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.