Infinitely Entertained

                “In time, you will know what it's like to lose. To feel so desperately that you're right. Yet to fail all the same.” – Thanos

Rights to Disney/Marvel

The Review           

            To be a proper hero you need a great villain. Someone who is powerful, intelligent, persuasive, maybe some can even be sympathetic to the cause. To sum it up; heroes need a substantial threat, especially the super-powered kind. The viewer (see also reader or player) needs to feel as though there is some sense of danger and suspense surrounding the protagonist for which they are rooting. Avengers: Infinity War accomplishes that in this writer’s view.

            So it’s here I want to write about my experience with Avengers: Infinity War. Now that I have completed enough therapy sessions after watching it to feel that I can discuss it and not need a safe space.

            I won’t go into spoilers here, even though I imagine if you are interested in the MCU you’ve likely already ventured to the theater or at least uncovered details of the plot elsewhere. It’s safe to say,  it was full every emotion;  action on many different fronts, touches of great humor between the characters (Bucky and Rocket to name just one), love, respect, and much, much more.

            You may have guessed by now overall, I loved the movie. I grew up with these heroes in nothing but comic book form and the imagination of a teenager to power them. There is something deeply appealing to me about seeing these heroes literally come to life. It is even greater to see them come together in order to overcome the impossible. It motivates me to press on in the face of adversity. That quite simply is the highest compliment you can pay to any art form (Yes I just referred to a genre where the main characters wear tights as an “art form”), is that it pushes you to be a better human being.

The Haters

            What’s odd to me is I continue to see people on social media express their disdain for the super hero genre as overdone, childish or predictable. And to those people, I would say it is. It’s based on fictional characters that have incredible otherworldly powers, also there’s a guy that shoots arrows. All of them are equally interesting to me because of what they stand for, even the villains. So if you don’t like super hero films I have two pieces of advice: 1) Go back to watching Downton Abbey, and 2) Fuck right off because no one asked for your opinion (Somewhat ironic coming from a blogger, no?).

Where I’d Like to See the Next Movie Go

      I enjoy the Avengers (and many DC characters as well). However, my favorite team is the X-Men, specifically Wolverine. As such, it is my hope that at least in the post credit scene of Avengers 4 we get a sneak peek of the X-Men and/or the Fantastic Four. Although, if Disney/Marvel really wants this writer (and many other fanboys and girls) to completely geek out, a full crossover and meeting of these teams fighting side-by-side with the Avengers would be epic (And trust me I’m not the type of guy to throw around the word epic very often)!

            For now, the opening day for the yet untitled Avengers 4 is slated for May 3, 2019. In the meantime, I’ll keep snapping my fingers in anticipation.

Rights to Disney/Marvel

The Less Ordinary Life of Harold: Dairy Comics (Featuring "The Prodigious Cheese-Man")

 

            Harold sits regally atop a throne of gold and yellow.

            “I didn’t ask for this power…”

            As we examine him we can see he is wearing a colored outfit, similar in hue to that of his throne. The garb almost looks like that of a cut rate comic book hero; yellow cape, orange tights, oversized gloves shaped like triangles of pale yellow.

            Harold snaps his fingers. A small square of yellow-orange appears before Harold’s open mouth.

            “This blessing…”

            Harold chomps down on the tiny floating brick of cheese, devours it in one bite. He snaps his fingers again, repeating the process.

            “This curse.”

            “They say with great power comes great responsibility. But even they never knew the power I now hold, and what it might cost me.” Harold gazes down, taking in the ridiculous over-sized gloves covering his hands. He scans the back of his hands in deep contemplation…

*

            …In an alley coated in shadow, two dark figures stand speaking in hushed whispers. It’s easy to tell from their body language and rushed conversation they’re up to no good.

            But then an ethereal figure floats down from the sky. For a moment it resembles our innocent protagonist Harold, but that’s merely a fleeting trick on the eyes. For we now only see…

            “The Prodigious Cheese Man!” One of the ne’er-do-wells cries out, as he takes off running.

            The other pauses, if only to ask, “If he’s got cheese powers, how does that make him fly?”

            A booming voice delivers the line that makes villains quiver with an upset stomach. It is his only response, “Are you fellas lactose intolerant? You will be!”

            Both men are now in full sprint, trying to get to the open street at the end of the alleyway.

            The Cheese Man’s right hand begins to reshape itself, in a few moments where there was an abnormally large gloved hand, there’s now a Gatling-gun shaped appendage.

            “No criminal can escape the Curd Turret!” Cheese Man declares, as he opens fire on the two men. Round upon round of creamy, gel-like cheese curds erupt from the barrel that once was a hand. The substance coats the blacktop, covers the walls of the buildings that form the alley, and pelts dumpsters- the twangy-thud of them echoing off the metal containers.  

            The two men are cut down, covered in a thick layer of cheese curd, so much so that they struggle to move, but cannot.

            Just then a van skids into view at the mouth of the alley. The side panel is flung aside, revealing a mounted gun. A man in a black ski mask grins maniacally behind it.

            “Remember, Cheese-Man; turnabout is fair play!” the masked man cackles into the night, releasing the lever on the .50 caliber machine gun. This time its metal shell casings that ring against the pavement instead of the splat of cheese curds.

            Cheese-Man is forced to take evasive action. He dives behind the closest dumpster, knowing that the gunfire will soon tear through the dumpster’s material. The bullets fly past, some so close Cheese Man can feel the hot break in the air as they whiz by.

            As the chaos surrounds him, Cheese-Man closes his eyes to try and think. Its then he hears the most majestic sound his ears could imagine: a cow mooing into the night.

            Make no mistake, this is no ordinary moo. It’s fearsome and prolonged, more like the feral howl of a wolf than anything a bovine creature might produce.

            Cheese-Man opens his eyes, and finds himself staring up at the moon. Superimposed over it is the shadow of a cow. And lucky for him, it’s not just any cow.

            In a flash, the cow’s silhouette has disappeared from the face of the moon. With a whoosh the panel van in front of the alley is hit from the rear by what seems to be a cannon. The vehicle rocks on its frame, causing the masked machine gunner to fly forward, the machine gun grows still and quiet.

            One of the thugs ensnared within the mound of cheese curds comments, “So the cow can fly too? I don’t understand any of this.”

            “Shut up you!” Cheese-Man emerges from the alley and is greeted by a green cow, wearing what appear to be yellow galoshes, and matching goggles.

            “Moo the Cow, ol’ friend!” Cheese-Man attempts to high-five the cow.

            The cow replies with, “Moo.”

            “Oh ya, right.” Cheese-Man lowers his hand realizing his mistake, “Well it’s great to see you as always. Your timing is impeccable.”

            However, fate’s sense of timing is more macabre.

            The masked man is dizzy as he tumbles from the passenger side of the van. Though this does not seem to affect the grip he has on the pistol in his hand. He staggers towards our distracted heroes.

            Cheese-Man’s back is to the masked man, but Moo the Cow sees the villain clearly. “Mooooo!” the cow pitches Cheese-Man out of the way, as the masked man raises his gun.

            Two shots are fired as Cheese-Man looks on in horror.

*

            Again, we are transported back to Harold, the Cheese-Man that was, and will forever be sitting atop his throne alone.

            “Yes,” he says to himself solemnly, “great powers indeed…but even with great powers I fall short of being able to stop a bullet, return the dead to life, or perform mouth-to-snout resuscitation.”

            Cheese-Man is through grieving. He rises to through the air, clenching his fists in rage. As he floats there, hovering above the ground he vows, “I will find this masked man and I will make him pay. I promise you Moo!”

*

            In the background of the room, the two thugs from the alleyway, are still frozen in dry cheese curd, hardened to the density of stone. One looks to the other, “I still don’t get how he can fly. I don’t care how cheesy his powers are. They can’t make you fly?”

            His partner responds, “Oh my God! Shut up already!”

            “What? It’s a legitimate question!”

 

THE END?

 

R.I.P. Moo the Cow 7/17/17-7/17/17

 

D.I.P.S.H.

“So Captain Accelo it’s been a year and I thank you for your service to our company.”

A man in a red full length bodysuit featuring crisscrossing white electrical bolts across its front sits casually in front of a giant desk. The get up looks to be made of a tight fitting Lycra.  “Thanks it's been--”

The Director holds up a hand, stopping Captain Accelo’s response. He then turns his chair away from his desk, and looks out of the large picture window behind him. He wears a pair of reflective chrome sunglasses, the type that a state trooper might wear.  The Director does not remove them to further enjoy the view.

From the window, a huge city scape can be seen; towering skyscrapers, a bay filled with watercraft, and a huge grassy area that appears to be a city park.

Captain Accelo sits, quietly confused for several moments. Finally, he speaks; “I’m sorry what are we doing here?”

“Ha, why I’m practicing ‘authoritative superiority’ of course! It's from my book; The Director: Managing People with Personalities that are Just the Worst.” Without facing forward, The Director stands, adjusts what appears to the Captain to be a rather expensive suit, and walks away from his desk. In a hush, “Ah yes, nearly forgot, I need to establish dominance by standing as my inferior remains seated. Finally The Director turns back to Captain Accelo, “Please have a seat…” a hand extends to the Captain.

“I’m already sitting…?” Captain Accelo reminds The Director.

The Director doesn’t acknowledge the comment, instead he begins a diatribe, “We here at Department of International Professional Society of Heroes, a registered trademark of Maximum Corporation, a subsidiary of Maximum Media, believe that at the one year anniversary of a team member, we should conduct an assessment of the member’s behavior and work performance that will determine both an overall rating and any increase levels of compensation for the coming year.” As he speaks, The Director continues to wander around the room.

Captain Accelo leans forward, “Are you saying it’s my annual review?”

“Yes, yes but so much more,” The Director has an odd air about him, he seems excited, and perhaps proud, but his stance, diction and rhetoric make one wonder if he’s not just playing some off-putting gag.

“What else does it entail then?”

“Glad you asked!” The Director rushes back to his desk, and sits, “You aren’t just getting evaluated, you get the opportunity to rate yourself!”

“Ok.” followed by an eye roll.

“Go ahead, give it a try,” The Director seems overly enthusiastic.

A bit uneasy, Captain Acccelo takes a few seconds to look for the right words,  “Umm...well I was instrumental in all of the team missions this year, I’ve saved 223 civilians to date since being with the company, and I bake a cake for everyone in the office on their birthday. Well, except for Castigator, he’s diabetic and all.”

“That really is great, really.” The Director takes a deep breath. So on a scale from one to ten, ten being the best team member you could be, where would you place yourself?”

“Hmm, that’s a tough one, we have so much talent on the team…”

Accelo is thinking it over, as The Director speaks with ignorant disregard, “So much talent, yes so many other talented team members, you should keep that in mind as you answer.”

“I’d say umm, I dunno, 8 i guess?”

The Director lets out a powerful belly laugh, following by a machine gun of smaller, stunted laughter. He slams a fist down on his desk, and tries to catch his breath. “You an 8! Are you for real right now?”

Red faced now to match his outfit, Captain Accelo reconsiders, “7?”

More laughter from The Director.

“Geesh, umm, 6?”

Pausing for breaths between chuckles The Director gets out the following, “You...think...you’re...a 6?”

“Sweet Jesus,” Captain Accelo throws his hands up in disbelief.

“You can’t even fly!”

“I’m super fast! ‘Accelo’ you know as in ‘accelerate’!”

“We have to chauffeur you around in the DIPSH Jet! Do you know how much fuel costs for that thing? Not to mention it’s adverse effects on the environment.”

Accelo is clearly beside himself, “‘Chauffeur me around’! What the hell!”

Still recovering from his laughing fit, The Director adds, “Besides, do you know what kind of pay grade you’d be in if you could learn to fly?”

“But I can’t fly. I’m the speedster of the group.”

“You’d wanna learn to fly, if i could tell you,” tauts The Director.

Accelo seems a bit desperate, “But that’s not my power! Remember the whole struck by lightning during the lunar eclipse when I was doing routine janitorial work on the military base after they tested that nuclear bomb?”

“That doesn’t ring a bell. Anyway, I’ll tell you what your pay would be if you could just learn to fly…Do you wanna know?”

“I can’t ‘learn to fly’” whines Accelo.

“675,000 dollars more a year!”

Accelo perks up, “Wow, really that much?”

“Ya but you can’t fly…” reminds The Director.

“Maybe I could get lessons from Extraordinary Storckman?”

“Maybe...but without the whole flying thing…”

“I’m a five?”

“Solid five, with the potential to be a seven-maybe even an eight!” The Director adds.

Somewhat disappointed, Accelo asks, “And what about a merit raise?”

The Director simply folds his hands into the shape of a bird, and makes a flapping motion.

Captain Accelo stands, head drawn down to his chin and slinks out of the office.

The Director stretches out in his chair. He giggles absently while shaking his head, “Seriously, the guy thought he was an 8…”