The Fantastic One! The Golden Shower! The Most Powerful Groin in the Known Universe! Billy Big Bollocks! These are just some of the sobriquets for the legend that most of us know as Fantasi-Man.  Recently, there was a massive cock up with the universe and it took all of FM’s Fantasti-Powers to put it all back together again (read about it here).  But, even for someone as amazing as F-M, it’s not really feasible to put all the pieces of the universe back together in the same order.  It’s very much an egg\ omelette situation, but, you know, on a somewhat grander scale.  As F-M flew back to Earth, he had little idea what, or who, he’d find there.

And now, the story continues…

It was just after eight (am) when Fantasti-Man flew into Earth orbit, and it wasn’t a moment too soon.  He was gasping for a brew. He crossed his Fantasti-fingers and prayed that tea still existed in this fresh universe.  As he entered the atmosphere – like a glistening cock puncturing a particularly stubborn hymen – his Fantastic-vision frantically scoured the planet’s surface for signs of change.

“Thank Christ for that,” he sighed, as a Toby Carvery hoved into view.  ”I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t have got my fill of roasties.  Now, what about home?”

He didn’t have long to wait for an answer; he did fly really fast, you know.  And he also needn’t have worried.  Not only was his fair city, Largecityopolis, still there, but in its very heart was his 1678-storey home, The Uber-Citdel.  Everything seemed as it was prior to the cosmic cock up, but there was still one thing he needed to make sure of, and that was his beloved, The Ultra-Femicon.  Would Sheila (U-F’s real name) still exist? And if she did exist, would she still feel the same away about F-M?

Fantasti-Man flew in through his bedroom window and felt more anxious than the time that Hairy Mary had kidnapped his testicles.  He hovered, creepily, above the bed.  Sheila lay asleep, her golden breasts even rounder than F-M remembered.  She looked and smelled the same, but would she still be his Sheila?  As her Ultra-senses became cognisant of his presence, her bulbous (but in a nice way) eyes slowly opened and she began to speak (not through her eyes, through her mouth).

“Where the frig have you been, you daft bleeder,” she gasped.  ”It’s your turn to make breakfast and I’m dying for some tea.”

This was all he needed to know.  Everything was as it should be.

“Sheila! Sheila!” he squeaked, like a little girl. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.  But, no, there’s no time to waste, let’s assemble The Justice Club and I can debrief all of the Justice People about the dire straights that have plagued all creation.”

“Justice Club? Justice People?” she replied.  ”What are you talking about? We’re the only super-heroes in all of Largecityopolis.”

F-M banged his fist melodramtically against the headboard before biting hard on it for added effect.  It seemed as though the world’s premier super-team no longer existed.  It looked like they were going to have to hold auditions.

To be continued…

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” roared Lion-O (off of The Thundercats).  ”I’m sick of you lot, I’m going to my room.”

“Blimey,” sighed Panthro.  ”He’s in a right mood, isn’t he?  He’s got such a bag on that I could literally see the Eye of Thundera weeping in frustration.”  The other Thundercats generally agreed with Panthro’s sentiment, but wish he hadn’t had to exaggerate again. The Eye of Thundera was a magical artefact lodged into the hilt of a sword.  Not only could it not weep, but there’s no way that it could understand the concept of frustration.

“Yeah, you’re bob on,” replied Cheetara.  ”He may be the Lord of the Thundercats, but he’s been acting like a right bell end recently.”  Tygra nodded his agreement and tried not to let her see that he was looking down her top.  He loved Cheetara’s furry boobs and couldn’t keep his eyes off them.  Oh, how he longed for his hands to join his eyes on those beautiful bouncy bristols.

“Snarf,” said Snarf.  ”Cut Lion-O some slack, for Christ’s sake.  He’s got a lot on his plate at the moment, so it’s no wonder he’s a bit grumpy.”

“Oh, you’re such a sycophantic little shit,” retorted Panthro.  ”His attitude stinks, so don’t you go making excuses for him.”  As if to emphasise his point, the front door slammed shut.  It appeared as though Lion-O had been listening in to their conversation from the door and hadn’t liked what he had heard.

“Typical,” harrumphed Tygra.  ”I hope Mumm-Ra eats the little prick.”

On this point, the Thundercats were in total agreement.

Let me tell you something, this kid is gonna be a star.  Oh, yes.  He’s going places.  With his chubby cheeks, so rosy, and his resplendent dickie bow, so twattish, who could resist his charms?  Not I! Oh, yes.

Golddiggers beware! The kid ain’t no chump.  Just cos he’s chubby, don’t mean he’s chumpy.  He’s sharp as a tack (drawing pin) and twice as eager.  Can you see how one of his eyes his bigger than the other? Well that’s so he can keep you under surveillance, you cheap slut.  Sure, you wanna take a shtup of his wang in exchange for Jimmy Shoes or a Lewis Vitton satchel, but you better forget it, sister.

The kid is bound to win some awards.  I imagine he’ll start with an Oscar and work his way up from there.  Oh, yes!  He’ll be up there with your De Niroes, Pacinoes and Davroes before you can neck a pepperami.   And, before you ask, I can neck a pepperami in under four minutes.  Gobble gobble.

In conclusion: this kid’s gonna be a star!

Those vampires are all the rage these days, aren’t they? Oh, they’re so cool and sexy, you say, I want to be one!! Why can’t I be a vampire? I’ve got pale skin and I wear black sometimes.  It’s not fair! Wah! Wah! Wah!

You’re an idiot.

Vampires are boring old men who dress like knobs.  Sure, they’ve got pointy teeth, but so what?  The’re dull. So dull.  They’re absolutely obsessed with Saint and Greavsie.  Yeah, you heard me.  Saint and Greavsie.  They’ve not even been on telly for about 20 years, have they?  That’s how far behind the times vampires are.

So.  Are you over the whole vampire thing now? Good.

The captain sailed the seven seas

Not to mention several oceans

But in his heart there was no love

He was going through the motions

The captain had a secret dream

I think you know the answer

He longed to be upon the stage

And become a sexy dancer

The captain moved his chunky bum

All around his cabin

He had to perfect all his moves

To ensure his dream would happen

The captain whirled for all his worth

He had no need to beg

But it’s hard to be the best dancer

When you’ve got a wooden leg

Despite his trendy haircut and frequent excursions to the local gymnasium, Mikey Muscles was lonely.  It appeared that his bulging physique and honest-to-gosh good looks were no guarantee for finding Miss Right.  He had no idea where she might be, despite asking her dad, Ron.  It seemed as though, his search would come to nothing.  His lost love seemed destined to remain lost.

Ron Right was gutted.  Mikey would have made a lovely son-in-law.  Not only was he a caring, sensitive, modern man, but with those muscles he would have been a boon when it came to decorating.  He cursed his daughter, Mangetout, for having disappeared.

Mangetout Right had made a new life for herself in that London.  She had left her stupid father and his idiotic name-giving skills behind.  She was happy now.

Mikey Muscles decided that he would go to the chippy for tea.

Solution to Mind Expander 7 – Red Men

Read the puzzle, here.

The key to solving this particular riddle is the fact that it’s taken me nearly two years to post the answer.  If red men are red, and blue men are blue, but, also, the blue men aren’t blue, then the red men are clearly a allegory for the plight of socialism in this country.  The reference to Jesus weeping, was a red herring.  Or, more accurately, a red “man” herring.  Do you see what I’ve done there?

Mind Expander 8  - Blip Blop

Sandra is playing an early 1980′s arcade game, whilst listening to The Bangles on her Asda-own brand personal cassette player.  She’s wearing leg warmers and a suit with big, massive, fuck-off shoulder pads.  She’s got a mobile phone, but, get this, it’s the size of a brick.  She’s got well big hair.  Some kind of perm.

What year is it?

His partner, Detective Lou Rollinski made his eyebrows go all skew-whiffed in perplexitude.

“Side burns, Dan?” quizzed the subordinate.  ”I didn’t know there was a fire involved in this case.”

Twinkie shook his head.  But he shook it really slowly like he was really trying to emphasise his disgust.  Without a word he moved toward the body and pointed at the victim’s sideys.  Lou was shocked.  How had he not noticed the magnificently crafted mutton chops.

“Sure, Dan,” he blandly stated.  ”They’re spectacular, but I don’t see how…”

“LOOK,” screeched Twinkie, interruptedly.  ”JUST LOOK.”

It was only then that Lou realised what a knob he was being.  The sideburns were far more than impeccably groomed.  They contained a message.  The whiskers were shaved into the words: “I KNOW WHO KILLED ME…”  Lou’s mouth fell agape.

“Finally, he gets it,” Dan sarcastically espoused.  ”We’re dealing with a goddamn serial killer.”

At that moment, Detective Lou Rollinski shat himself.

To be continued….(I wouldn’t hold your breath).

Everything about you is so sexy

You don’t even know what you got

You’ve got the lot

Hang on a minute

I’ve made a mistake

It’s not you that’s sexy

What an error to make

Please don’t feel bad

I wasn’t trying to diss ya

I just got confused

Cos I fancy your sister