Part 5:

One
Two
Three
Four

“LINE CHANGE FUCKERS!” Robo-Wides’ shot neurons from his computerbrain at the speed of light down to his leg, which immediately fired off. grabbing all his other-worldly teammates on his way into the Mark 2. And just as fast as they had appeared they were gone.

“We’ve stabilized” said #3 

“Where are we!?” said Old Man Fighter Calson popping a Calcitrex, before offering them to the rest of the Mark 2 travelers. They all declined, “Strong Bones makes good fighters.” No one cared. Brucey done gone and set off the doomsday machine. They were sad. 

“floating through the 8th dimension.” said #3

“TAKE US BACK!” DJ king screamed as he took control.

Inside a crater so large it has it's own atmosphere.

Vrrrooppppppppppp POooopppppvpvvverrrrr. 

“My buttole!” said robo-wides opening the door, the shock so great his sphincter exploding out his poop chute. The Mark Poopoo was in the middle of a giant crater a football field wide and a futbol field deep. 

“LINE CHANGE FUCKERS” came over the radio. ‘Well thats a strange thing to hear, they were just playing Tommy James and the Shondells.’ thought Dale Hunter letting his sunglasses slide down his greasy nose to glance at the digital radio readout in his BB customized Mercedes. ‘Perhaps it is just interference out here in the Shenandoah Valley, where I take a drive every saturday morning, far away from any current Caps player’ Or, thats what he would have thought had his tits not been ripped out through his eye sockets at that very moment. An explosion the size of huge but not so big it would reach anyone else had torn his body to nothing but atoms, ashes too good for a defense minded trap heavy motherfuck.

'oooh, I think we're alone NAHAHGGGHHHG'

30 miles away Smitty took an envelope of cash from a mole in a trenchcoat. “What was that I injected into Dale?” The mole said nothing, and knowing his work was done, but unable to cope with the consequences of returning to a bloodthirsty horde of molepeople, produced a gun from his mole pouch and shot himself in the head. 50 years later, as the snow slowly began to blanket the Greater Washington D.C. area Smittys wife, children and grandchildren, all tried to get his attention, it was christmas after all, and maybe this year would be different. But for the last half century of his life Smitty near’y uttered a word, he sat and stared at the giant mole he had taxidermed that fateful day in 2012.

Far below the freshly made crater the mole people partied like Ewoks. Their first doomsday device a success. Work must immediately begin on the next one.

Far below the mole people a giant snarling beast stomped out his cigarette with cloven hooves. His red arm, the size of one of those great oaks in california you can drive through pulled tightly on the chain of his dog, Cerberus.

Everything was a bit fuzzy, a heavy metal collar, naked, NAKED? The first thought was that he was damn sure he didnt look good naked. His eyes adjusted...

WELCOME TO HELL. YOU’RE FUCKED.

"Hell"™ and all associated characters
 Trademark The Walt Disney Corporation 

Bruce recognized a familiar bald pattern on the man several in front of him. Moose. Their metal collars attached, behind him as well, a line of prisoners being marched through giant red gates. Slowly they moved, one at a time, Satan welcoming them personally.

Bruce had no fear, Everyone on earth had known he was the baddest motherfucker of all time, now he was just playing in the majors.

“MOOSE MASON.” Satans voice shook the ground. “WHAT THE SHIT, BRO?”

“I, well, I did just lik-”

“NO. I GAVE YOU A NEW HEART. I LET YOU LIVE FOR WHAT?”

“But...Theres no way he survived! He must be down here, just behind me!”

“YOU...YOU BROUGHT HIM HERE! YOU WERE SUPPSOED TO DESTORY HIS SOUL BY DESTROYING THE CUP WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU...is that him? shit...shh, stay quiet, dont look.”

“Yeah I think thats hi-”... he didnt finish before one of the heads of Satans doggy ate him. 

“NOW YOU WILL BE A LITERAL SHIT STAIN” said satan trying to bluff some tough stuff

Whatever weird off-brand Salacious Crumb Satan used as a check in guy laughed and laughed and laughed...The prisoners continued to move forward. And with every punishment the little creature laughed harder and harder. O.B.S.C. looked up to check in the next permeant visitor to hell. His face turned to stone. “Bru...Bru...”

“SPEAK UP!” 

“Brugs Brodeout!” Said the third rate rat-boy. Gasps came from behind satan, down in deep burghs of hell. The pittsburghs of hell. Satan’s fire red skin turned pink. 

“Whats the matter Jeff? You look like youve lost your color.”

"You're not gonna tell my mom, are you Mr. B?" sniffle

“IF YOU’RE HERE...WE CAN WORK THIS OUT...HAHAH! IF YOURE HERE IT CAN ONLY MEAN ONE THING.”

“Not quite little lady” Said Bruce toots reaching through his many butt crevices. “It means two very specific things.” From his bee-hole he pulled out his phone. “Do you think I hadn’t planned for this?” Satan reached back and back and back, his arm moving like Mr. Fantastic, as it retracted he held The lovely Ms. Crystal Boothoreau in his hand. 

“HERE! PLEASE! DON’T HURT US HEH HEH”. Bruce never had the patience for nervous laughers.

“Well, thats one th- Wait” he turned to Crystal. “Why are you in hell?” 

“I knew it wasn’t you when I gave moosey a crumpkin.” Brucey’s skin turned redder than Satans.

DJ had been crying for the better part of an hour. “Holy shit, forget saving bruce, how do we get this BABY to shut up. Theres got to be something that we can do.” said number 2

"youre a baby" said DJ

A long pause as they all mulled over the seemingly endless possibilities of the Mark 2.

“Well, there is only one place Bruce would end up.” said fighter Carlson.

“You dont mean-” said robo-wides, as if it was going to be a surprise.

“Mr Hendi-Hop the Third, set a course for Hell.”

"I said you're the baby"

VRRRROOOOOMMMPPPPPP VRRRRROOOOPPPPPPP

kkkksshhhhhhhhhhhh

There was no rush in opening a door to hell. Fighter Calston drew his breath purposefully. Like checking to see if a can of sardines is rotten, he carefully peeled back the entrance to the Mk II. His brain told him the others would demand a status report, but there were no words. "Shut up brain" he muttered. tossing the door back and stepping forward, the others slowly peered out, one by one following Castleton.

There, in the middle of an idea, in the middle of the universe, in the middle of a a planet, in the middle of Mountains made of spikes, in the middle of a lake of fire, in the middle of an island covered with every weapon known to man, was the largest pile of dead bodies any entity has ever witnessed.  And it was there, in the middle of the millions...billions of slain bodies stood a proud man, a chubby man, a naked man.  Every and any being from any time on any plane in any universe that had committed evil lay slain. The mountain their broken bones formed, became an alter for Bruce Boodyrel, New king of Hell. Only three headed puppy was spared his life, but not its purpose, it would spend eternity moaning and licking the hand of his dead master.

Clothes added for your pleasure, not my connivence.

Quickly sliding down Mt. Dead Evil-Doers the pink fat man was riding a sled made out of hitler. 'Made out of' meaning he was riding hitler. his dead body. because thats mega badass.

“Hello Boys. Glad you could make it to the party.” said BRUCE BOUDREAU 

“How...Wha...” Said everyone else left alive in perfect unison.  

“Well don’t looked so shocked, you’ve seen me on the bench, you know I can get angry!”

“But How?!” Naked Brucey looked down

“Holy Shit” said number 3

“Thats a big dick” said robot wideman.

“Yes, I Bruce Bardot, stabbed all the evil in the everyverse to double death with my dick. What a time! How did you boys get here? Or to Moose Mason’s house? I was so intent on killing my evil-twin I didn't even ask.”

"Brucey Saw Beautiful Realities"
Photo: Jacky T/Getty Images

Hendi-hop number 2 went into the Mark 2 to cook up some tea while the others chatted about everything in existence and explained M-theory to Bruce. They took him inside and showed him around the control room and then around the 10 dimensions. (well, like, there are 11, right, but like, 10 only exist on planes, the 11th being the strings that are everywhere and in everything)

And they were off...

Bruce saw so many beautiful realities!

He saw what life would have been like if the habs hadn’t been sucking the referees dicks for goalie interference calls. ...that beautiful cup

He saw what life could have been had rolo tony not been on more sterroids than Stallone. ...back to back, glowing and golden.

He saw what life would have been if his shitstain brother hadnt drugged him, converted his team to trap bullshit. ...dynasty. oh sweet jesus, dynasty. 

“Boys” he said. the tears coming from his eyes. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

And in a VRRROROOPPPPPPPP VVVRRRRRROOOOOOPPPPP VVVRRRROOOOOPPPPP they were gone.

INTERSTELLAR ADVENTURE AWAITS!

39 Mk. II Years later....55 Earth Years Prior


DJ King had never been out exploring a world on his own. But how dangerous could 1957 be? A quick trip to stock up, Hurricane Audrey had decimated refrigerators along the entire northwest hemisphere, putting ice cream prices at an all time low. 

It was at the out front of the grocers that the gray haired and 'aged so therefore extra special' King laid his eyes on a tubby youngster with his parents.

"Oh wow!" kings use of exclamation point showed his excitement to the readers "Is that your kid?

"Of course" said the father, throwing his arm around his son.

"I know someone that looks just like him...or did..or...wait...wait!" King realized what he was seeing and began to gush about the kids future. The greatest this... The ultimate that... "You've just gotta believe me!" he finished.

"Why wouldn't we! Its 1957, you're white, and we're Canadian! Come on son, lets get outta here, we've got to go to the toy store and buy you some presents!"

King smiled and wandered back to the Mk. II with the 2 ton drum of rocky road ripple. He would later masterbate to the thought that he met little brucey.

"Shouldn't we wait for Brucey to get out of the bathroom?" said the tubby youngster.

"Fuck that little bitch!" Said Poppa Boody "He can find new parents. That man said you're my special little meal ticket Moose Mason, and I'm gonna treat you right!"

That you should never trust DJ King.

And the idea of BB commenting on every Caps game just doesn't make sense anymore. It's an outdated theme, and I'm no unsliced bread supporter. Don't be sad, kitty, it just means we're going open source, and you can take brucey on any adventure you want!

ANYTHING SENT TO THIS E-MAIL (under 10mb) WILL BE PUBLISHED IMMEDIATELY. 

Cool right? Images and text and music even work I think . Pretty crazy, clearly we're in the future.

Thx 4 da laffs friends,
Bruce Toots