Tomorrow Adventures with Crash Bangin'!
It's a beautiful fall day in the metropolis, the start of another peaceful morning for our hero, Crash Bangin': Intergalactic Office Manager from Beyond.
Crash: Ahhhh what a fantastic morning! Rather than take the train to work, I think I'll...take to the skies instead!
Peeeowwwwwww!
Crash blasts through the clouds via his favorite mode of trasportatioin: Radtonian Rocket Boots! All seems well for our olive skinned hero, as things always do during a typical prelude to disaster.
...Meanwhile, across town, the villainous robo-lord Ad Execu-Tor savagely flexes his iron grip on pitiful corporate slaves.
Execu-Tor: Rraaaarrr! I grow tired of pissing on you same fools everyday! I need a fresh soul to deposit heavy amounts of bodily waste upon. You, shit covered one. Be proactive in your search to touch base with new blood! Rhaaarrrgh, paradigm shift!
Zoom! Back at the office...
Crash: Good morning, Receptotron. How goes it?
Receptotron: *Beep* All is glorious, handsome one. You have a message *Blip*.
Crash: A message? What kind of primative cretin would possibly leave a message in this day and age of psychic voicemail?
Receptotron: *Bleep* Your ex-wife.
Crash: Zounds! What could that physical manifestation of fart clouds want with me?
Receptotron: *Cha-Ching* She wants to know if you will loan her the sum of three hundred dollars.
Crash: Loan? Until when?
Receptotron: *Bong* Yet to be determined.
Crash: Loan my atomic scrotum! She's probably going to blow it on a cock filled night of cock-suckery, then claim I owed it to her for mental damages! Fuck that damndable woman and her puny mind games! Receptotron, please schedule a lunch meeting with her. I wish to say this to her face.
Suddenly, Ad Execu-Tor's henchmen smash through the window!
Henchman: Crash Bangin', you will come with us to face the mighty Ad Execu-Tor of the Gillette Empire. Or you can stay here and die, I suppose.
Crash: Filthy man-whore! I'll show you who runs the dry understatement business around here! Receptotron, to my side!
A battle ensues the likes of which the world hasn't seen at least since yesterday. Please stand back while danger ensues.
*Zap!*
*Blooey!*
*Cock-Punch!*
*Fish Hooking!*
And Crash Bangin' emerges victorious once again!
Crash: Now to business. But first, I need to prioritize my day's activities.
A) If you want to see Crash tell his ex wife off and possibly fight her to the laser filled death, choose A.
B) If you want to see Crash face off against the mighty Ad-Execu-Tor with laser filled consequences, choose B. Either way there's lasers.
It's a beautiful fall day in the metropolis, the start of another peaceful morning for our hero, Crash Bangin': Intergalactic Office Manager from Beyond.
Crash: Ahhhh what a fantastic morning! Rather than take the train to work, I think I'll...take to the skies instead!
Peeeowwwwwww!
Crash blasts through the clouds via his favorite mode of trasportatioin: Radtonian Rocket Boots! All seems well for our olive skinned hero, as things always do during a typical prelude to disaster.
...Meanwhile, across town, the villainous robo-lord Ad Execu-Tor savagely flexes his iron grip on pitiful corporate slaves.
Execu-Tor: Rraaaarrr! I grow tired of pissing on you same fools everyday! I need a fresh soul to deposit heavy amounts of bodily waste upon. You, shit covered one. Be proactive in your search to touch base with new blood! Rhaaarrrgh, paradigm shift!
Zoom! Back at the office...
Crash: Good morning, Receptotron. How goes it?
Receptotron: *Beep* All is glorious, handsome one. You have a message *Blip*.
Crash: A message? What kind of primative cretin would possibly leave a message in this day and age of psychic voicemail?
Receptotron: *Bleep* Your ex-wife.
Crash: Zounds! What could that physical manifestation of fart clouds want with me?
Receptotron: *Cha-Ching* She wants to know if you will loan her the sum of three hundred dollars.
Crash: Loan? Until when?
Receptotron: *Bong* Yet to be determined.
Crash: Loan my atomic scrotum! She's probably going to blow it on a cock filled night of cock-suckery, then claim I owed it to her for mental damages! Fuck that damndable woman and her puny mind games! Receptotron, please schedule a lunch meeting with her. I wish to say this to her face.
Suddenly, Ad Execu-Tor's henchmen smash through the window!
Henchman: Crash Bangin', you will come with us to face the mighty Ad Execu-Tor of the Gillette Empire. Or you can stay here and die, I suppose.
Crash: Filthy man-whore! I'll show you who runs the dry understatement business around here! Receptotron, to my side!
A battle ensues the likes of which the world hasn't seen at least since yesterday. Please stand back while danger ensues.
*Zap!*
*Blooey!*
*Cock-Punch!*
*Fish Hooking!*
And Crash Bangin' emerges victorious once again!
Crash: Now to business. But first, I need to prioritize my day's activities.
A) If you want to see Crash tell his ex wife off and possibly fight her to the laser filled death, choose A.
B) If you want to see Crash face off against the mighty Ad-Execu-Tor with laser filled consequences, choose B. Either way there's lasers.
VIEW 18 of 18 COMMENTS
funny, man, but you will get yours pappito!
some of the quick kill klique just happen to use walkers these days, THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!!!
jerk.