Millenia ago, in the time we now refer to as the Bronze Age (at the time, they called it the Age of Bronze) there was a mighty king: Horatio of Bahdeyedia. Horatio ascended to the throne of Bahdeyedia at the age of fourteen after his father, the King was sold to a supervillain. It did not take long for Horatio to adjust to his new role, for before he reached the age of fifteen he had doubled the size of his country’s army and declared war on every neighboring country, and one country several continents away.

Horatio wanted nothing more than to rule the world. He loved his country with all his heart and thought that it deserved to be expanded to the ends of the Earth under his magnificent rule. During the bloody wars that followed for the next two decades he spends much time studying strategy and training his troops to make an unstoppable conquering army. But no matter what he tried, he never felt fully satisfied with his work.

One day he spoke to his Chief Advisor-slash-Court Jester’s apprentice.

“Bagmo,” said King Horatio “I’ve come to realize that no amount of training will make my troops more efficient.”

“This is true,” said Bagmo, “They’re already the best they can be with the tools given to them.”

“Then I must give them new tools of some kind!”

“But what tools could this be, my King?”

“Weapons! They need new weaponry. Something that will give us an edge over all other countries.”

“Brilliant idea, my King!” Bagmo exclaimed “What do you–”

Then the Court Jester entered the room and bellowed “Hey, Bagmo! Get off your everlovin’ ass and help me find my brightest green codpiece!”

“But, Sir!” Bagmo replied “I am trying to act as the King’s advisor!”

“Screw that noise!” Yelled the Jester. “If I don’t get that codpiece within half an hour there’s gonna be a lot unhappy Spaniards in the courtyard! If they start throwing feces, it’ll be your fault!”

“Do as you must, Bagmo,” said King Horatio as he stood up to leave. “Your job as the Jester’s apprentice is just as important to the health of the country as your job advising me. Anyway, I must ponder the new weapon.”

“As you wish, Sire.”

As the king left, the Jester punched Bagmo in his crotch.

Horatio decided what he had best to do and a week later the proclomation went out: “All Inventers are Summoned to the King’s Castle where they shall Invent Weapons for the King!” The idea was to have all the inventers come up with a weapon idea, which they would present to King Horatio. Horatio would then pick the invention he liked most and that inventer would be generously rewarded.

Two weeks later the Weapons Presentation was held. The first presenter was Ashby O’Grocky (not the one who was in that famous band, the other one. The inventer.) Ashby presented his new weapon: The Sonic Catapult!

The Sonic Catapult was demonstrated by blowing a boulder to smithereens. The King was pleased.

The second inventor, Ivan Thrombosis showed the crowd his device, which he had dubbed ‘the Automated Assassin’.

“All you need to do,” Ivan said “is flip this switch here, then show the Automated Assassin a picture of his target. You then hit this button and… voila!”

To test the weapon, they decided to assassinate Old Farmer Watkins, who, they all agreed had been ‘kinda whiney lately’. The King was pleased.

Inventer Number Three was Robert J. Crossbow. A humble man, Robert had taken the existing designs for bows and arrows and put them into a more compact form that was easier to operate. He demonstrated by shooting an apple. The King was not pleased.

“That’s all? I gave you two weeks to design a spectacular weapon of war and that is all you could design? Fie! You are a base fool! Leave this country and never return, under penalty of DEATH!”

With that, two guards (one a serious by-the-books experienced guard, the other a rookie who is always crackin’ wise) seized Robert J. Crossbow and tossed him onto the road out of the country.

The fourth presentation of New Weapons was the Supernuclear Explosion Maker presented by Werner ‘Shattered Femur’ Blitzmann. He told the King of its immense potential, how it could destroy an entire country with the greatest of ease. The King was pleased, and demanded that he be shown how it works. Blitzmann was a total nutjob, so he was more than happy to demonstrate his weapon.

Robert J. Crossbow had just reached the borders of Bahdeyedia as the trigger was pulled and he was knocked to his feet by the resulting explosion. Robert went on to sell his invention to the Spaniards.

The only other survivors of the Great Bahdeyedia Explosion were the Court Jester and Bagmo, who went on to travel the world entertaining everyone, except each other and the Watkins Widow, who spread stories of how robots were evil that led to the anti-robot sentiment still present this day.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Impact
Originally posted on Contains2 Friday 05 September 2003

On Friday Night, I got to see Louis C.K. do his stand up comedy routine at a public staging of that stand up comedy routine. It was very good. Seriously though, if that man is doing a public staging of his stand up comedy routine in your town, I recommend you go see the public staging of his stand up comedy routine.

We showed up late and had to find our seats while some opening act guy was on. No biggie. We still got to see Louis. And he delivered entertainment. I give his show a Five out of Six Pieces of PDR’s Reviewing System Cake. He makes the bleak realities of modern life amusing. What impressed me most is that I’ve watched many appearances of Louis C.K. and specials and whatnot and there was not one joke in this act that I had heard before. Marq says that when he appeared on the radio the morning of the show he said he is constantly updating his material. It shows and I thank him for it. My refusal to watch any clips of him between buying the tickets and the show now seems unnecessary.

A conundrum though, I’ve always pronounced his name like “Louie” because I’m almost positive that that was how it was said back when he used to be on Conan and I know his show was called Lucky Louie. But Marq said the radio was pronouncing the “S” and I saw a commercial for upcoming film The Invention of Lying which seemed to pronounce the “S” as well. I could look it up online, I’m sure, but instead I’m just gonna write about it here. We have yet to watch his recent appearance on Conan’s new show and I am confident that it will help me to learn the correct pronunciation.

Apart from that, I’ve not much else to say. A couple more comics from the Contains2 days have been put up in the comics section and I expect that after I post this I will also take a prose story from the old days and bring it to life on this site. It also occurs to me that there are a few actual videos and animations that I should be salvaging from the Contains2 wreckage as well. The Internet currently doesn’t know how much it is missing.

I have just uploaded the latest chapter of Adventure Dennis. It is worth noting that that rounds out my average to one level for every year since I started making Adventure Dennis. That is, of course, pathetic. I am hoping to actually finish the thing off over the next few months, so maybe I will be able to get that average up to 1.5 a year. Hooray!

Haiku!

In these troubled times,
There will come a unique man.
He will eat a moon.

In other news, I have been reading the Iliad and it is taking me FOREVER. I mean, getting through Don Quixote actually took most of a year, I think, so the two months I have been at the Iliad are paltry in comparison, but for the last year I had been working through about a book a week. It might help if I read at home instead of just at free moments at work and on buses and what not, but I have the Internet at home. Productivity just ain’t gonna happen.

Also, ducks should have a species of fish that helps them out. That would be real teamwork.

That’s all.

So I did up that Hover Head comic strip there as a continuation of my learning to use the hand drawing table thing. I am also learning much about coloring them. Granted Hover Head it about as easy to draw as a superhero could be and my coloring style is quite simplistic as well, but I like it.

Also, I have just posted a story I wrote for Contains2 way back. I will probably continue moving my writings from Contains2 over here, since I’d like to have them online somewhere and the fixing of Contains2 is probably still years away from happening. I began going through “Money, Guns and Mustard” with the intent of fixing it so it was consistently written in one tense, but I just couldn’t decide on whether past or present worked better so I am leaving it as the poorly-written piece of nonsense it was created to be and should be.

All in all I’m working towards making the Book of PDR actually have content on it. A novel idea.

Joey ran from the scene as quick as he could. Sirens were already blaring and getting nearer. As Joey pumped his arms (gun in the left, money in the right) he made a conscious effort to clear his mind and think of nothing but escape. He’d try to figure out what had gone wrong when he was safe.

Back at the bank, Sam and Tim were, in Joey’s opinion, making a fatal error. Joey bolted with what little cash he had as soon as the alarm sounded. Sam and Tim continued to fill their bags from the vault and were now waiting for Cedric to pull the van up to the door and get them out of there. As they wait, the police get closer.

Joey turned into an alley. He knows the town, having lived here a few years back. Right here should be, yes, there it is, a fire escape. He climbed quickly.

Cedric skids to a quick stop. The sliding door opens, the two robbers jump in. A police squad car appears around the corner behind them. The van begins to move even with its door still open.

Joey reaches an open window and jumps inside. He’s in an apartment. As he expected, nobody appears to be home. He wants a sandwich.

Cedric zigs and zags through the light afternoon traffic as more and more police cars join the pursuit. The van narrowly avoids being cut off by a newcomer, then turns, heading for the highway.

Joey finds ham and mustard in the fridge. There is also bread on the counter that appears quite fresh. He puts down his gun and money.

Sam leans out a window of the van and fires his pistol at one of the squad cars. Tim and Cedric shout at each other, arguing about which way to go.

Joey, using a knife from the dishwasher, spreads mustard on two slices of bread. He adds the ham. He sits down. He turns on the television.

Cedric reaches the onramp, and cuts off a white Dodge Shadow to get into the right lane. The police pursuit, now eight cars strong, continues.

Joey flips through the channels. He stops when he finds a cartoon. He begins to eat the sandwich.

The van cruised down the highway. Sam occasionally fired at the squad cars. Tim stuffed money into his pockets, thinking if he had to make a run for it, he didn’t want to lose the cash.

A mile ahead Brad drove his eighteen wheeler down the highway, eating a ham sandwich, dripping with mustard.

Joey looked up at the clock. 2:37. If her routine hadn’t changed, that old lady who lived here wouldn’t be home for hours yet. He contemplated making another sandwich even before finishing the first.

Cedric’s heart pounded. Tim’s eyes moved quickly, trying to find a means of escape. Sam’s finder once again pulled the trigger. This time, only a click.

Mustard fell from Brad’s sandwich and landed on his pants. The pants Martha had got him just last week. He felt like an idiot and reached for a napkin.

Joey finished the sandwich and counted the money he had. $720. Better than nothing, he supposed. He stood up.

The van began to slip out of Cedric’s contol. It was not meant to go as fast as it was.

Brad’s eyes never left the road. He grabbed a napkin and rubbed and dabbed at the mustard on his pants. Ahead he saw a lot of flashing lights. They were in the opposite lane, so Brad decided he didn’t need to pull over. He continued trying to clean his mess.

Joey found a pair of scissors and went into the old lady’s bathroom. He began to cut his hair as short as possible.

Cedric panicked and swerved the steering wheel. Tim had braced himself, but cursed. Sam fell out the still opened door and rolled. The van spun into the opposite lane.

Brad, being a professional, stopped before hitting the van. He then decided to position his trailer across the lane, leaving the van no escape.

Joey then found a razor and began to shave his head. He figured he’d make another sandwich before he left. He didn’t hear the door open.

Cedric was forced to stop the van. Tim was already running. Cedric fumbled with his seatbelt. The police cars that hadn’t stopped by Sam were now upon them.

Brad saw a man with a gun running towards his rig. He knew he had plans of hijacking. Brad grabbed the nearest thing he thought could be used as a weapon.

Chris had stopped into his grandmother’s apartment to give her back a movie he’d borrowed. He saw a gun on the coffee table next to a stack of twenty-dollar bills. He heard someone in the washroom.

Joey, while shaving, ran his tongue along his teeth and found a piece of mustard covered bread there.

Cedric got out of the van, raised his hands, and got to the ground. Wounded Sam was already being loaded into an ambulance.

Tim opened the door to the sixteen wheeler and pointed his gun inside. Brad drew his arm back.

Chris grabbed the gun.

Tim’s eyes widened.

Joey noticed movement in the mirror.

A half-eaten sandwich left Brad’s hand and hit Tim’s face. As he fell back, the gun fired twice into the air.

Joey spun around, already cursing his leaving the gun on the table. To think he considered himself a professional.

The cops surrounded Tim. Brad, shaken, couldn’t bring himself to look out the door of his truck.

Joey grabbed the scissors and got up against the wall. Maybe it had been a cat?

Chris was against the opposite side of the wall. He held his breath.

Joey moved slowly, looking in the mirror to see out the door.

Chris swallowed hard.

Joey jumped through the door and rolled towards the table. In an instant he saw the gun was gone. He turned.

Chris had started and nearly dropped the gun. He composed himself and aimed.

Joey threw the scissors. They missed their mark and stuck into the wall. Joey dove for the cash on the table as the first shot rang out.

Chris fired a second time as the stranger fluidly took the money and headed to the window. Chris didn’t want to hurt the man, but couldn’t let him get away.

Joey dove through the open window, hurting his shoulder when it hit the rail of the escape. A third shot rang out and he got to his feet.

Chris got to the window and saw the man running down to the street. Chris took aim and fired again. The man fell.

Joey’s leg bled. He was on ground now. He still held his money, but he couldn’t get anywhere wounded.

Chris was dialing the police, but it was unnecessary as officers who had been down the road at the bank had heard the shots and come running.

Joey crawled, trying to hide behind a dumpster, but it did him no good. He wished he’d made that second sandwich.

Tim, Sam, Cedric, and Joey all went to prison. Chris considered keeping the money on his grandmother’s coffee table, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Brad’s pants were not stained. The end.

Patrick D Ryall, the D is for Germs
Originally posted on Contains2 Monday, 01 March 2004