquering one!”

“Here, toady,” Dragonhand said as he tossed his sidekick a brain he’d ripped out of a soldier’s head. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

“Oh!” Lickspittle proudly declared as he munched on the brain. “Thank you, oh generous one! I shall eat this in celebration of your triumph.”

Chaos ensued as Dragonhand’s minions and the few remaining soldiers clashed. Around a hundred zombified warriors joined their master. When they reached the palace, they were met by Bingwen, second-in-command of the Imperial Guard. He raised his hand and his guards pointed their spears at the undead rabble.

“Move or be moved,” Dragonhand said. “Be useful or be eaten. Join me or feed me. Make a choice and choose wisely but most importantly, choose wisely, for I am impatient and peckish.”

“Dragonhand,” Bingwen said. “I have received word from my superior, the honorable Captain Yuen, that he will agree to meet with you and you alone to negotiate terms of surrender.”

“Bring me the Emperor so I can eat his brain and maybe I’ll think about letting all of you keep yours,” Dragonhand said.

Bingwen gulped. “I am sorry, sir, but those are the terms set out by my commanding officer.”

Dragonhand sighed. “Thoughts, Lickspittle?”

The lackey’s eyes grew wide. “You seek my counsel, oh wondrous one?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, insect,” Dragonhand said. “You’re the closest thing I have to a second. Say something intelligent and surprise me.”

Lickspittle looked the guards over. “The Captain may be a coward willing to sell out the Emperor.”

The toady studied Bingwen’s face. “Then again, this could be a ploy to get you alone and overpower you.”

Dragonhand sneered at his subordinate. Lickspittle instinctively covered his face, then upon realizing he was not about to be struck, removed his arms and added, “As if anyone could overpower you, master. These pitiful humans would be fools to try.”

Bingwen coughed into his fist, then whispered something unintelligible. “Erza fistun.”

“What?” Dragonhand asked.

“Ahem,” Bingwen said before lowering his voice to a whisper and leaning into Dragonhand’s rotten ear. “It’s the first one. The Captain is womanly in his cowardice. I just can’t say this out loud in front of the men. Please come with me.”

Dragonhand grunted in disapproval. “Ergh.”

The fiend pushed Bingwen aside, then motioned for his horde to follow.

“But sir!” Bingwen said. “The captain specifically requested to speak to you alone.”

“You are all my dogs now,” Dragonhand said as he stepped into the palace. “I give the orders. You obey and do as you are told.”

Zombies and guards marched into the throne room as though they were equals.

“This is utterly disappointing, Lickspittle,” Dragonhand said.

“Why is that, oh frowny faced one?” Lickspittle asked. “This is a victory without a fight.”

“Yes,” Dragonhand said. “But I have dreamed so long about tearing apart the palace guard on my way to clawing out the Emperor’s brain that for them to just lay down and…what is this?”

Dragonhand stared at the dead body sitting on the dragon throne.

“Captain!” Bingwen said.

“Is this a trick?” Dragonhand asked.

“No,” Bingwen said as he shook his head back and forth.

“Search the palace!” Dragonhand shouted. “Bring me the Emperor! I want him alive.”

Zombies and guards obeyed and hurried off in all different directions. Lickspittle remained.

Dragonhand grabbed Yuen’s carcass and tossed it to the floor like so much trash.

“My throne has been soiled, Lickspittle,” Dragonhand said as he took a seat.

“And yet you look so regal sitting there,” Lickspittle said.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Dragonhand said.

“But master,” Lickspittle said. “Surely, you…”

Dragonhand raised a pointer finger. “Shh. Stifle your mouth and allow me to enjoy this moment in peace.”

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Zom Fu – Chapter 46


Sparks flew as General Tsang and Captain Yuen clashed their swords together.

“Be practical, old man,” Captain Yuen said. “Join me and we’ll deliver the Emperor to Dragonhand together.”

“You must be a fool if you thought that line would work on me,” General Tsang replied.

The duo slashed and bashed their way down the hallway and into the throne room. Captain Yuen launched a powerful swipe. General Tsang dodged it. He countered with a thrust that would have been devastating had Captain Yuen not blocked it with his sword in time.

“Only a fool would die for a lost cause,” Captain Yuen said. “Dragonhand has already won. Align yourself with the victor.”

General Tsang and Captain Yuen bashed their swords together over and over as they headed up the steps leading to the dragon throne.

“I always have and always will align myself with China,” General Tsang said.

A few more clangs. Some thrusts. Dodges. Finally, General Tsang managed to sneak in a kick. His boot connected to Captain Yuen’s chest, knocking the traitor to the floor. Before Yuen could reach for his sword, he saw Tsang’s sword being held just an inch away from his eyes.

“Forgive me,” Captain Yuen said.

“What?” General Tsang asked.

“I panicked,” Captain Yuen said. “These beasts are so frightening. Fear took control. I’m better now. I will fight with you.”

General Tsang grimaced as he leaned his free hand down. “Damn you, Yuen. You can’t even die like a man.”

Captain Yuen took the general’s hand and help in rising to his feet.

“You’re in no condition to fight,” General Tsang said as he turned his back on Yuen. “I can’t trust you. I’ll lock you in the dungeon until I figure out what to do with you.”

The captain grinned as he saw his sword on the floor, just a foot in front of the dragon throne. “I do not deserve your kindness.”

“No,” the general said as he sheathed his sword. “You do not.”

Captain Yuen picked up his sword and chuckled. “What an imbecile.”

The captain ran at General Tsang and was about to strike when he felt a sharp pain in his gut. General Tsang had pulled a dagger from his belt and turned just in time to introduce it to the captain’s gut.

A surprised Captain Yuen choked up blood and backed up until he fell down into the dragon throne. The dying man managed to utter a few last words. “We were friends once, weren’t we?”

“That we were,” General Tsang said as he ran his hand over the captain’s eyelids, closing them. He pulled his dagger out of his opponent’s stomach, wiped it off with a handkerchief, then sheathed it.

The general stepped back and took in the sight of the palace’s chief of security sitting dead on the dragon throne, red blood pouring out all over the clean white floor.

“Such a shame that so many men have died all over a bloody chair,” General Tsang said.

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Zom Fu – Chapter 45


Rage Dog joined five other zombified warriors in slamming a battering ram against the gate.

“Heave!” Rage Dog shouted. The command was quickly followed by a slam. Heave, slam. Heave, slam. Occasionally, the warriors would drop the ram and scatter just in time to miss being burned by boiling oil being dropped by the soldiers above. Some of the undead were not lucky enough to avoid having their faces burned, but they continued their duties just the same.

Meanwhile, Lickspittle oversaw a complex operation in which brain biters were doused with kerosene, set ablaze, then launched over the wall via the zombapault. Over a dozen warriors had breached the wall in this fashion and were wreaking havoc within the city.

Dragonhand grabbed Rage Dog by the robe and pulled the fighter close. “Was I wrong when I saw myself in you?”

“No master!” Rage Dog shouted.

The fiend pointed to a rope, one of many that had attached to the wall by a grappling hook. “Bring me the Emperor’s brain!”

Rage Dog did not flinch at the request. “You will have it, master.”

Up the rope the dog flew, dodging arrows, rocks, even boiling oil spills. Just as the soldiers would cut rope, he’d spring to the next until he was on top of the wall.

“Waaaaaahhh!” the fighter cried as he tiger clawed out a soldier’s brains. A second soldier charged at Rage Dog, then a third and a fourth. All ended up with their brains removed from their skulls.

Rage Dog made his way down the inner wall steps and ran toward the palace. All around him, burning zombies were engrossed in fighting General Tsang’s soldiers.

“Come brothers!” Rage Dog shouted to his fellow brain bite clan members. “The Emperor’s brain awaits!”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 3


Sitwell Community College

Sitwell, Florida

10 p.m.

Sitwell Community College wasn’t known for academic accomplishment, or successful alumni, or even for getting basic knowledge into the heads of its students. It was, however, known for raging keggers, provided courtesy of Lambda Pi Delta, the fraternity that owned the rowdiest off-campus party house.

For the past decade, those soirees had been carried out by perpetual student Chad Becker, a long, flaxen haired hunk who never bothered to wear anything other than a loosely tied bathrobe and worn, leather sandals.

While Chad addressed the crowd of drunken degenerates, his frat brother Paul, a young, gangly looking dweeb, inserted a plastic tube into a funnel.

“Fellow Deltas,” Chad said. “I dedicate this next chug to the good people of Syria. May those vile Dakotans stop trying to build a pipeline through their lands once and for all so that Bernie Sanders can focus on his bid to become the president of Afghanistan.”

“You really need to pay more attention to the news, Chad,” Paul said as he cracked open a forty ounce tall boy.

Chad burped, then with slurred speech, stammered out a weak reply. “You really need to pay attention to your face. Because it’s ugly.”

Britney, a fake blond with one inch black roots, stumbled through the crowd on high heels that she was not comfortable walking on in any way whatsoever. Her press on nails may have been fake, but her concern was genuine.

“Chad,” Britney said. “You need to stop.”

“No,” Chad said. “You are the one who needs to stop.”

“Babe,” Britney said. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“College is for drinking, sugar tits,” Chad said before releasing a loud belch.

“This is just his sixth one,” Paul said as he picked up a tall boy.

Britney snatched the giant can out of the geek’s hand. “Spazenbrau? Are you shitting me, Paul? You let him drink six of these?”

Somewhere in the back of the frat house, a DJ got on his mic. “Lambda Pi Delta! Are you having a good time?”

The DJ’s question was met with a deafening chorus of “yeaah!” and “yoo!”

“I can’t hear you!” the DJ said.

The hoots and hollers grew louder.

“My main man Chad Becker is in the back chugging brews in the name of various social causes so you’re going to want to check that out. When the hell are you going to graduate, Chad? You’ve been going to a two-year community college since the Bush administration!”

“Never!” Chad shouted. “Party time for Chad forever! Woo!”

“Now it’s time to get down with a little Stank Daddy,” the DJ said. “Y’all need to get your dance on for Stank’s new single, Smack a Bitch.”

Britney persisted in shouting questions to Paul, who just shrugged his shoulders because he couldn’t hear anything over the blaring rap music lyrics:

Stank Daddy in Da House Gonna Smack a Bitch,
Bust Her Head with a Tire Iron, Leave her ass in a ditch.
Stank Daddy on the scene gonna make some greens.
Gonna smack a bitch until her ass starts to scream.

Gretchen and Eleanor, the two most notorious feminists on campus, sauntered past Chad, Paul and Britney and found a spot on the dance floor to boogie down.

“Should we be dancing to this?” Martha shouted. “It seems awfully chauvinistic.”

“No!” Gretchen shouted back. “Stank Daddy isn’t using the word ‘bitch’ to describe a woman, but rather as an insult to all of the various societal forces that are trying to keep him down.”

The rap continued…

Talkin ‘bout them phat ass bitches with them big ass titties.
Stank Daddy gonna chop ‘em up and bury ‘em under seven different cities.
Smack a bitch yo, smack a bitch yo, if you is a bitch you don’t pass go.

Britney got right up in Paul’s ear and screamed. “Why did you let him drink six of those?”

“He only drank five!” Paul shouted back.

“It doesn’t matter!” Britney cried. “Each can is a forty ounce! A regular beer is like twelve ounces so you basically let him drink sixteen beers!”

“Oh Jesus Christ, Britney,” Paul cried. “You take one math class and you think you know everything!”

Britney carried on. “And it’s a beer slash energy drink. So now you’ve got him drunk out of his mind and all cranked up at the same time!”

“Chaddy wants his drinky poo!” Chad shouted. “Paul, you son of a bitch, you beer me right now!”

Paul stuck the other end of the plastic tube in Chad’s mouth.

“Don’t you do it,” Britney hollered as she wagged a finger in Paul’s face.

“I’m powerless, here!” Paul yelled. “I’m the frat’s Beer Meister. If a brother asks for beer, he gets beer.”

“Cut him off!” Britney shouted.

“I’m sorry,” Paul cried as he cracked open the tall boy. “But I can’t allow anything to interfere with my sacred duty! I took an oath!”

Elsewhere on the dance floor, Gretchen and Eleanor were getting their groove on.

“I’m still not so sure about this song,” Gretchen shouted.

“Will you relax?” Eleanor shouted back. “This song has nothing to do with misogyny. Try to stay woke, babe.”

Stank Daddy’s lyrics filled the room:

Aw yeah I’m talkin’ ‘bout smackin’ up a bitch with a big ass vagina.
Knock her out with a baseball bat, nothin’ could be fine-ah.

Eleanor put her arms around Gretchen’s waist and the pair began to sway back and forth together.

“You know what we should do?!” Eleanor shouted.

“What?!” Gretchen yelled.

“We should totally go back to the sorority house and scissor the crap out of each other as a big F-U to the patriarchy,” Eleanor hollered.

“But will the patriarchy even now?” Gretchen screamed.

“The patriarchy knows everything,” Eleanor yelled as she took Gretchen’s hand and led her off the dance floor.

“OK,” Gretchen shouted. “But I have to tinkle first!”

Meanwhile, a group of looky lous assembled to watch Chad destroy his body. Stank Daddy’s jam died down and the DJ brought the music to a normal volume.

“Chug, chug, chug!!!” the crowd cried as Paul poured the Spazenbrau down the funnel and into Chad’s hatch.

Thirty seconds later, Paul crushed the beer can in his hand. “Empty!”

“Wooo!” cried the onlookers.

Chad stood up, surveyed his adoring fans, then released a giant burp.

“One more for the Chadinator!” Chad shouted to uproarious applause.

“Holy shit baby,” Britney said. “Are you ok?”

“Of course, foxy mama,” Chad said. “I’ve never felt…”

Slam! Chad collapsed to the ground.

“Oh my God!” Britney screamed as she dropped to her knees and slapped Chad in the face. “Baby! Babe, wake up!”

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Deadpool 2 Teaser Trailer – No Good Deed

Hey 3.5 readers.

Ryan Reynolds has released a teaser trailer for Deadpool 2 and it’s every bit as funny as you’d hoped:

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My Snapchat Stock Went Up and Now I’m a Genius

Hey 3.5 readers.  My Snapchat stock went down two seconds after I bought it so I assumed I was an idiot.  Then the next day it went up a little bit so now I’m a genius again.

I must admit I have concerns about the company’s long term prospects.  I really feel like they’ve got to branch out beyond the funny camera filters if they’re going to maintain such an enormous valuation.

Anyway, as a 0.000000000000000000000000001% owner of this fine company, allow me to ask you to check out the wonderful Snapchat app.  You can make yourself look like a puppy or a kitty and you can send inappropriate photos of yourself doing inappropriate things to unsavory characters and the photos just go poof, though apparently sneaky people can find a way around that so it’s not entirely foolproof but hey, if you can find a better app that can allow you to send inappropriate photos, then use it.

Wait.  Don’t use it.  Use Snapchat and make my stock go up.  Forget about sending inappropriate photos.  It’s a bad idea.  Just use the puppy and kitty filters instead.  You’ve always wanted to be a puppy.  Now you can.

Come on.  Make me rich, people.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 2


Countess Cucamonga, a pop star known for singing about her infamous booty, comes to a mysterious end…when her end is eaten.

Later that evening, an old man in a nursing home comes to…a similar end.

Bookshelf Battle

Geriatric Oaks Retirement Home

Boca Raton, Florida

9:00 P.M.

Nurse Sheila was a living saint. For the past twenty years, she’d diligently kept watch over her elderly charges, many of which were dazed, confused, and filled to the brim with anger over the fact that their lives had become a sad, ironic joke.

“What is this?” Mr. Bromstein asked as pulled out the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts and stared downward. “This is supposed to be my schmekel but it looks like a day old slice of pastrami.”

“Have you been putting your cream on?” Nurse Sheila asked.

‘Oy,” Mr. Bromstein answered as he turned to his roommate, Raul. Raul feasted on jello as he watched an old Western film.

“Do you hear what she asks me?” Mr. Bromstein asked Raul. “‘Have I put the cream on?’ she says. Of course I put the cream on. The doctor tells…

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Toilet Gator Sundays Continue…

Getting bitten on the butt by a toilet gator is hazardous to your health.

But don’t take my word for it.  Here’s a doctor to fill you in…

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Movie Review – I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore (2017)

Ridiculous amounts of cartoonish violence and ennui.

BQB here with a review of Netflix’s, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore.

Ruth (Melanie Lynskey), a nursing assistant, is epically bummed.  Inconsiderate people surround her wherever she goes.  From the guy at the supermarket who always drops something on the floor then leaves it for someone else to pick up, to the dude with unnecessarily huge exhaust pipes on his truck belching smoke into the air, to whoever is allowing their dog to poop on her lawn everyday, there just seems to be an unmitigated lack of concern for others in this world.

All these bad vibes culminate when her house is robbed.  Rather than go the usual route of being content to file a police report that goes nowhere, she snaps and sets out on a mission to hunt the house robbers down.

She finds a sidekick in her neighbor Tony (Elijah Wood), a martial arts enthusiast who is more likely to nunchuck himself than actually do anything useful.

At first, I thought this was going to be a dark comedy, almost a parody of the 1993 film Falling Down, in which frustrated office worker Michael Douglas snaps and lashes out at all the flaws in society, even going so far as to pull a gun on the fast food worker who refuses to make him breakfast after 11 am.

But no.  Instead, as Ruth and Tony delve deeper into the criminal underworld to which the home invaders belong, the violence gets bigger, badder, bolder, and frankly, ends up being absurd, comical and a gonzo-esque attempt to freak out the viewer.

I’m not sure how to describe it.  It wants to be a dark comedy but it isn’t that funny.  Or, if that was the intention, someone behind the film mistook shock for comedy.  At any rate, the body count piles up and Elijah Wood delivers the few laughs of the film.

STATUS:  Bordeling shelf-worthy.  It starts well then loses its way.  But if you’ve got Netflix and nothing else to do, check it out.

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