Tuesday, March 02, 2010

SpaceGodzilla, Battra, and Moguera: Constant Retards Big Mac Attack


(It's totally RADical. Totally.)

The first of March is a national holiday in (South) Korea; while I won't trouble our lovable, huggable readership with the history, details, or traditions of said national holiday, rest assured that a merry time was had by all (who matter). If anything, it was a fitting conclusion to a tumultuous week that began with ample heartbreak and humiliation, yet nevertheless went on to become one of dazzling triumphs, culminating with what was perhaps the greatest Olympic hockey game of the past thirty years.*

Speaking of triumph, Monday was a day of Sparkles and myself chomping down on Big Macs at a McDonald's** in the sleepy hamlet known to some as Poontang*** though the magic lies not in what, where, or how we ate, but why, and to do that, Derailed Reader, we've some serious backtracking to embark upon.

Back in February when Murdox (CoRe 19) joined the elite commando squad known as the A-Team Constant Retards, I proffered an audience with none other than the Pope of Poontang aka Jikko pka The Little Shih Tzu That Could to the (then) forthcoming Twentieth Retard. Lo and behold, a few days later Psychedelic Kimchi was graced with CoRe Two-Zero....

Straight from the black hole that is life beyond the Korean peninsula came Professor Brian O'Blivion as SpaceGodzilla as Professor Brian O'Blivion to wreak havoc upon all that stands in his way, including (but not limited to) horror films, sassy lasses, movie posters, White Castle, and Scientology.

The Professor: not your momma's blogger!

With the arrival of a Twentieth Retard came the onus to keep Jikko off the Drano just long enough to be semi-coherent for a video conference between the two giants, which proved to be a monumental task in-of-itself -technical difficulties notwithstanding- as neither Sparkles nor myself were prepared for Jikko's secret stash of Special K, and you don't fuck with a dog and her recreational drugs so that endeavor was, understandably, shelved much to the dismay of all involved. 

I felt bad, sure, but what's a girl to do, right? Nothing, that's what, except wait for Jikko to pass out long enough to insufflate dispose of her shit, submerge the bitch in a bathtub filled to the brim with ice cubes, and strap her to a queen-sized bed till the storm blew over. 

After that thirty-six hour ordeal, we were set to commence with the aforementioned audience but as fate would have it, yet another Constant Retard swooped in for the kill...

Enter SuperFantabulous as Battra as SuperFantabulous, the shadowy yin to Mothra's annoyingly luminescent yang. She's a saucy one, that Battra, but you should see her do a pull-up (in addition to that whole hurricane wind thing) before grabbing that flyswatter.

SuperFantabulous: insanely jealous of Foghorn Leghorn

As one may presume, this threw the proverbial wrench into the gears of an otherwise half-assed plan, so damage control was in order. We couldn't very well allow two interviews or -dare I say it- a ménage à trois even if it would be apropos in all the right ways, and thus we had to develop another plan. Back to the drawing board? Sorta. It was at this juncture that the notion of a Jikkast came into being; namely, a thirty-six hour podcast of Jikko going through withdrawal, but wait, wait. Jikko had already gone through detox, so that would scarcely be feasible unless, of course, we were to get Jikko back on the crack wagon, put her on ice, and subsequently strap her to a second queen-sized bed (the first one had been thoroughly decimated) to endure another bloodstained intervention, and we did just that. (Dedication, thy name is Eoin Highly!)

And we were cool, we were gold, but then came along a twenty-second Retard...

Fueled by pure ethanol and Cheeze-Its, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot as Moguera as Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, robot without a cause! Did you know that he can split himself into two parts, each of which can obliterate reptilian lifeforms? Now you do, and so does he. 

WTF: life beyond Thunderdome!

Some folks would label this a setback, but those folks don't know Psychedelic Kimchi; it was merely the impetus for innovation, and that innovation was Retard Appreciation Day, or RAD, not to be confused with R.A.D.D. (Retards Against Drunk Driving). Sparkles proposed a renewed effort to update the hallowed Perfect Pass and without needlessly rehashing the plan, you could say he had me at Hite.****

My problem is that I'm both a perfectionist and amateurish cinematographer, and as such, I demanded we shoot the throw from numerous angles; given that he'd be throwing and I'd be the only one filming, this required several throws. Logical enough, yet I caution that we're predisposed toward (Psychedelic) K-Logic, and thus in lieu of throwing a single pitcher of Hite, Sparkles purchased an entire case of Hite Pitchers from the nearby E-Mart, so as to chug one upon each and every completed pass (and then some). I chastised him, of course, but he successfully countered by noting the bottle of Jack Daniels nestled within my camera bag. Touche, and all that. 

We hit up AK Plaza to perform the final deed of our trifecta celebration, and I won't bore you with every possible detail, though I'd be happy to give you the Reader's Digest version of the twenty-eight minutes spent filming.

(First Pass) Perfection! Chug. Swig of whiskey on my part. Locals appear bewildered.
2) Perfection! Chug. Swig of whiskey.
3) Perfection, but this time with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Chug. Swig of whiskey.
4) Completion, though the pitcher is quite wobbly while traveling through the air. Chug. Swig of whiskey. Smoke break.
5) Completion, though the camera is a bit wobbly during filming. Chug. Swig of whiskey. Bathroom break. 
6) Pass incomplete, on account of Sparkles body-checking a street vendor. Smoked sausages fly everywhere. Chug. Swig of whiskey.
7) Camera dropped. Redo. 
8) Pass thrown, but Sparkles runs into the local Family Mart to score a new pack of smokes. Woman injured by spiraling pitcher. 300,000 Won paid in blood money. Chug. Swig of whiskey. 
9) Pass possibly completed, but footage is of a shapely woman's backside. Chug. Swig of whiskey. Poop break. 
10) Pass not made. Camera set down to film Sparkles and I engage in a slap fight. Local populace amused. Chug. Swig of whiskey. 
11) ?

I put a question mark on number eleven because, well, everything after that is a blur up until I came back into consciousness at the local McDonald's, which is strange because it's not local at all since it's way the fuck over in Sunae. We were seated in the McLounge, and Sparkles was pointing his finger at a life-sized statue of the Hamburgler, shouting "She can't talk that way to me! I have a blog!" with several French fries dangling from his mouth while I proceeded to devour 2.3 Big Macs. Strange indeed, and it's rather difficult to edit video while insanely hungover.

That's why there's nothing better to post today, and like I said earlier, the why is what's important.

Happy (belated) Retard Appreciation Day!

* Miracle on Ice excluded, of course.

** No Lotteria, since they fucked up what should have been a simple request with an unusually astounding degree of incompetence (and by Lotteria standards, that's saying a lot).

*** God bless erroneous transliteration!

**** To be fair, I had suggested retitling it The Perfect Cass, but Sparkles rejected the notion on the grounds of it being utterly pedestrian wit. 

1 comment:

SuperFantabulous said...

I am well on my way to reaching my hopes and dreams of not only doing pull ups but also of having an erection that rivals even Foghorn Leghorn's. In the end, I will have a six pack and I will triumph!