Prose: "Adeventures of King Max and Savage"

I know what you're thinking...."oh God ANOTHER ONE!?" Well that's right--the third incarnation of my random story--this one will be revolving around Kat's brother Max, god of Rock.




King Max, the super sexy blonde heavy metal rock god that makes Jimmy Paige look like a chump, sat on his throne, his axe laid across his lap. He looked to his left, where his sister, Empress Catlyn LeGault, sat staring off into space–she looked rather ditsy and blonde, but it was all just a facade–under that blonde, crazy exterior hid a cold, calculating killer; the sole ruler of the world! Who knows what devious plot she’s thinking of right now!

Hm....what kind of pizza should I order tonight? Okay, so she’s NOT cold and NOT that calculating...but she IS Empress of the world! I do NOT think like that... I always know what pizza to order! Combo, duh! But when it comes to Chinese, well that’s a bit more iffy. Or really any other decision for that matter. Decisions suck, so I just pick something and do it, like taking over the world. It sounded like a good idea at the time... plus it rocks. Tehehehehe, I’m Empress of the world! So I can type in bold all I want to and nobody can do anything about it... except maybe Dono, but he loves me so he’ll do whatever I say(I did give him the control of the super secret something death people... that’s really more his field). Yeah...that was Catlyn, empress of the world...

Max blinked, then turned back to his right, where Dono (that’s me!), sat coolly, his puffy blonde hair sticking out in every direction. He may be dressed like a high school prep, but he's REALLY the super cool leader of the Super Secret Ninja Assassin Death Squad! He’s just so badass and cool....AND he’s got one of them super dashing scars of his left eyes, how cool is that!? What could he be thinking of right now!?

I’m so badass....I’m the leader of a really neat-o ninja assassin death squad, AND I have a really dashing scar over my eye! AND I’m writing this from a third person omniscient point of view but I’M the third person HOWEVER I’m also a character in the story how cool is THAT!? No cooler than that time we got stoned and jumped off my roof... oh wait, that was in a movie... Ok, we watch way too many movies.

See? Told you!

Then there’s Max, that Heavy Metal God that rips out solos on his beautiful axe Savage that could melt the face off an eyebrowless, three-nippled Belgian love slave! Man, this guy is KING! Jimmy Hendrix...who? Eric Clapton...what’d he do again? Was he a drummer of some gospel band? Jimmy Paige? Thirty minute guitar solos are nothin’ compared to the stuff Max could rip–His guitar didn’t just wail–it SANG! Like a little baby canary! Dono! Cool things don’t sing like canaries, they sing like hawks would sing if we were cool enough to hear their songs. Because hawks are bad-ass. (Catlyn shut up you’re ruining my artistic interpretation of the awesomeness of Max’s badass guitarness! So if I want there to be canaries then there’s canaries OKAY!?)

AN YWAY...As legendary as Max’s bond with Savage is, his perfectly chiseled features are even more mythical. His golden blonde hair is always perfect (not like my poofy nasty blonde hair...bastard poofy blond hair isn’t nasty... ‘tard!), and his muscle tone is perfect! Not overly muscled, not a beefy body builder, just toned enough that all he has to do is say “Love me...” in that quiet, somewhat stupid sounding voice, and you will, instantly. Like Dracula in that one movie, when he just puts out his hand and the women just go to him even though he’s gonna bite them and make them dead, or un-dead... whatever. Why is it that vampires are so sexy? Even though they don’t have any sort of dashing scars... unless they got them before they turned vampire ‘cause they heal all fast and what not. Why is it there are no stoner vampires? They’re in like every other horror flick, not that they improve anything...okay that’s enough of Catlyn’s rambling... How dare you silence me! But I was done anyway... but you didn’t know that! If I liked you less, you’d be fed to the dogs... or rather the mice, which have gotten unusually large since squirkies consider cats a delicacy and the rodent problem is a bit out of hand... extending the hunting season isn’t helping either. Especially since the mice have learned to wear bright orange and the hunters get confused and start hunting each other. I guess that’s one way to weed out the gene pool. Or there’s my personal favorite of throwing a smoke bomb into a very crowded mall and sitting outside with a sniper rifle picking off the slow ones. Wow... you’re cold... Very freekin’ cold! Have you felt my hands?! I’m constantly freezing! I can’t feel my toes at this moment and my hands are only kept warm from my laptop’s keyboard. You’d think they’d develop laptop technology that warms your feet too. I need to talk to my team of scenists about this. I’m typing way too much Dono. You’re the writer not me, I just have crazy little rants that make no sense. The world wants more of you and your silly humor. So get off line and astound you’re awaiting public.


No, that about covers it....


Yeah, this is ridiculous....because now Kat's adding her commentary.....trhis could be amusing...

*blinks*

Wow.

Pure genius.

oh my goodness.. yeah. I think that pretty much covers it. with commentary, eh? hehe, brilliant.

and the best part? it didn't revolve around Max.. well, maybe that is a good thing.. I wouldn't know. care to enlighten me (us)?

Yeah, I'm gonna have to take credit... or responsibility... for all that bold nonsense. I like where this story is going... I think it needs a plot though... I know!!! I become Empress of the galaxy and Max helps me conquor a planet or something. Is that too space-ish? like Jason X... or Muppets in space... it always ends up being the end of the line for stories. We'll brainstorm later.

Anyway, to the actual point of this story...

Story time: when Max and I were in Portland we went GoodWill shopping and found these awesome pants... they should totally be in this story!

Max sat at his throne, playing “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” on Savage, when suddenly Kat jumped up and yelled

I think I want to be sitting on a nifty cushion... maybe in a really flow-ey skirt. The totally princess kind that poofs up all around you when you sit on a cushion on the floor. Then I want to walk around with it for a while, ‘cause my aunt made me a poofy princess dress when I was little and it was like “walking on a cloud” my exact words at the age of like 4... I was so adorable!

“I’m frickin’ bored dammit!” Max was so startled that he snapped one of the strings on Savage and dropped his pick into the random sewer grate on the floor in front of his throne. He glared at Empress Kat, his dirty blonde hair hanging over his eyes.

“Dammit Catlyn! What’d you do that for!?” He jumped out of his seat and stormed off to his 5000 square foot room (which is filled with countless guitars and tubas and posters of his idols...which he far surpassed long ago)

Catlyn looked over to Hunter, who shrugged and smiled slightly.

Then I want to dramatically whisk away my dress, and I’ll be wearing comfy clothes, that look sexy, of course... use your imagination. Cause although those dresses are fun to wear, they are not very easy to run around in. Not that I run much, but those skirts always get caught on the wheels of my roller blades. But I’m not very good at rollerblading, so all the halls of Max’s castle are sloped dramatically downward(yes both ways) and have padding at the ends and up the sides. ‘Cause going fast is fun... but having a cast is not. <— I bet you could turn that into some sort of rhyming saying. Think about it...

“Rock stars,” he said, his grin widening.

About three hours later, Kat and Hunter were starting to get worried because they hadn’t heard any music coming from Max’s room in a long while.

“Max has been in there a long time... maybe we should go check on him?”Hunter asked.

“No, he’s probably just sulking ‘cause I made him break his stupid guitar string,” Kat replied.

“But he’s always playing music! Something’s gotta be wrong.” So Hunter and Kat took the three-mile trek to Max’s room up a flight of a bizillion stairs, the great hall of guitars, the wax museum of awesome guitar players, wrestling stars, and the guitar gods he worships. When they got to the 30 ft doors, a team of squirkies trudgingly forced them open to reveal a magnificent room. Neither were distracted by all the shiny things and jewel incrusted furniture, this was common place around Kat’s favored.
Max, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, was sprawled on his puffy, cloud like bed. Sleep had claimed him, the gurgling of saliva was a sure sign.

“Why can’t rock stars have good hygiene?” Kat wondered aloud.

“Hell if I know,” Hunter replied as he dumped a bucket of fancy water with rose petals on Max. The kind royalty keep in their room so they don’t have to smell like shit all the time and have something in common with the peasants.

Max exploded onto his feet, but quickly fell back down after getting tangled in all his silk sheets.

“Whathellwasthafo?” Max mumbled. The half-sleep mumble is a language few understand and even more rare are those who speak it while they are awake; but after being around Max, a constant sleeper, Hunter and Kat understood him perfectly. (Translation: “What the hell was that for”)

“Dude, snap out of it. You gotta get it together. The macho Tombleson brothers have called you out, and if you can’t pull something amazing out of your ass, you gonna’ be humiliated, and possibly dead.” Hunter told Max.

“Waryoutaknbout” Max grumbled, scratching his ass. “Icntakthosdumthgs. ImfrignKINMAKS!” he said as he rolled off is bed and tried to stand as servant squirkies tried to wash and dress him.

“You pull yourself together, we’ll try to stall them, or confuse them so they forget and go home.” Kat said as she finished throwing her third jeweled dart, hitting her third bulls-eye. Yes, she is just that amazing.

Wow. I agree with Crys. Brilliant.

I wanna be a groupie!

Yes! I missed your wacky stories, Dono. Since I only ever read one other one...

"Whathellwasthafo?" Max mumbled. The half-sleep mumble is a language few people understand...and even fewer in number are those who speak it while awake; but after being around Max (a constant sleeper), Hunter and Kat understood him perfectly. (Translation: "What the hell was that for")

"Dude, snap out of it. You gotta get it together. The macho Tombleson brothers have called you out, and if you can’t pull something amazing out of your ass, you gonna’ be humiliated, and possibly dead." Hunter told Max. Kat walked to one wall of the room and pulled three jeweled darts from one massive dartboard mounted on the wall. (The center ring was REALLY big, and the other rings were REALLY small, since Max was such a terrible shot and Hunter and Kat wanted to make him feel better by making him get a bullseye every time)

The Tomblesons were a trio of health obsessed bodybuilding brothers, each one bigger than the next. The biggest, while also the strongest, was a hopelessly pansy-like artist. The smallest of the three was by far the smartest (still not saying much) but also the weakest. The most dangerous of the three brothers was the middle one. He was the middle when it came to strength, but he was a MARINE, so he was UBER talented when it came to killing stuff. Fortunately for our heroes, he was also the stupidest, meaning he had absolutely no sense of tactics or strategy.

"Waryoutaknbout" Max grumbled, scratching his ass. "Icntakthosdumthgs. ImfrignKINMAKS!".

Hunter leaned over to Kat and whispered, “What the Hell did he just say?”

“God, don’t know anything Hunter? He said ‘What are you talking about!? I can take those dumb thugs, I’m friggin’ KING MAX!’ you’re so hopeless…for the leader of my ninjas, you certainly aren’t very useful!”

Max rolled off is bed and untangled himself from the great mass of sheets tying up his legs, then tried to stand as servant squirkies tried to give him a luxurious sponge bath and dress him in his rock-god clothes.

"You pull yourself together, we’ll try to stall them, or confuse them so they forget and go home." Kat said as she finished throwing her third jeweled dart, hitting her third bulls-eye. Yes, she is just that amazing.

“Man I’m amazing,” Kat said with a grin to Hunter, who scoffed loudly.

“Dude, the bullseye is like 10 feet wide! I mean, Dobbins could hit that, and he’s dead!”

“Shut up Hunter or I’ll have you liquidated!” Kat said furiously.

“I love you too Kat,” he said with a grin.


OK dono, enough of all this introducing how great Max is. It’s time for a fight scene. Hummm... who would fight Max? Who would be brave enough... hell, everyone is stoned except my ninja army, anyone might be stupid enough to take him on. I better give him some sort of protection... A big black guy... Joey Baer... no he’s a pansy, and probably a turn coat. But I’m tired of giving that kid every thing he wants, so he gets Joey Baer as a body guard.


Soon, King Max was ready. Savage was magically repaired, most likely by the Super Secret Squirky Repairman Squad.

“Let’s do it,” Max, finally awake, was able to form a semi-coherent sentence.
The three Lords of the World (Lord of the Strings, Lord of the Bling, and Lord of the…er…Ninjas) walked down the bazillion stair flight to the basement, where a massive rock show was to be held. The massive, bigass underground stadium (Cleverly named Stadium Bigass) held anyone willing to pay the steep price of $0.50, and had everything from sexy Asian trapeze artists to acrobatic elephants to kung-fu squirkies! The finale was, of course, a concert starring none other than the God of Rock, King Max.

Kat’s favorite part is the lion tamer, not because he’s so cool, but because he is replaced so often! Every few shows he gets eaten, which happens a lot since it’s a really low budget circus. Hunter was more partial to the sexy Asian trapeze artists... scantily clad, large breasted, damn fine, ASIAN trapeze artists. Unfortunately, we couldn’t leave the Tomblesons in the antechamber–since they didn’t know what it was…so they were sitting with us, completely enchanted by the iron pumping, egg guzzling bodybuilder clowns.
Suddenly all the music and fun stopped. The clowns, animals, and acrobats paused then scurried into the shadows. The basement became disturbingly dark. (And not just because it was a basement and there was absolutely no natural light, or because it was a basement of a castle which usually means it’s a dungeon) It was distrubingly dark because of the smell. It filled everyone’s nostrils, and made them forget the happy fragrance of popcorn and gorgeous Asians sweating. Each was affected with their own memory of this pungent new aroma, but at this moment all their memories were replaced by this new one, happening before them. It wasn’t even a memory yet, but it soon would be, since Max didn’t have much of an attention span for the dramatic.

Suddenly, the darkness was shattered by a massively dramatic spot light. It revealed King Max--his head bowed, face covered by his long hair, and Savage, his mighty Axe, in his hands. He slowly raised his chin and his fur-collared, shiny gold cape dropped to his feet, revealing his outfit worthy of godly status. Barefoot, in his skin tight, embroidered golden bell-bottoms he stood for all to gaze at in awe. He was bare-chested, and his impossibly sexy chest caused many a sexy lady to swoon from sheer overwhelming desire. His hair and chest were still wet from the squirkies’ sponge bath, which made him even more of an object of desire. He raised his solid ivory pick to his lips in tribute to himself, the God of Rock, then lowered it to Savage in a loving stroke across the Axe’s strings. When he hit that first power chord, his head whipped around, spraying the air with glistening droplets. The notes still ringing through the quiet cavern, Max looked upon the three Tombleson brothers in a silent challenge.

The Tomblesons, oblivious to the fact that they stood no chance at all agasint Max and his mighty Axe (because they are Tomblesons and they don’t really know much of anything), rushed down the stadium and surrounded the pedestal Max was on. The brothers had fire in their eyes and muscles in their chest, arms, legs, back... hell... EVERYWHERE! They were ripped! Max was toned, but these guys were insane.He may not need it, but Max decided it was time to make an example out of these punks. So he called in his muscle. Joey “The Bear,” Baer. (yeah, kinda redundant, isn’t it?)

*A look at Griffins response:

All right, remember this isn't serious. It isn't serious.
What if it is?
It isn't.
But what if?
It isn't.
OK. Then why submit it...
It is humor. That is why.
OK.
*

I'm not quite sure if this is a bad story or a parody of them. Or if the distinction between the two really matter.

Bah. I'm confuzzled.

Kat and I are masters of the parody. Believe me, this is the most serious Parody you will ever see lol

A second, slightly dimmer, spotlight revealed a miniature circus tent, about 4 feet high and 3 feet wide. Max hit another chord, this one much more menacing and fear provoking. As the overtones put the Tombleson’s hairs on end, a 6'8" black man emerged from the tiny tent(gotta love the circus). His muscles rippled, as did his gut when he walked. His stern face meant business, and the huge metal pipe in his hand only made his point more clear.

The Tomblesons recovered from their moment of absolute terror. They were foaming at the mouth and shaking with energy. As the fighters squared off, all Kat could do is eat popcorn and think, “this is shaping up to be an awesome battle of strength.”

Suddenly strange things began to happen. A butterfly emerged from an un-popped kernel at the bottom of the popcorn. It flew covered in butter, which is quite an amazing feat to watch, it warms the heart and gives hope to the insects of the world. As it flew past Max he caught it’s eye, they had a special moment, and the butterfly died from a heart-attack (or the insect equivalent). The butter and stunning gaze Max held it in. Just as it was bursting into flames at Max’s feet, the Tomblesons went through an odd transformation as well. Apparently Max had shaman squirkies under his command.

The Tomblesons twitched, steamed, and almost vanished completely... but were actually shrunk to the size of quarters. Noticing his advantage, Joey scooped them up and put them in his pocket, because even though they were tiny, they were still his buddies...

Ok, yes that was a weak fight scene, but when Kat is writing... well she’s not a fan of writing violence...

Hunter turned to Kat, “well, that was odd.” Kat shrugged and they left the arena, skipping arm in arm, since everything is happier when you’re skipping.

“I haven’t seen a good fight in a while.” Kat said.

“Yeah, me neither. This little encounter didn’t do much for me.” Hunter replied.

And Fred, that dark-skinned hooligan, can be the one to attack him. He’d do anything if he thought it’d be funny. Ok, so Fred finds Max without Joey one day and starts chasing him. That goes on for like a mile or two(Fred being a long distance runner and all) and they run through all sorts of weird stuff: circus(Max comes out riding something, Fred comes out balanced on a giant, colorful ball), Indian zoo(Fred is riding an elephant, Max is on something weird... like a bear with a saddle!). Through out this whole thing Max is totally wiped and Fred is just jogging after him laughing... you know that silly laugh Fred has when he’s making fun of people...


In a dark alley an even darker person stood. A hood hid his eyes, but the menacing glow from his wicked smile could be seen by all. Smart folk avoided the alley, but this character wasn’t about to go against anyone smart. Sent forth by the Ringleader of the New Games, he was trying to entrap worthy competitors. His panther already guarded four semi-worthy guys who might put up a worthwhile fight if properly enticed. Bound and gaged, they were awaiting pickup and Midnight was waiting for a real catch.

A metallic glint caught Midnight’s eye. He moved, shadow like, to the end of the alley and peaked around the corner only to be smacked in the face by the end of Max’s gold cape. Flabbergasted, Midnight shook his head. Because flabbergasted is a silly word, and Midnight is a silly guy.

King Max, Kat, and Hunter were strutting down a city street, meeting the people. A car drove up behind them honking like a goose on steroids that was angry because the lady ducks weren’t impressed so he developed a drug problem. It pretty much pissed us all off. Then the icing on the steroid, crack head, honking driver was the comment: “Get the hell out of the street! You think you own the world or something?”

“Actually, yes.” Kat said. Then turned to Hunter, “deal with that one.” Hunter gave the signal, flipping the driver the birdie. Suddenly the rooftops of the surrounding buildings were lined with Kat’s ninja assassin death squad. A single ninja dropped onto the hood of the car, drawing his sword as he fell. Using the momentum of his fall, he plunged the blade through the top of the car and buried it into the driver’s head. Immediately the thug’s body went limp, and the ninja looked to Hunter, who then nodded, satisfied. As the ninja pulled the sword from the car, a metallic scrape pierced the silence. Hunter snapped his fingers and the surrounding ninjas descended upon the car, throwing smoke bombs. The three watched in amusement as the smoke cleared and only the shoes of the driver were left, smoking still. They didn’t even leave the car. It was just gone, along with the driver.

“Man, I love when they do that bit.” Kat giggled, “I’m ready for some food. Let’s go Hunter. Catch ya later bro,” she said to Max as she and Hunter walked away, arm in arm, amused at what just happened.

Max continued down the street shirtless, his golden, fur-collared cape flowing behind him, hair hanging mysteriously in front of his eyes. Girls wished they were with him, and let’s face it, so did guys. Just as Max was pondering his power over the world of fans, one ran up, let through by his perimeter of body guards headed by the one and only Joey Baer.

She must be unique, Max thought. She is kinda cute, but I have Gretchen, my Amazon Goddess, who could compare. But still he was curious, like a certain silly monkey who keeps getting into trouble.

“Omigod,” the girl said as she curtsied. “I can’t believe this–King Max, it’s such an honor to meet you! I swore that if I ever got to meet you I would show you this! I love your style! Your music, your presence, that napkin you dropped at McDono’s–oh wait, no, I didn’t say that...You have to see this tattoo I got to commemorate you!”

“A tattoo? Commemoratating me? Sweet...What’s your name?” Max said. He was a bit stunned, this girl was speaking rather quickly.

“Crysi” the girl said as she took off her over-shirt to reveal a camisole and a massive tattoo. Just under her collar bone she had, in large block letters,

King Max
God of Rock

She spun to reveal an uber-detailed rendition of King Max on her left shoulder blade. He was in a dramatic power stance, hair flying as he struck his favorite chord. Every hair was perfectly colored, from the dirty browns to the dreamy blonds. He had what everyone spent dollar after dollar to achieve in salons. But this beauty couldn’t be achieved through styling... it was something natural that just came from years of not caring, and not conditioning, and just letting it happen, like most of Max’s attributes. Most the jealousy of, well, everyone, came from this fact. He was chosen... they were not.

As she rotated to reveal more of the intricate tattoo, a shadow enveloped her. When the specter passed, Crysi was gone. Max spun about, dumbfounded. The shadow had Crysi thrown over its shoulder and was jogging away at high speed--if you are lost on the concept of jogging please stop reading now and go experience life...

“Hey! What the Hell?! That’s not cool!” Max yelled.

“Dude! Like, come get me!” the shadow yelled back.

Max realized all his bodyguards were lying on the ground, twitching, and deemed them unable to stop this threat. “I”ll have to take care of this one.” Max decided. He sprinted after this shadow, with no regard for his own safety. Little did he know this was only the beginning of a long and gruesome ordeal.

The shadow glanced back to see if his taunting had any affect, grinning confidently. Max then saw the eyes and teeth of the kidnapper. This was not some spectral being, but a person; a very dark person. He’d heard of this person before, kidnaping people for a demented gladiator show. They called him Midnight. But never before had he heard of cute, groupie girls participating.

Just as Max was catching up to Midnight, within tackling distance, Midnight sped up.

“Oh, gawd. Not more running.” Max sighed as he tried to quicken his pace. Midnight was toying with him. Every once in a while Midnight would slow, let Max get a glimmer of hope, then steal it right back as he sped up, laughing his evil laugh.

The chase was far from over. A helicopter flew down from nowhere, Midnight tossed Crysi onto it and kept running, with Max in hot pursuit. Max was tired, but he really had nothing better to do, so he continued the chase. Midnight was far from tired, so he though he might make his run interesting. His first destination was the zoo. Everyone loves animals, especially when they’re wild, but they’re in cages and you can get close to them and taunt them, or talk to them, if you’re Hippie Laura. She would spend hours at the zoo having conversations with the animals, trying to break them out, and yelling at people who littered, cursing them with her hippie magic.

Midnight ran up to the fence around the zoo and leapt it in a single move. Max followed, he undid his cape as he ran up to the fence, it gracefully flowed off his shoulders. Midnight had turned to watch Max fail miserably trying to hop the fence, but he had underestimated King Max. Max hopped the fence with only slightly less finesse than Midnight, who had entirely too much practice. Midnight shrugged and continued running. Luckily the sun was coming up, so Max could follow the shadow that was Midnight. They ran past the lion pen, through the turtles and flamingos, and into the penguin pond. Max was a safe distance behind Midnight, so Midnight stopped to read the little informational sign.

Penguins only mate once a year.

“That’s some interesting information.” Midnight decided after moments of deliberation. Then he continued by jumping into the pond and swimming the bone-chilling waters, Max in close pursuit. Midnight rolled out of the water and scaled the wall without a second thought. Max hopped out of the pool only to see Midnight’s glowing running shoes go over the hand rail 20 feet up. Knowing he’d need rope some time or another, Max had worn about 50 feet of super strong, super small rope around his waist as a belt since he’d become famous. Now was it’s time to be useful. He slipped it off, assembling the grappling hook he’d been using as a buckle, and tossed it over the railing so that it spun around twice and hooked onto itself like in all the cool movies with grappling hooks. He was soon over the railing and running after Midnight once again.

LOL! That's so great!! Thanks for including me, Kat.

Very amusing.

Now, about that tattoo... *wonders when she can get it*

Haha, I just re-read this, and even I'm amused at the stupidity of it all--funny how it sounds as if Kat and I were going out, even way back then in September XD.