Episode 6: The Ample Foregather with the Latino Hispid Scriuridae

Introduction:

For those that are wondering, this story is not Part two of the Chimichanga of Time. The rest of that story will be told at a later time. I am sure some of you are absolutely heart broken and will not be able to sleep at night, so I will give you a clue as to what will happen in the Chimichanga Saga....something spectacular.

As for this story....the events of this one actually take place before Episode III, but I did not feel it necessary to tell this epic tale before the Hairless Wig of Forever Wisdom. So now let me set the scene.

A terrible and unknown foul beast is plaguing the innocent, joyful, boring, and uneventful town of Martinsville, Indiana. This unknown critter has killed numerous citizens in Jimmy Nash Park, the highlight place of this Patriotic redneck community. It leaves strange and unidentifiable markings on its victims.

Disgruntled like Post Office workers, the frightened town officials attempted to keep the townspeople calm, told the locals it was just a coincidental and unrelated series of deaths involving the misuse of jump ropes. Realizing the good people of the town would not believe this for long, the Mayor called in an animal expert named Azmorott, who also happened to be a mercenary for hire, to kill this creature. After weeks of unsuccessful attempts, Azmorott finally flipped his lid.

Desperate, the Mayor did the best thing he could, he bought a bright light and shined it into the sky, only the light formed a giant nine. The Mayor hoped the Great American Hero would come save the day and rid the little town of a thorn in it side. For he would be the only one that could save M’ville from its likely end....
*****

A random point on the map. I was convinced that was what Rodney did. Just took his finger, which is greater than that of any ordinary human being, and pointed to this dump in the middle of John Kerry Hating nowhere. Where is this no where, in the middle of Martinsville, Indiana. I thought Kentucky was the hick capital of the world, boy was I wrong. This town had a river following through it called the White River, but there was nothing white about it. This river made the Ganges River look like clean bathing water, it sends a nasty shutter down my spine just thinking about it.

"This is the stupidest place I have ever been in," said Pierre.

"I will give you that, but nationally at least they know where they stand," I replied, "Where as your country is nationalistically confused."

"Chill, Big L," said the magnificent Rodney, I went silent quick. "We here on a very serious situation." I was very curious on how Rodney decided to come here. For he received no cell phone calls, he didn’t have any visions, or get a letter in the snail mail.

"Rodney, how did you know this is where you are suppose to be?" I asked bewildered.

"Well, as we were sitting one night, I looked up into the sky and a long ways off of, I saw my signal. A giant nine shining in the sky. I knew in my heart this is where I was suppose to go." As we stood underneath the starry sky, I saw it in its magnificent beauty. The beautiful number nine, brilliantly lighting the Martinsville sky.

We went to an old fashion looking fire station which also happened to be the police department and city hall. Inside we were greeted by a rotund fellow.

"Hello, I am Mayor Kirkbus," said Kirkbus, "We have not a moment to waste, for the whole town could be lost if we don’t act quickly." Noticing that this man was quite the watermelon, I had to make a comment.

"You fatty are in no condition to get anywhere quickly," I joked. The man standing next to him pulled out a pistol and shot at the ground in front of me, barely missing my toes.

"This is Azmorott," said Kirkbus, ignoring my comments. Rodney stepped forward to shake Azmorott’s hand. I had to laugh, Azmorott looked like a white-arab-wannabe. He had the turban and all.

"To cut to the chase," said Rodney, always getting to the heart of the situation, wasting no time trying to save lives, "What is this that haunts this peaceful town?"

Azmorott looked solemnly at the ground and then looked around him. "Let us go inside," he said, nudging Rodney into the city hall/police station, "such words of evil I will not utter out here." They went inside and once in there, Azmorott shaking uncontrollably spoke, "It is El Squirrel. The most terrifying and deadly creature on this planet."

At just the sound of the name El Squirrel, Mayor Kirkbus wet his large pants and two officers cried out in shear terror. Pierre tried to run, but he tripped and fell over my feet which I had stuck out for that very purpose. Rodney stood in wonder.

Looking into his heroic eyes, I could almost see into his very mind. The wheels in his head were already turning, the course of action already figured out.

"Mayor, you need to close the park, now," said Rodney. The mayor looked around in disbelief, as if he could not believe Rodney was ordering him.

"Excuse me, did you say close the park?" asked the mayor. Rodney shook his head yes. "That is the only source of entertainment in this town, the youth would be crushed. I can’t do that. If I did we would have a panic on our hands."

"Listen here Chubby cheeks," I said, "If you don’t close that park down, you are going to have a picnic on your hands. And I ain’t talk about the kind with little Timmy and Jane who are on their first date. I am talking about this killing machine." Surprisingly, Azmorott was in agreement because as the mayor’s aid attempted to shoot me again, he punched him right in the forehead.

"Call me names all you want," said the mayor, "but I am not closing that park down. It will be open." I took the mayor up on his offer, calling him every name in the book including John Kerry lover and French peon. It still had no effect on him. Rodney finally silenced me and we headed out to the park.

It was actually quite a place, with a huge hill on the left as you entered and a large pool by a baseball diamond at the hill’s base. On the right were some shelter houses and a small pond. There was a small black car parked in front of it.

Pierre saw the playground and went to fill his desires playing on the monkey bars. Rodney and Azmorott planned to scout the area. After a few minutes, Rodney asked me to go over to that parked car and alert them to the situation. I agreed to do it, with pleasure.

Walking over to the car, I gently knocked on the window. No one answered me, but I could hear voices. So I knocked again. Still they did not answer. Finally, I jerked open the door and to my surprise found two people in the front seat.

"Who are you?"I asked.

"I am Timmy, and this is my girlfriend Jane," said the man, trembling with fear. I chuckled to myself remembering what I said to mayor fatso. I started to tell them to get out of there because a psycho freak squirrel was on the loose, but a loud shriek echoed through the park.

I looked across and saw Pierre running full speed towards me. He was screaming and shouting things in french, I did not understand them (nor did I want too). As he neared me I began to hear a strange noise. It sounded like a weed whacker, but it could not be.

Then yoda-like, I saw a squirrel pop out of know where wearing a sombrero ,swinging a miniature weed eater, and screaming "arariba, arariba!"

"Don’t hurt me!" cried Pierre.

"Die meat bag!" said the squirrel. Yes, the squirrel called Pierre a meat bag! It was great!

It swung its weapon and sliced a tiny slit in Pierre’s wrist. He fell to the ground, bellowing out in pain. The squirrel slowly inched toward him ready to turn him into chopped carrots. Just in the nick of time, a football came whizzing in and knocked the weed eater from the squirrel’s paws.

"Uhoh..." cried the squirrel and he darted off into the woods.

I looked at Pierre lying on the ground balling like a two year old who fell and scrapped his knee, then I looked at Timmy and Jane struggling to catch their breath, and then I saw Rodney. He was striding forward, like he had just won the MVP award. The street light shined on him, illuminating him from the dark of night.

Azmorott walked forward and picked up Pierre. The Frenchman only managed a sniffle. Rodney then talked to Timmy and Jane, telling them the danger of the situation and urging them to leave. He then starred off into the woods, almost daring the little fur ball to step out.

After a few anxious moments, Azmorott went and got a flamethrower and headed off toward the woods, Rodney following him. They looked up into the tree tops hoping to catch a glimpse of their enemy.
"Watch out!" cried Rodney, knocking Azmorott out of the way. Seconds later a walnut hit the ground and exploded. I was dumbfounded at how Rodney saw such an obscure object in the dead of night.

We continued walking farther and farther into the woods. An eerie fog began to creep through the surrounding woods. The trees themselves almost seemed to come alive. Yet fearlessly, Rodney pressed onward. Braving the random exploding walnut or flaming acorn. They continued until Rodney heard a branch snap over head.

Stopping, Azmorott pointed his flame thrower into the sky. "Time to fry critter!" he said, then he muttered something in arabic, then a bright blaze of flames shot out into the tree above. Something scurrying through the tree’s top could be heard.

"ARARIBA!" filled the night sky as the squirrel lunched itself from its now burning lair and landed directly on Azmorott’s face. Since its weapon had been destroyed by the force of Rodney’s arm, the squirrel attacked with it teeth. The squirrel mauled away as Azmorott cried out. He pounded at it, but his fists ended up only hitting himself.
Rodney then stepped forward, a fierce glare on his face. Gallantly reaching out, he grabbed the critter by the tail and yanked it toward him, somehow not bringing further harm to Azmorott. As the squirrel tried to position itself to gnaw on Rodney’s arm, our hero moved even quicker and slammed his opposing fist into the squirrel’s sombrero covered head, denting in the top of it’s hat.

With its tail still in hand, Rodney pulled as hard as he could and ripped the bushy tail off. Not just the fur, but all of it! Blood poured out the squirrel’s hind quarters. Whimpering, it struggled to escape, attempting to crawl away. This was not to be, for Rodney brought his foot down on the squirrel crushing its back section like a dinosaur stepping on a pretzel.

I waited for Rodney to finish it off, but he stopped. Rodney turned and started heading out of the woods. Puzzled we all stood there.

"Rodney, aren’t you gonna finish him off?" I asked.

"No, Big L," said Rodney, turning to face me, "I will not give such evil the pleasure of a quick death. Rather, I will leave it there, helpless. The cruelty it bestowed upon others shall be returned unto it." We then followed him off into the night, leaving the squirrel to die a slow and painful death.

Once more Rodney amazed me, saving a little hick town from it’s certain destruction. He defeated a beast with such speed that no other human could match. I sensed this was only the beginning of the great things to come.

Episode 5: The Chimichanga of Time

Introduction to the Introduction:
After Rodney put an end to the horrendous crime spree of the vile villain Hot Sauce, stopping him from burning down all the Taco Bells across the US, One of the head hanchos in the Taco Bell Corporation, business, or whatever it is gave Rodney a grand reward for his heroic deeds. An unlimited free food for the rest of his life. What a reward for such a great hero.

Thus, Rodney, myself, and the dirty hog from France sat down for a delightful meal. The French peon ordered a chimichanga to satisfy his hunger, but what Pierre did not know was that if he bit into this tasty meal it would warp him and everyone at his table into an alternate universe. To a time long ago in a galaxy far far away...

Introduction:
Part One
A Brighter Hope
Total and utter chaos! The galaxy lay in ruins and the evil sith, led by the sinister villain Ganadork and his just as bad counterpart Darth Bradyius.
These two really bad guys have hunted down and killed off all the jedi. It would take a hero of epic and great proportions to stop this evil duo from spelling doom for the entire galaxy....

*************

Where in the blazes were we? One minute we were sitting in a nice booth at Taco Bell, I was enjoying a nice chicken quesidilla and an order of cinnamon twists, when the stupid and yellow peon bit into his stinking burrito thing and transported us into....who knows where.

I turned around to find to guys dressed in black and one with red and strange markings on his face. At first glance, I could not help but notice the strange resemblance he shared with that of a character from an old video game, but that was probably just my imagination.

Since these bozos were wearing black, I decided to ask the obvious question.
"Who died?"

"No one, yet," said the funny looking guy, with the goofy markings on his head, "We want the chimichanga of time your friend is holding."

"And who are you, chubby that we should give it to you?" I asked.

"I am Lord Ganadork, the mighty Sith Lord," said the goofy guy, "and this is my apprentice Darth Bradyius." He pointed to the guy wearing a black robe. It was funny because this Darth Bradyius guy reminded me of the New England Patriots Quarterback Tom Brady. "Please watch your tongue or we will be forced to take it out."

"Forced to take it, huh? Well if you think your big enough then...." I decided not to finish my statement, largely due to the fact that Darth Bradyius pulled out his red lightsaber.

"Give you my dinner?" angrily shouted Pierre, "that is preposterous! You can go jump in a lake, you will not get my dinner..." before the loud-mouth could finish his idiotic comment, he was met with a blast of lighting shooting out of Ganadork’s hand. The force of the lighting sent Pierre flying into the wall, he dropped the chimichanga and lay motionless. It was the funniest thing I ever saw.

"Do it....hahaha...do it ag..hahaha...again..." I said laughing hysterically. Ganadork actually listened to me and did it again. I was laughing so hard it hurt. I practically wet my pants it was so funny. "Now," getting a hold of myself, "what is so special about this chimichanga?"

"It can teleport people between different dimensions. And when we Sith have control of it, no one in the galaxies will be able to stop us, buwhahahaha!" evilly laughed Ganadork.

"Wow chubby cheeks, did you figure that one out all by yourself? Or did your fruitcake friend help you?" I asked. Suddenly Ganadork became dead serious (and dead ugly too, if you ask my opinon).

"Don’t make me kill you," said Ganadork.

"Why not, you are already dressed for the funeral," I replied, "Awww, isn’t that cute they are wearing matching black outfits. You know, you too make such an ugly couple." Darth Bradyius stepped forward as if he were big enough to do something, but that is when the Great, the Colossus, the King of the Touchdown Pass, Defender of Good, Panther of Power, and the football mastermind himself stepped in. RODNEY PEETE!

"Get behind me, Big L," said Rodney. I was amazed at how unafraid Rodney was, for he was in an alternate dimension in the middle of some whacked out planet, fighting two Sith Lords, wearing their mothers’ black bath robes. "Back off my friend," defiantly spoke Rodney to Darth Bradyius.

"You back off, your mere average human attributes are no much for the power of the dark side," said Ganadork. If only this moron knew who he was dealing with. Rodney could whip him hog tied.

Ganadork fired his force lightning toward our hero, but faster than a snow hare scampering across an arctic plain, Rodney pulled out a football from his back left pocket using his right hand. The football absorbed the energy of the lightning and trapped it inside its radiant pigskin. As Ganadork was confused, Rodney used his free hand to reach into his other back pocket. Then left handed, he threw a perfect spiraling bullet traveling at the speed of sound right into Ganadork’s face. The force from the blow knocked Ganadork backwards thirty feet, flipping him over backwards.

Rodney quickly took Ganadork’s lightsaber and prepared to duel Darth Bradyius. Darth Bradyius’s red lightsaber shook as fear gripped his entire body, for justly scared after watching Rodney dispose of his evil master. Rodney however had a look of fire in his eyes, one I only had seen in the Superbowl (which is another story, for another time).
Nevertheless, the two engaged in a duel that was sure to be a win for Rodney. 

After standing still for a couple seconds, each man tried to find a weakness in the other. This was very unsuccessful for Bradyius because Rodney had none. Rodney made the first move, swinging his lightsaber at Bradyius’s mid-section. Barely moving his own saber in time, Bradyius blocked Rodney’s blow. Quickly Rodney brought his blade back out and then he juked Darth Bradyius so bad that the poor Sith almost fell down. Seizing the moment Rodney swung his saber and sliced off Bradyius’s ugly head. The lifeless body dropped to the floor and bodiless head rolled across the floor, with a look of shock and awe forever imprinted on its face.

Since I was a collector of many souvenirs, and had taken something from every adventure, I picked up Bradyius’s head and put it in my bag. When we spent our time in the Mountains of Greenland, I read a book on shrinking heads and developed quite a collection.

Meanwhile, as Rodney and his now deceased apprentice dueled, Lord Ganadork had woken from his up close and personal encounter with death and had stolen the chimichanga of time, and much to my delight, Pierre. If only the poor moron would have known what he had gotten himself into.

Rodney sprinted off after them in hopes of catching the evil Sith Lord, but it was off no use. He was long gone and the power of the Chimichanga of Time was in his hands. In despair, Rodney dropped to his knees.

"I have failed," said Rodney, "I have allowed a great weapon to fall into the hands of the enemy." The words "I failed" coming from the great Rodney ripped my beating and pumping heart right out of my chest. I could not stand to think the thought, as tears began to fill in my eyes.

"Failed you have not," said a strange voice from out of no where. I looked around and spotted a floating blue ghost that looked like Master Yoda from the Star Wars films. 
"Rodney, failed you have not. Hope there still is."

"If there is any glimmer of hope, I will cling to it, Master Yoda," said Rodney. I was bewildered at how Rodney knew that was Master Yoda, yet I was also touched by the fact that Rodney would hold onto the smallest ray of hope.

"Good, learn the ways of the Force you must," said Yoda, "combined with your knowledge of the Football, save the galaxies from the oppression of the Sith you can."

"What must I do to accomplish this task, Master?" asked Rodney.
"Go to Zooboomafu you must, there seek out Master Jos Anu, instruct you in the ways of the Force, he will." Finishing this, Master Yoda’s blue ghost disappeared and we set off to find a star pilot to take us to Zooboomafu.

After walking for what seemed days, we reached a local bar or social lounge, whatever they called it. When talking to some of the local, Rodney learned we were on the planet Wheretheheckarewe. The Wheretheheckareweians looked like walking and talking Mr. Potatoehead toys. It was quite comical. Part of me was tempted to go and try to rearrange some of there faces, but I overcame this when Rodney advised against it.

As we walked around the room, all the Wheretheheckareweians followed us with their eyes, which was understandable because we were dressed like no one had ever seen before. Me wearing a blue Panthers hoody, blue jeans, and a pair of Brahma boots, and Rodney wearing a leatherjacket, khakis, and some brown shoes, along with a brown fedora.

Rodney quickly found a local pilot that was willing to help us.

"Name is Small Fry," said the Potato, "I’m captain of the Screaming Chicken. Fastest ship in the galaxy."

"The name is Peete, Rodney Peete," said the Defender of Good, "My buddy and I need a ride to Zooboomafu to attend some important matters."

"Wow that is a long ways off, it will cost you extra," said Small Fry.
"We don’t have any money," said Rodney, "If you give us a ride I will find some way to repay you."

"You should let them go," said another human walking up and joining us, "No don’t let them go, they have no money."

"Oh don’t mind him, this is my partner Kerrie Jon. He is suffering from...well he just has problems," said Small Fry. I could not get over the fact that Kerrie Jon looked like a certain Senator that once ran for President on the democratic ticket against George W. Bush. Oh well, I was probably just imagining it. "I tell you what, I normally wouldn’t do this, but today I am feeling generous, if you let us tag along on your adventure, we will take you. Its not to often that Kerrie and I get a chance to do this sort of thing. Meet us at docking bay 4462 in about fifteen minutes, got that?"

"4462, right, I got that," said Rodney.

With a ride to Zooboomafu and in search of the long lost Jedi Master Jos Anu, Rodney set out to save the Galaxy from its certain destruction. Only a soul as brave and courageous as Rodney would have a hope of succeeding.
To be continued............

Episode 4: Silence of the Yams

Special Comment from the Narrator:

To all of those who have followed Rodney’s great and heroic adventures and have been overjoyed as each tale told of how Rodney triumphed over evil, this next episode is a special one. This tale happened around the time of Thanksgiving, a true American holiday. Thus, it should be fitting that the Great American hero have an epic venture on the day of an American tradition.

As Americans, we have much that we should praise God the Creator of the Universe for because he has blessed us with a great deal many things. I am thankful that I was born an American, in the good old Red, White, and Blue United States; and not in France were riot and foreign occupation is almost a given. Also, I am forever grateful for God allowing me to tag along with such an amazing guy as Rodney. Without him, the forces of evil would be allowed to frolic across the world.

So from me to you, I would like to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and a wonderful Holiday Season. And remember as your mom burns the turkey and/or the rolls, and as dad attempts to carve that delightful bird to be thankful for the grace which God has shown you. Most importantly, be thankful to be an American.

Sincerely,

Big L
*************

Introduction:

A diabolical scoundrel has been plaguing the country by doing one of the most savage things possible. Something so crippling, that most Americans are crushed forever. Well, he is not doing anything bad to McDonald’s or Wal-mart, but close. This crazy monster has burned down thousands of Taco Bells everywhere! Oh such horror!

In the ashes and ruins of these marvelous dining facilities, our villain uses multiple packs of fire sauce and writes ‘Hot Sauce’. Thus the FBI and other federal law enforcement agencies have given this bozo the nickname of Hot Sauce.

Who can stop this madmen before he reduces all the Taco Bells to a pile of smoldering rubble? Does any man possess the necessary skills to conquer this clown? The world’s only hope lies in one, the Pouncing Panther, the Defender of Good,....Rodney Peete.

*************

It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. Actually, it was just the worst of times. Some psychopathic fruit loop was burning down all the Taco Bells across the state of Indiana.

I could take on a lot of hardship and other bad things of the sort, but the burning down of Taco Bell. If this madman, now know as Hot Sauce, kept it up, where would any of us Americans go to get South of the Border food? It was too far for must to make a midnight run to satisfy their craving for a chicken quesidilla and three soft tacos covered in fire sauce.

Hot Sauce had managed to evade the state police, the FBI, CIA, and even Homeland security, so in their desperation to catch this madman (actually I believe it was so they could get back to eating at Taco Bell and not doing anything else) they called on Rodney Peete. I think they should have done this to begin with, but that is just me. 
What do I know, I am just born in this country to live and die a free man.
Rodney, of course, took on the task with much optimism and enthusiasm in the beginning. But soon this criminal mastermind even managed to escape the clutches of our fine hero, yes even Rodney was being outwitted by this bozo.

So confused Rodney did something that would forever cement his brave and yet humble character into my heart, he sought the aid of someone else. I thought that Rodney was the smartest and strongest dude in America and needed the help of no other, but I was wrong. It seems even the greatest of heros need a little help every once in a while.

But to further throw me off, Rodney did not seek the help of any normal criminal psychologist or criminal mind expert. He instead went to an actual criminal who was a psychologist. Strange, yet courageous at the same time. Only someone with superior knowledge such as Rodney would dare consult an actual criminal, such genius!

Rodney did not consult any normal criminal either, but the worst and most scary villain of them all, Felipe Poof. Felipe Poof was the worst criminal fruitcake to walk across the street of downtown USA. This diabolical tater would trick his patients, who were usually behind on their payments, to coming to his home where he would take them to the backyard and light them up. I am not talking like a Christmas tree (notice I said Christmas tree, not Holiday tree, those phony baloney politicians in Washington seem to forget that, morons) or by hitting them repeatedly, I am talking about setting them on fire. Blowing them up! Poofing them! (Hints his name Felipe Poof)

So there we were, in the middle of an insane asylum. A guy wearing a brown suit and holding the briefcase was about to unlock the gate doors to allow us to walk down the corridor of cells, with nut cases on every side.

"He cannot enter," said the man, "many of our inmates dislike the French, they may try to harm him." Pierre thought on that a moment, and in typical French fashion decided it was best to not go into harms way. I started to follow Rodney, but the man then stopped me also. "I am sorry sir, we don’t allow trailer park trash like you to come in, it generally arouses..."

I had heard enough of that moron, so I reached back swung, giving the guy a noodle buster and knocking him to the ground. The man wiped some blood of his chin, but I got my point across, so he allowed me to follow Rodney down the long corridor of loneys.

We walked passed a guy who thought he was a chimp, another dude who was claiming to be batman, and at last came to the cell of Felipe Poof. The man was freakishly pale and had black hair that was all combed backward.

"Hello, Rodney," said Felipe.

"Mr. Poof," said Rodney, "I haven’t got a lot of time and I humbly seek your help in catching the criminal Hot Sauce." Rodney handed Mr. Poof the files through the bars of his cage. Mr. Poof looked them over and then set them on his bed and then he looked back up at Rodney.

"Rodney, I will help you," said Poof, "but only as a trade off, I give you some information, you give me some about yourself. Deal?"

This was unbelievable, this lowlife scum was wanting details into the life of Rodney Peete. Would Rodney do this? Not even I had gotten a glimpse into the mind of this colossal beast of a man.

"Deal." I was shocked. Only Rodney would be bold enough to allow this whacko to get inside his great heroic and football mind.

"Alright Rodney, describe me your childhood?" asked Poof.

"Not much to tell really, my childhood was a lot like any boy," said Rodney, showing his humbleness. For as legend had it, Rodney was throwing a football a hundred yards by the age of four. His first words were play action pass. Rodney was no normal child, he was a child prodigy.

Poof looked at Rodney and then began to shake his had and make an annoying tsk tsk sound. I was about to tell him tsk this, but he spoke before I could.

"Rodney, don’t waste my time beating around the bush," said Poof. I was appalled at Felipe’s criticizing and badgering of Rodney. No one could do that and get away with it. I lounged toward the cage to give this bimbo the thrashing of his life, but Rodney stopped.

"Big L, you really need to learn to control your emotions," said Poof, "they could get you into a lot of trouble with people that you ought not be messing with."

I really tried to bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut, but the temptation of insulting and belittling this pyro was too great. Soon the desire became a burning in my bones, I had to let it out.

"Shut up you John Kerry lovin’ Heinz ketchup eating turd," I said, "you best keep your mouth shut before I rearrange your face. By the way, your ugly!" I felt better.

"Enough Big L," said Rodney, "Mr. Poof is right, we made a deal to be honest, and I wasn’t completely. I am sorry Mr. Poof."

"Please continue," said Poof, eyeing me as if he was tough enough to do something. If he tried I would knock his boogers out through his rear.

"Well, I had this dream when I was about five," said Rodney.

"Tell me about this dream."

"It was about...Thanksgiving, all my family would come and gather over so I was very excited about spending quality time with them. As we sat down to eat, I got ready to scoop out some sweet potatoes," Rodney paused as a grave look came over his face, "suddenly out of the darkness of night a black panther leaped through the kitchen window and came right toward the sweet potatoes. I remember the sweet potatoes screaming out in horror as this beast and dangerous predator threatened their existence. So in a mad attempt to save them, I jumped up to challenge the beast...but...I..."

"You what, Rodney? Were you afraid?" asked Poof.

"No it wasn’t that I was afraid," Rodney paused again, "I was too slow...the panther had gobbled up the yams before I could do anything. All the while the sweet potatoes were screaming out in terror as they were being devoured by the foul creature. Their cries and pleas for help still haunt my very soul..."

"That is why you seek to do all these good things," said Poof, "that is why you hunt down the evil terrors that plague this earth. You still hear the yams. You are trying to silence the yams, aren’t you Rodney? You think by defeating all the villains in the world, it will stop the shrill voices that haunt you in your deepest soul."

"Yes," answered Rodney. My thoughts came to an absolute stand still, for Rodney had something haunting him. Rodney had been out done by a creature in his dreams, he cared for little sweet taters that everyone hungrily stuffed themselves with on Thanksgiving. The thought was too much for me, I began to weep. Weep like a guy who goes to ESPN.com and sees that his pro football team is last in the power rankings.

"Thank you Rodney," said Poof, "the name of this man you are after is...Fred...Yogermizter. He is very a large and fat man that weighs 500 pounds. The reason for burning down these Taco Bell’s is because he is ashamed of his rotund size, and he believes Taco Bell to be the cause of it. If you hurry I bet you can catch him before he strikes again, for Mr. Yogermizter is getting more and more bold."

"Well, that makes us even, Mr. Poof," said Rodney.

"Anything for the greatest Quarterback of all-time," said Mr. Poof, "Will you sign my football card? Its from your rookie season."

"I would be honored," said Rodney. The greatness of Rodney was defined yet again in that moment, as he signed Poof’s football card. Only Rodney would be willing to sign a card for such a lowlife as this pond scum.

Rodney gathered his things and started to head back down the corridor, in a hurry to catch this Yogermizter. A crazy fruit such as he needed to be put away quickly before he caused anymore damage to society. Oh the trauma, oh Taco Bell what would I do with out thee?

Before Rodney left, Poof stopped him.

"Yes," said Rodney.

"You will let me know when those yams have been silenced?" asked Poof.

"I will."

With that Rodney exited the rows of cells and entered back into a normal society. He got Pierre away from the guards, apparently they were drinking some....well let’s just say it wasn’t water or grape juice. When we showed up Pierre was standing on the desk starting to sing the French national anthem. How he knew which to sing, I had no idea cause it changed so often.

We soon arrived outside a Taco Bell in a town well away from the mental asylum, how Rodney knew this was beside me. All I can say, it was because he was Rodney.

As I saw the Taco Bell, I spotted an extremely overweight fat man. In the fatty’s hand was a gas can and a match, he was preparing to do the unthinkable.

"Do it! Burn it do! It is poisoning Americans and making them fatter!" shouted Pierre. I didn’t even think of an insult for that, I just balled my fist up and let it fly. My flying fist crashed in loudmouth’s cranium and knocked him senseless, though I think he had none to begin with.

I quickly turned to see what Rodney would do to stop this madman. Surprisingly, Rodney did not reach into his back pockets for the balls of fury. Instead he walked up to Hot Sauce.

Extremely amused, I watched Yogermizter run his mouth to the great Rodney. Then I laughed hysterically as Rodney kicked the man in his mountainous gut and gave him a Stone Cold Stunner. Next Rodney set the guy up for the powerbomb. I was even more mind boggled by the strength of Rodney as he lifted the whale of a man of the ground and powerbombed him with enough force to kill Pierre a thousand times over.

Within minutes the police showed up and tried to stuff the man into a body bag. Unfortunately the man would not fit, so they just threw a sheet over his hideous face.

As I stood there in a wonder of Rodney Peete’s beastly and heroic greatness, my cell phone rang. Yes, I did have a cell phone, every good American thinks they must have to exist in the world. So doing the usually thing people do, I answered it.

"Hello, Big L," said a freakishly scary and masculine voice. Immediately I recognized the voice as Mr. Poof.

"Yo whaz up?" I said.

"I am about to watch a dazzling light display, if you look off to the east you may catch a glimpse of it." Sure enough, as soon as he mentioned it, a loud and thunderous boom sounded off in the east, followed by a bright explosion. Meaning, Poof had escaped and he was back on the streets. This spelled utter doom.

"I am coming for you," Poof said.

"I will be waiting for you, ugly. When you show up I am going to give you such a beating that you will want to blow your own nutcase self up, poopstick!" I exclaimed. Poof hung up with out saying anything. Now I was mad. "Don’t hang up on me, half-wit!" I screamed into the phone.

"Come Big L, we have no time to worry about Poof," Rodney said, "other adventures a wait us."

So with the evil Taco Bell burning screwball pushing up daisies, we set off for a next adventure. I anticipated that our next journey would lead to yet another mammoth sized acts of bravery and stunning brilliance by Rodney. No matter what, once again Rodney would be victorious.

Episode 3: The Hairless Wig of Forever Wisdom

Introduction:
A very long time ago, just as the Americas were being conquered and colonized by the Europeans, there was a Spanish conqueror, named Cuco the Brave, that set out to defeat a group of Indians that lived near what we call the Grand Canyon.

This group of Indians were a fierce, cannibalistic tribe that terrorized the others around them. The Aztecs and other groups in the area referred to them as the Poo-wee because they stunk of all the dead bodies that surrounded their savage village.

When Cuco from the new world came, the peaceful Indian tribes in the area flocked to him in hopes that he could rid their world of these filthy peoples that caused much war and displeasure across the land.

Cuco started off well, with he and his men slaying hundreds of the Poo-wee and sending them running into the hills. One by one their villages fell to this noble hero. Finally he neared the Poo-wee capital city of Quanca. That is when this great and mighty hero was corrupted.

A little villager came to him and offered him a deal that he could not refuse. If the conqueror would spare the Poo-wee and let them live and help defeat their enemies, he would grant Cuco all the land that he saw as his own. To seal the deal the villager promised to give Cuco a wig with no hair, saying that it would bring him much wisdom and make him wiser than anyone in the land. Cuco took it.

He slew all the surrounding tribes, and expanded much of the Poo-wee territory. The hairless wig that he wore on his head allowed him to see the battles clearer than most human beings. Divide, smash, burn, destroy, stomp, smother, murder, and conquer Cuco did until he could do no more. The whole state that we now know as Arizona was conquered by Cuco, now called the Hairless.

Victorious, he returned to the chief of the Poo-wee demanding that he be given his land. The chief only laughed in his face. Furious, Cuco demanded his share again. Again the chief laughed at him.

This where the story ends. Why, because no one knows what happened after that other than that Cuco the Hairless and his men left the chief’s court and were never heard from again. Even more startling, the whole tribe of the Poo-wee vanished completely from history. No trace of their villages were ever found. No remains, no pottery, no nothing. It is a mystery that is waiting to be solved by some brave and courageaous soul.
*************
Finally, are travels had brought us back to the good old United States of America. Home of the free and the brave. A land of liberty, equality, and justice for all. But unfortunately, Pierre managed to make it past customs. The little grape-masher did not even have a real American passport. It is one he had gotten of the black market in Singapore.

To add to my discomfort, our flight landed in Indianapolis, Indiana where Rodney defeated another unlikey foe. Perhaps his toughest yet, but that is another story for another time. On that adventure we met up with a guy by the name of Azmorott, who was a rather nut case. But because Rodney Peete helped him, Azmorott promised to help him on this next grand quest.

Azmorott, to fulfill his oath to Rodney, was going to be drive us to the Grand Canyon in his taxi. Rodney was in search of a great artifact of the ancient world, an item he called the hairless wig of forever wisdom. He said that the person who yielded this great article would gain a knowledge so vast it would make them the wisest person throughout the land.

I was astounded that one such as Rodney would need something as this, for I already had thought of him as the smartest human being on the planet. But Rodney soon explained to me that he was not getting it for his personal use, rather to keep it out of the hands of evil. If evil were to possess such a thing, the forces of mankind would be much pressed to overcome it.

We had traveled several hundred miles by car and were nearing our destination, when Azmorott pulled off into a rest stop to refresh and empty our bladders. Rodney headed off into a building to get information about the area. As the rest of us stepped out of the crammed vehicle, I watched Azmorott walk around the back and open up the trunk of his car. I, being the curious dude that I am, went to see what was in there. However, once I saw what was in there, I wished I hadn’t.

Peering into his trunk I saw six shotguns, five hand grenades, four sticks of dynamite, three backpacks filled with C4 explosives, two sniper rifles, and one rocket launcher with an extra rocket. I turned to the nut case to give him an earful.

"Who in their right mind let you out of the looney bin?" I asked him, "You don’t just go driving down the road with explosives in the back of your car. If we had an accident you could kill not only us, but everyone in the entire area."

Azmorott grinned at me and then patted me on the shoulder. "You have to die of something. Might as well make it entertaining." Pierre, shaking his head, walked over and picked the gun up.

"We do not use such things in my great country," said Pierre.

"History shows us that," I replied.

Suddenly, a man wearing a Buddhist’s robe appeared out of a near by trash can, quickly drawing an oozy. Several others began sprouting out from other trash cans, others from under piles of leaves, and others dropped out of the trees. Immediately I knew they were the Radbudd, yet one question remained. Who was there leader?

My question was soon answered, as a figured dressed in a black robe and got out of a black mini van parked next to us. A foot imprint was pressed on his forehead and a dark scar covered his face. Immediately, I knew it was that no good Ron Chi.

"We meet again, cracker" said Ron Chi, "for the last time."

"You know what, things haven’t changed since the last time we met, fart face," I said, "You still suck, fatty!" That statements effect had the same one as last time, except this time Ron Chi made the mistake of pointing his gun at Azmorott. Azmorott had a very short fuse box and one did not simply point things in his face. He might knock your teeth out.

"I don’t know who you think you are, chubby cheeks, but you best get that thing out of my face before I rip out your eyes and use them for golf balls," shouted Azmorott, pushing the gun away. I was amazed at Azmorott’s courageous stupidity, not many people in their right mind would trash talk to a mad man with a gun.

"What are you going to do about it, infidel?" asked Ron chi. I would have just kept exchanging verbal blows with this nut case, but Azmorott had had enough. He swung his fist at Ron Chi. Amazingly, Ron chi dodged the incoming haymaker and followed with a swift kick into Azmorott’s ribs, knocking him to the ground.

With Azmorott down and in extreme pain, I knew Pierre and I were doomed. There was no hope of escaping the doom that was coming toward us in the form of the Radbudd. Not knowing what evil and tortuous things they would do to us, I began to lose all hope of escape. Looking back on the situation now I realized my grave error. I had forgotten about the hero of heroes, the Captain of Courage, the greatest of the greats, the one the only Rodney Peete.

Just as it appeared all hope had faded away, two Radbudd suddenly came crashing through the glass doors of the information center. Through the debris emerged, Rodney, the Defender of good.

He reached into his pockets for his football, preparing for the balls of fury. Realizing that they were in some serious trouble, Ron Chi hurried all of the Radbudd into two eighteen wheelers. But as they hurried to avoid their certain defeat, one of the Radbudd grabbed Pierre and carried him off with them. They posted armed guards on top of their big rigs as, thinking that would deter Rodney from coming after them. The fact they had Pierre would have caused me to leave them well enough alone, but Rodney wanted to rescue Pierre again.

"Yo Rodney," said Azmorott, "I have a rocket launcher in the trunk, I could just blow that truck to kingdom come. No more problems."

"No, Azmorott, killing is never the answer. It only brings about pain." said Rodney.
Quickly, we dashed into the car. Azmorott put the pedal to the medal, and we raced toward the big rigs. The first rig was absolutely thrilled to see us, so much in fact they greeted us with several rounds of ammunition. The rigorous hail of murderous bullets and the high speeds at which we were traveling did not phase Rodney, instead he climbed out the passenger window and on top of the speeding vehicle. From this point, I did not have a clear angle on Rodney himself but I could see the effects of him.

Miraculously, Rodney began throwing the balls of fury into the oncoming wind. If even more amazing than that the pigskins were defying the law of physics, gravity, and any other scientific law (other than chaos), striking the perched guards with a deadly percussion. One by one they were struck and fell off the trucks and onto the pavement, being crushed by the oncoming traffic.

I then saw another football launch, but this one had a cord streaming out the back. It struck the top of the truck and latched itself to the top. Seconds later I saw Rodney take a leap and faith and float through the air ,like no other human being could ever do, and crashed through the back doors of the trailer.

I was mesmerized as Rodney dodged the hail of bullets that was continually being sprayed at him. Suddenly one of the Radbudd charged at Rodney, but the foolish man went sailing off the back and crashing into our windshield as Rodney sidestepped out his way.

Azmorott began swerving all over the road from not being able to see because of the guy lying on his windshield in a splatter of his own blood. Flipping the windshield wiper switch, Azmorott attempted to remove the now decaying corpse from his vision, but this was of no use.

Suddenly we felt a large jolt as something hit our vehicle, but I soon realized that it was Rodney coming to clean off the window and rejoining us. I was boggled at how he performed such a daring and dangerous task without even hesitating, oblivious to the perils that could very well claim his life.

"He wasn’t in there," said Rodney, with the words flowing gracefully off his lips.

"Darn," said Azmorott, "I say we turn those buddy Buddha lovers into one giant crater."

"How would you do that?" I asked. With an evil grin on his face, Azmorott punched a button on his dash board. As soon as he pressed the button, the front fenders of the opened up and revealed two cruise missile launchers.

"Put those away, Azmorott," sternly, but calmly said Rodney. It was astonishing to me that Rodney could set a crazed lunatic like Azmorott back in his place without even raising his voice. Disappointed, Azmorott pushed the same button and put his toys away.

We raced on toward the second truck. As we approached, a guard on the top of the rig jumped off and landed perfectly on our hood. He raised his gun to fire, and bullets bounced off and through our windshield. I dove behind the passenger seat, Azmorott swerved back and forth all over the road trying to get the dip wad off his car, and Rodney heroically climbed out the window to square of with the beancake. I peeped my head around the seat to watch Rodney kick the ever loving fiddlesticks out of this merry-andrew.

Rodney wasted no time, he reached and stole the gun right out of the dude’s hands, throwing it off the side. Next Rodney laid the rock bottom on that sorry biscuit, and popped a squat on his chest. Right, left, right, left the punches went as Rodney beat the guy senseless.

Meanwhile two other guards on top the trailer appeared and greeted Rodney with a hail of lead. Rodney reached into his back pocket and unleashed the balls of fury. The bullets stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the raging pigskins. The first guard caught several blows into his gut causing him to spit up his kidneys. The second guard pooped his pants at the sight of the incoming projectiles and was soon knocked faceless as his kisser was crushed by the perfectly spiraling football.

Rodney threw the other guy off into the road, just as the trailer doors opened. A snot load of Radbudd leaped out at Rodney. Half didn’t jump far enough and became speed bumps, another half leapt too far and collided with traffic in the other lanes, and the last half crashed into our hero, sending him crashing through the windshield.

Looking out the window I realized that we had reached the Grand Canyon, unfortunately I didn’t have the time to enjoy the breath taking site, for I realized our cab was headed toward a guard rail.

Amazingly, our hero must have realized this too for he frantically began tossing the Radbudd off of him. Meanwhile Azmorott tried to stop the vehicle, managing to slow it down, but it was of no use the vehicle was too close to begin slowing down. It would soon hit the guard rail spelling our certain doom.

"We are going to have to jump for it," said Azmorortt.

"Yes, its are only chance of surviving," said Rodney, throwing the last Radbudd off of him. He then tried to get up, only to realize that his leather jacket was caught between the hood and the windshield.

"Ok, now!" shouted Azmorott.

"Wait," I cried in sheer terror, "We can’t leave Rodney!"

"Don’t worry about me Big L," said Rodney, nobly and yet sadly, "Go!"

Azmorott and I dove out the doors. We hit the ground rolling, minus a few scrapes and bruises, surprisingly uninjured. However, that was not our concern. Our attention quickly turned back to the taxi heading toward the guard rail.

We watched in disbelief as Rodney tried to free himself. Seconds later our hearts were crushed as the vehicle slammed through the guard rail and sailed off into the clear blue yonder.

I jumped to my feet and sprinted to the canyon’s edge closely followed by Azmorott. Looking down into the canyon far below we made out a speck free falling toward the floor. Moments later a massive fireball rose up from the canyon.

Azmorott and I began to weep uncontrollably. As snot and tears ran down our faces, we dropped to the ground in agony. For the hero of our hearts, King of the touchdown pass, Master of the Grid Iron, and mostly importantly our quarterback had perished. What good could possibly be in the world now? Who would stand to bring down the evil dominions that would stand to oppose all who stand for justice? The last great American hero was no more.

Suddenly we heard the sound of crumbling rocks. I glanced over to see out of the corner of my right eye, a pinky finger. Soon a tattered fedora appeared, and to my delight Rodney pulled himself up.

Beaten, bloody, and scarred from the fall and intense fighting, Rodney stood to his feet. Azmorott and I stood there in complete amazement. How could he have done it? How could he defy death? I realized I should not be asking myself these questions and just accept it. For with Rodney, you had to expect the unexpected, dream the unthinkable, and believe that the impossible was going to be accomplished.

"Let’s go get Pierre and the Hairless wig before the Radbudd get their corrupted hands on such a relic," said Rodney, as if nothing even happened. He strode off into the sunset, determined to obtain his prize.

The journey to the canyon floor was long, hard, and hot. The hot Arizona sun beat down upon us and a dry humid breeze added to the misery as we rode down on the backs of mules. Despite the long, boring adventure to the bottom, we made it alive, a little thirsty though.

We walked on for a little while longer, until we came to another cave entrance. Remembering our last encounter with a cave, I figured Rodney would be hesitant to enter, I sure was a bit weary. Rodney, however, appeared unconcerned as he started to walk into the cave. Suddenly a shot echoed through the canyon, soon followed by more. Azmorott let out an agonizing scream and fell to the ground.
Rodney ran to Azmorott, who laid on the ground unmoving, not caring about the continuing fire of the snipers.

"Azmorott, say something," cried Rodney. It again moved my heart to see Rodney distressed over his fallen comrade.

Azmorott moved his lips, as if to speak but no sound came out. His chest began to beat heavily and then it was his end. I could feel his last breath coming, as did Rodney. Tears began to pour down Rodney’s cheeks as Azmorott passed on out of this world into a realm not known to any man. Rodney laid his head on Azmorott and went completely silenced. My own heart was very deeply grieved for the loss of our friend.

Suddenly Rodney got up, with a look of anger upon his face. He reached into his back pockets and whipped out three shotguns. Rodney pitched one to me.
Stunned that Rodney was actually using firearms, I glanced at the weapon I held within my grasp. It was a doubled barrel shotgun with the letters RP engraved on the wooden handle. The grip on the handle appeared wooden, but it had the texture of a football.
Rodney spotted two snipers upon the mountainside. He quickly raised the guns, one in each hand, and fired, hitting both of them. Flipping the gun, he re-pumped the guns, flipping them back to a firing position.

Hotheadedly, Rodney stormed into the cave as I cautiously followed behind. Inside the cave we saw the Colorado river following in the underground cavern. Lying next to the water’s edge were hundreds of bones and pieces of human remains. Several banners of Spanish conquistors, different Native weapons, and some other dead and spooky stuff covered the ground.

But what soon caught my attention was Ron Chi and his evilly wicked minions were standing around a small pedestal. On the pedestal sat a quite peculiar object, it looked like a swimmers cap yet it was the color of human skin. Then I knew what it was, the HAIRLESS WIG of FOREVER WISDOM!!! Those Buddhists of mayhem had put their filthy hands upon it, for if they unleashed its power it would spell our certain doom.

"You are too late, Rodney Peete, hahahhaha!!!" frighteningly laughed Ron Chi.

"Drop dead, fruitcake!" I shouted, "it is never too late for Rodney. He is going rip out your intestines and strangle the air out of your lungs!"

"Go ahead, make my day, fatty" said Ron Chi, "it is not I you have to worry about, ignorant little American. Pierre is the one who will lead my people to victory. Buwhaha!" I about collapsed with laughter. This bimbo actually thought Pierre could lead someone to victory, when in reality the only place he could lead them was into occupation and captivity by a foreign nation. Nonetheless, Ron Chi picked up the hairless wig and prepared to place it on Pierre’s head.

"Don’t" said a heroic voice. The intensity with which that one word was said brought a silence upon everyone. It sent chills down my spine. "Ron Chi, you will not unleash a terrible fate upon us all, but the entire world." Ron Chi ignored Rodney’s noble warning, and with another annoying evil laugh he placed the hairless wig on Pierre’s head.

At once, the terrible fate begin to take place. A violent earthquake shook the entire cave, knocking us to the ground and dropping piles of rock upon some of the unsuspecting Radbudd. The water in the river began to bubble and suddenly a large beast arose from it. To our horror we realized it was a giant naked beaver that stood as tall as the cavern (which was about 20 feet), it had a massive tail that could unleash a great fury upon its unfortunate victims.

Pierre quickly pulled the hairless wig off and ran for it, faster than I have seen any Frenchman run in my life. Ron Chi quickly tried to follow in his footsteps, but the beaver smacked him with his tail, wailing him across the cavern into the wall.
I turned to see what great move Rodney would pull off, how he would conquer this enormous hairless rodent.

The beaver approached him, letting an awful cry as it neared. Rodney stood there with the shotguns in hand, ready to slay this foul foe. Rodney raised the guns to fire, but the beaver swing its massive tail and knocked them away. It then swung back around and knocked Rodney’s legs out from under him. Hitting the ground hard, Rodney lay motionless.

Lowering its massive clawed paws, the beaver lifted Rodney and proceeded to devour him. Once in the creature’s grasp, Rodney balled his hands into a fist and slammed into the side of the beaver’s head, causing its entire body to go off balance. However, the beast quickly regained itself.

Struggling to free himself, Rodney pulled out twenty bottles of Mountain Dew from his shirt pocket. He tossed them into the beaver’s throat. Letting out a horrific roar, the creature dropped Rodney, and began choking on the liquid within its system.
Reaching within his back pockets, Rodney went for the balls of fury, having an accuracy and precision only he is capable of. They bounced of the beaver’s exposed skin. The constant volley proved too much for the beaver and it soon fell to the ground.

As soon as it hit the canvas, strange impulses began to be seen moving throughout the beaver’s body. Then before our very eyes it transformed into a knight dressed in shining armor. He moved toward Rodney with a look of disbelief upon his face.

"How could you defeat me, the great Cuco the Hairless? I even had the hairless wig," said Cuco, the knight which had appeared from the beaver. Being the humble guy he is, Rodney said nothing. But I knew why it was possible, it was simply because he was Rodney Peete.

"I guess now the Hairless Wig should belong to you," said Cuco.

"No, I think something of such evil should be destroyed," said Rodney, "As valuable as such an artifact is, the evil which could be used through it would only cause more trouble in this fallen world. It must destroyed." Cuco looked at Rodney, and then simply walked over and picked the hairless wig up.

"So be it," said Cuco. Then he and the wig spontaneously vanished from sight, as I stood there in complete wonder.

"Rats," I said as I saw Pierre approaching us, "you survived. I was hoping the Radbudd would take you with them. I a mean they ran as about as fast as you did when they saw that beaver. I thought you had found your kind at last."

"No way, I will never travel with such scum again," said Pierre, "I was hungry and they tried to feed me a double cheeseburger. They were becoming Americanized."

"Yep," I said, "the French could only hope to advance as far." With that being said our journey came to end.

Rodney had once again saved Pierre from his certain and most likely of doom, costing us the life of a dear friend. But the Hairless wig and all of the evil which it obtained had been destroyed, thus the day had been saved by Rodney. The world could now once more return to normal as to before the days of the Hairless Wigs creation.
I only hoped that our next adventure would be as entertaining. What would Rodney do to save mankind from its destruction? What good deed would he do for the world? One could only wait, for when it happened Rodney’s greatness would only be proved once again.

Episode 2: The Flight of the Supernatural Offshore Chelonian Reptile

Introduction:
In the early morning hours, a lowly Cambodian fisherman set out to catch some fish, considering that is what fisherman do, along the banks of the Gulf of Thailand. After sitting still for three days, not catching anything, he finally got a massive bite. His pole danced around like a Frenchman under fire as a hooked fish began to pull line out of the reel. The fisherman picked the rod up in his bait covered hands and gave the rod a mighty jerk, setting the hook.

Much to the fisherman’s dismay, the fish put up little resistance as it was being reeled in. As the fish began to come onto the bank, the fisherman realized it wasn’t a fish at all. It was a blasted sea turtle. Meaning he would have to cut his precious line and re-rig the pole.

As he was about to do just that, a Buddhist priest hiding in a pile of sand popped out and scared the bugaboos out of him. The priest then began to rant and rave about how this turtle he had caught was holy and had the ability to heal the sick.

Overjoyed, they took the poor little turtle away from his habitat and placed him in the Temple where everyone in their brother could lay their filthy hands on him. The sad turtle sat waiting for someone brave and courageous to come and take him away from this life of misery.
*************
As we walked about the streets of Cambodia, I was trying to figure out why in the world we were here. What good deed could such a great hero like Rodney Peete accomplish in such a place as this.

"Rodney, why are we here?" I asked, puzzled.

"I had a vision last night," said Rodney Peete, "A sea turtle was sitting on a pedestal, it looked sad and like it was longing for its home. I saw people dressed in strange clothing all about him, they seemed to be worshiping him. The turtle wanted none of this, he wanted to swim in the sea and play with the other turtles. To catch his own food, not have people bring it to him. So when I woke up, I knew to come here and free this sea turtle from his captors. I have to return him to the sea, from whence he came."

I was taken back by Rodney Peete’s heart. A heart that cared for every creature, big or small, important or French. Our hero was willing to put his life on the line to free a helpless sea turtle.

"Ba, risk everything for a stupid little turtle," said Pierre, "Americans, you waste your lives for stupid reasons."

"Yeah," I said, "Stupid things like saving the French from the Germans. Why did we save you?"

We walked out of a small city into the countryside. The traveling from there seemed endless, we covered many miles heading toward the mountains off in the distance. After several days, we finally reached a large stone building carved into the side of the mountain.

"That’s a Buddhist Temple," said Rodney Peete. I was flabbergasted how he could have known what that building was without even entering it.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Well, Big L," said Rodney Peete, I shuddered in the awe of his greatness that spoke my name, "I see little Buddha Statues outside." Once more I was thrown into wonderment on how his eyes could pick up on such small details.

"How do you plan on getting into that large pile of stone?" asked Pierre, "What are you going to do once inside? I am sure they won’t just let you walk up and take their precious turtle. How do you even know this is the right temple? There could be hundreds of temples here in the mountains. You have absolutely no proof that this was the right one."

"That is the same thing the French said when Germany threatened to invade, they wanted more proof," I said, "the next thing the world knows, the Eiffel Tower was flying a Nazi flag." That shut the little pee brain up. I could not believe that the ignorant little turd would doubt the greatness of Rodney Peete.

Rodney had a strange wisdom about him, he contained a knowledge not known to most people. He knew things that my simple American mind could not even begin to fathom.
I looked at the Buddhist temple right in front of us, thinking of what masterful plan Rodney would come up with. How he would get passed all the priests scurrying about, making sure that their holy turtle was cared for?

I glanced at Rodney. The sun was shining down around him, casting a brilliant glow about his body, as he studied the temple.

"I have an idea," said Rodney, snapping me out of my trance, "Look at that statue of Buddha, Big L. Who does it somewhat remind you of?"

I looked at the statue and to my amusement realized Buddha looked much like Pierre. Of course it all made sense though. The Buddhists were pacifists and hated warfare, the French also hated warfare. Although the Buddhists hated war because their religion taught against it, the French hated war because it always meant another humiliating defeat. Intrigued on how Rodney could identify such things, I wondered on how this was going to be a part of the great plan.

"What does that have to do with the plan?" I asked him.

"Well, Big L," once more I a warm feeling came over me ask Rodney spoke my name, "The plan is to dress Pierre up like Buddha, although his nationality is a bit different than the actual Buddha’s that is ok. When the priests see him, they will think Pierre is the Buddha reincarnated. So as they all rush around their returned teacher, you and I will sneak off and grab the turtle then make off for the Gulf of Thailand."

The plan was great...it was better than great...it was awesome. The shire brilliance of Rodney Peete was definitely shining through. At the same time, I was humbled by Rodney Peete including me in the part of the plan with him. That he would allow a simple American white boy like me to take part in such a larger than life scheme.

"I will not defile myself to such a thing," said the pansy. I was quite irritated, usually the French were willing to allow themselves to take positions of high stature. They usually accepted such things with eagerness, mainly because opportunities to be at the top of the totem pole were rare.

"Oh c’mon, Pierre. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for a peon like you," I replied, "You will actually be liked by someone for a change."

After much pestering and coaxing, I finally got the plump Frank to agree. Seconds later we had him dressed in an authentic Buddha costume. It was one of those moments where I wished I had a camera, the already ridiculous looking jelly roll appeared even more hilarious.

The time came and Rodney sent Pierre off, as we crept slowly and quietly behind him. As the bimbo entered the temple, a group of priests ran toward him. Rodney and I were too far away to hear the actual conversation, but the plan must of worked because the priests bowed down in reference of the Fruddha (the name I had come up with for Pierre).

As they continued to be deceived by the peon, Rodney and I quietly made our way into the temple. We ran down the stone corridor, passed thousands of little Buddha statues with torches sitting in them, finally coming to a large table with an awning over it.

Inside I saw the saddest, most unhappy, disturbed, and frightened little sea turtle. Its poor skin was dried out from the not being in the water. Realizing the dire need of the little turtle, Rodney reached out to take it. The turtle crawled into Rodney’s arms unafraid, as if it knew he were coming.

Rodney tucked the turtle underneath his arm and secured it there like it was a football. We quickly turned to race back out, but to our displeasure we heard voices echoing from the entrance, coming to where we were. Frantically, we searched for a place to hide, but none could be found. Knowing that our fate would be decided in any moment, Rodney turned toward the entrance looking determined and prepared to conquer anything that the enemy may throw at him.

Sure enough, a group of priests were coming toward us, carrying a golden throne with Pierre sitting in it. I was amazed at the scrawny priest’s ability to carry such a heavy chair with a fat French seated upon it.

When the priests saw us standing there, with their holy reptile in Rodney’s arms, their mouths dropped open, the golden chair fell to the ground, and Pierre hit the ground like a large boulder.

"Ekaiw, fowhfnwoiegnoerighadkmgjoiwpieufnweriphu8we fjwlvbnm 1390uj bkdajvl qwioweu 908435 8!!" one of the priests screamed at us. At least I was pretty sure there were a couple of nines in there.

"Oh yeah, well, You Suck!" I yelled back, not going to be out done.

"No, You Suck, cracker!" said the same priest, surprisingly in English this time.

Now I was upset, I had just got called a cracker by a statue worshiping moron dressed in his grandmother’s bathrobe . I threw down the things I was carrying in my arms, getting ready to give this idiot the thrashing of his life.

"Silly American," chuckled the priest, "you do not know what you are messing with. I, Ron Chi the Great, will show you the error of your ways. " As I took a step forward to knock his ever loving face off, the priest reached into his bathrobe and whipped out a machine gun. The rest of the group soon followed his lead.

"Uh-oh." I uttered, noticing that I hadn't even brought a knife to a gun fight.

At the sight of the weapons, Pierre hit the ground and covered his head, and lifted a white flag in the air.

"He is French!" shouted Ron Chi, "He cannot be Buddha, the imposter must die!" Ron Chi then lifted Pierre to his feet and pointed the gun at his head. On the outside I appeared concerned for Pierre, for this Ron Chi guy was out of his wits, but on the inside I was chuckling because once more the French had surrendered and Rodney, the Great American Hero, would have to come to his rescue.

"I thought the Buddhists were a peaceful people?" cried Pierre.

"Most are, but the priests of this monastery belong to a new breed of Buddhists," said Ron Chi, "We are set on conquering the world and forcing them to follow the truths of Buddha, washing away all who are unclean. We call ourselves the Radbudd. Now prepare to die you impure scoundrel!"

"Let him go, Ron Chi," said Rodney, stepping forward, starring down the canons of death, unworried about the potential danger. He then handed me the turtle.

"Rodney Peete, you are no match for us," said Ron Chi, letting out an evil laugh, "Your feeble skills will be..." Before he could finish his sentence, Rodney Peete tackled him to the ground.

Bouncing quickly to his feet, Rodney delivered a lung crushing blow to Ron Chi. He then turned and did a double close line, sending two more of the Radbudd crashing to the ground. One Radbudd tried to fire his gun, but Rodney quickly threw one of his footballs and knocked it out of his hand.

Ron Chi jumped back to his feet, and began to dance back and forth like a boxer. He swiftly kicked at Rodney, but Rodney caught his leg and threw a destroying punch. To finish him off, Rodney followed with a roundhouse kick, sending Ron Chi flying across the room and crashing into the table that once held the sea turtle.

With all of the Radbudd lying on the ground in extreme pain, and with Ron Chi on the ground unconscious, we took off toward the entrance with Pierre following and the turtle safely tucked under my arm.

After we had reached the entrance and were safely outside, Rodney stopped and reached into his pocket, pulling out a football. However, this football was not like the ones he used for his balls of fury. As a matter of fact, I had never seen a pigskin with the likes of this one in my life.

"Big L," said Rodney, "I don’t believe in using weapons such as I am holding, for they bring great pain and sadness into the world from the unnecessary deaths that they cause. But this time is different. The Radbudd are a group that could bring bad things to many peoples everywhere, so they must be destroyed." Rodney launched the football back into the temple, and then we all took off running toward the coast as a sudden burst of flames ripped a part the temple behind us.

After we reached the coast, Rodney sat the sea turtle on the ground and pushed it toward the water trying to get it to return from that which it came. The turtle looked up as if to thank Rodney for his heroic deed and then excitedly hurried into the water. Seconds later we saw its flipper like arm reach out of the water and wave good bye to us, then we saw him no more. I was deeply moved as I saw tear stream down Rodney’s cheeks. It touched me that saving the life of a creature like that would mean so much to someone as great as Rodney.

Nevertheless, with the Chelonian reptile back in its natural habitat, and the evil Ron Chi and his evil minions defeated, Rodney headed off for yet another adventure, once again overcoming all opposition and restoring peace and tranquility to a hopeless world.

Episode 1: Chamber of the Ripe Paladin

Introduction:
Long Ago there once lived a happy little band of Eskimos in the land we today call Greenland. The Eskimos lived in a realm of complete harmony and peace with their arctic surroundings, untainted by the plunderers and crazy white man that lived in the far of lands of Europe and Asia. It was a realm of complete Utopia, where everyone knew your name and no wars were fought. However, that all would soon change.

One dark and snowy night, a ship carrying armed warriors from a distant world arrived in search of villages to raid and destroy. After searching for some time in the bitter cold, these Vikings, as they were called, came across a some cluster of lighthearted Eskimos. The cruel Vikings crushed the unsuspecting village into the dust, not leaving one person alive or building.

Realizing that these crackers were ruthless and evil, the Eskimos decided they must do something to stop these insane monsters. They turned to the greatest warrior amongst them, whom some called Daulfus, others just called him the Great Eskimo Warrior. Daulfus was not tall, but he was by far the fattest Eskimo to walk across the frozen terrain of Greenland. He did not wear armor, but was protected by several thick layers of fat. Despite his massive body size, he was quicker than an arctic hare and more beastly than a polar bear.

With their warrior awakened and ready for war, they set out to rid their peaceful land of the Euro-trash invading their lands. Many of the Vikings laughed as they saw Daulfus approaching them, for he was not carrying any weapons that they could see. But he indeed had two powerful weapons, his bare hands. Hands that had crushed the skulls of many polar bears who wandered to closely to his home.

Not knowing of their opponent’s great strength, the Vikings charged with their swords drawn. The approximate forty-one Vikings sliced and diced until their arms could slice and dice no more, and to their displeasure each blow had just bounced off Daulfus’s padded body. After exhaustion overwhelmed the Vikings, Daulfus attacked them, viciously snapping their bones and tossing them like a snow ball.

As GEW (or the Great Eskimo Warrior) disposed of the Vikings at an alarming rate, a young Viking picked up a rock and launched it at Daulfus’s face. Unaware of the projectile streaming toward his face, Daulfus raced his chubby arms in triumph thinking he had defeated his despicable foes. As he began to rejoice, the rock crashed into his right eye and mushed it like a wine maker stomping on his grapes.

In an extreme discomfort and unable to see, GEW stumbled back into his ranks. Eventually, the puny little Eskimos were overrun by the madmen of the sea. The defeated Eskimos retreated into the mountains, with about three hundred men carrying their fallen warrior.

Daulfus never recovered from his wound, and on his death bed he swore that he would one day arise and have revenge on the nomads of the sea. After he died, the Eskimos buried him in a secret tomb somewhere in the mountains of Greenland, and it is rumored that if his tomb be disturbed he would awaken and reek havoc on the world.
*************
There I stood in the middle of nowhere, freezing my buns off in the mountains of Greenland, searching from some dead warrior who had ceased to exist a long time ago, wishing for a cup of hot coffee to warm my chilled bones, and a club to bash Pierre’s puny French brains.

The entire trip Pierre had done nothing but complain. To make it even more annoying, he was doing it in French. After listening to him rant and rave, I realized why the Germans conquered France so fast in World War II, they were tired of hearing there mouths.

"Are we there yet? My little toes are frozen," said Pierre in his accent, "Why couldn’t we have taken a helicopter or a snow mobile, instead of walking all this way?..." He then began to mutter some words in his native tongue.

Having enough, I grabbed that blabbering buffoon by the shirt collar and lifted him clear off the ground. "Listen up, little peon," I said, getting right in his face. Immediately I regretted doing that, for his foul breath was enough to gag a sanitation engineer. "If you don’t stop speaking I am going to smash in your ugly face!"

"Big L," said the Great Rodney Peete.

"Yes," I answered, enthralled by how graciously the words followed from him and his even more awing elite noble stature.

"Leave him alone," said Rodney Peete, "he maybe needed on this adventure."

At this moment I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I had to choose between beating the ever loving brains out of the Frenchman and displeasing Rodney Peete. Deciding that it would be unwise to upset Rodney and have him release his balls of fury upon me, I would vent my anger until another time.

"Ha, you didn’t not want to mess with me, I am too tough for you, piece of American trailer park trash" taunted Pierre. I strongly fought the urge to hit him in his trash talking mouth, but I was going to wait for a better opportunity. If there was one thing I had learned from history class, it was that the French always found ways to get themselves into trouble.

We continued tracking on the seemingly never ending, freezing cold, mountain path with Rodney Peete at the helm, leading us ever closer to the lost tomb of Daulfus, the Great Eskimo Warrior. Every so often, Rodney would stop at look down at a map with strange writing on it, unknown symbols that I, more or less anyone, had ever seen before. I was dazzled by his ability to read such things without if even stopping to think.

Finally we stopped outside the entrance of a dark cave. On the outside above the entrance were symbols that were similar to the one on the map. They appeared like this: Tomb of the Great Eskimo Warrior

"What do those symbols say?" I asked Rodney Peete.

"Big L," chills went down my spine as he spoke my name, "they say: Tomb of the Great Eskimo Warrior." I went forward to enter the dark cave, but Rodney Peete stopped me, aware of some unknown danger. "There is a drop off at the entrance of this tomb, how far it drops, I don’t know."

Pierre walked up to the edge and tried to peep down, but it was too dark to see anything, so it was completely pointless. Then an idea hit me as he was standing there. I quickly walked up behind that peon and gave him a little shove. He fought to keep his balance for a few seconds, but his pot belly caused him to fall forward into the dark unknown. I heard him crash into the ground only a few seconds later and, to my disappointment, Pierre moan signifying he was still alive. At least we knew there was only a five foot drop down into the cave.

The heroic Rodney Peete once more stunned me as he dropped into the cave, undismayed by the pressing darkness and the eerie silence of the unknown lair. Ashamed of my own cowardice, I quickly followed behind him.

Amazingly in the pitch black, Rodney Peete found a torch, lighting it in a matter of seconds. He lead us down a path between two walls of solid rock. The sound of critters scattering and scurrying around, trying escape the approaching light echoed throughout the tomb, giving me the willies.

As Rodney lead us fearlessly down the path, we came to a massive room. The torch revealed ancient pottery and, much to our delight, treasures lining the walls on the right and left. We rushed toward the piles of gold and silver, unaware of the door in front of the room and the inscription written above it.

Pierre attempted to run and take most of the share for himself, but I was not going to be outdone by such a filthy lowlife as him. I quickly raced toward him, but his French legs (which were used to fleeing from enemies) carried him much quicker. Doing the only thing I could, I dove at him. Luckily I grabbed him by the hood of his coat and pulled him down. Triumphantly, I grabbed as much of the goodies as I could.

Rodney calmly and graciously walked over to the treasure and began taking his share. As if meant to be touched by his hands, the precious articles seemed to simmer all the brighter as he touched them. Suddenly the joyous moment, my greed, and the stuffing of treasure into my pockets stopped as the room began to violently shake. Rodney, knowing exactly what to do in such a situation, looked to the inscription of the door. It said: Tomb of Daulfus, Please Do Not Take His Precious Riches, for he will need them in the afterlife. If your stupid and do, strange and terrible things will happen to you.

"Tomb of Daulfus, Please Do Not Take His Precious Riches, for he will need them in the afterlife. If your stupid and do, strange and terrible things will happen to you," translated Peete, reading it as if it were English.

The room began to shake even more violently and the closed door underneath the inscription was now open. The torch began to flicker and burn, as a quick swirl of wind rushed past me.

"What is happening?" cried the terrified Pierre.

Being the smart eolic that I am, I answered, "Strange and terrible things." Unaware of the supernatural happenings and the severity of the danger, Pierre did what most of his country men did in a time of crisis, he turn and ran back down the way we came.
Not seeing the massive one-eyed fat dead freak standing in the way, Pierre bounced off its badly decomposed blubber, sending him crashing to the floor. The dead dude grabbed Pierre by his throat and lifted him clear off the ground.

Realizing our companion’s danger, I began to laugh hysterically. Watching Pierre’s legs kick wildly, trying to escape the grasp of his certain doom, and his constant gasps for air, were too much. My sides ached from laughter.

"Put him down, chubby" said Rodney Peete. Amongst the tears that were filled in my eyes, I saw Rodney standing their staring down the beast in a radiant defiance. Raising his arm, Rodney motioned the freak to bring it.

The thing dropped Pierre like the doctor should have when the fruitcake was born, and charged to Rodney Peete, shaking the ground as he ran. As it neared our hero, it let out an awful and terrifying roar.

Rodney Peete stood there, undaunted by the beast, ready to engage in the epic battle that was to come. Reaching into his back packet, Rodney pulled out a football. It was at that moment, I knew what he was doing. He was going to unleash the balls of fury.
As the creature got within two feet, Rodney launched the ball, to my amazement the stinking corpse swiftly swatted it away. Our hero was now in some serious trouble.

Unafraid of the colossus terror, Rodney Peete began to grapple the decayed blob. Rodney’s massive arms looked like pine needles in the grasp of the one-eyed monster. Daulfus (I have run out of cool names to describe the evil villain) lifted Rodney of the ground and tossed him to the ground. As he crashed to the earth, Daulfus brought his massive leg down on our hero’s unprotected chest.Trying to regain the air in his lungs, Rodney was unable to protect himself as GEW lifted him off the ground and threw him into the rocky wall.

After regaining himself, Rodney struggled to his feet. Blood poured down his face from the impact as he steadied himself for Daulfus’s next attack. Daulfus charged at Rodney once more, but this time as he neared, Rodney leaped over him and sent Daulfus runnning into the wall.

As GEW now struggled to regain himself, Rodney Peete reached with both hands into both of his back pockets. He was going for the balls of fury with both hands. When Daulfus turned to face him once more, Rodney let both balls go. Immediately he reached back into his pockets and prepared another set. He continuously bombarded GEW with a deadly volley of pigskins. Finally one ball zoomed and struck Daulfus in his one good eye.

GEW let out an agonizing roar as blood and liquids streamed from his crushed eye. His whole body began to shake, as if he were urinating on an electric fence, and then suddenly Daulfus exploded. The catastrophic force knocked us to the ground and caused the entire tomb to begin shake.

Rodney, seeming unexhausted from his recent squabble, grabbed Pierre and ran toward the cave exit with the tomb collapsing around them. I myself, once I had gotten back on my feet, took off running, so I was already long out of the cave as Rodney Peete came out carrying Pierre. Appearing out just as the entrance of the cave collapsed and was sealed off forever.

Thus empty handed, tired, cold, and exhausted but alive, we headed toward the airport in search of our next adventure. Knowing that Rodney Peete had miraculously slipped past the reach of death and defeated the force of evil.