Now, on As the Disq Turns…
A small group of renegade, shape-shifting aliens has escaped from their people and crash landed their ship on the outskirts of town, incidentally taking out a small marijuana farm and its owner who no one gave a shit about in the first place on the way. Although the aliens are concerned that their mothership will be searching for them in order to bring them to justice, the mothership, frankly, isn’t. As far as they’re concerned, Earth can have them. They were more trouble than they were worth.
The aliens learn to mimic our ways by watching the three reruns of Jesus’ talk show that air over and over again at 3am and repeating what they hear.
Then they take on human form. However, the names they choose for themselves, Darwin Hickey, Tealle Deare, and Clifford Wadsack, leave a little something to be desired. They all manage to get jobs in and around town, some near the asylum. The Homeless Queen of the Internet, who was remanded to the asylum’s custody the other week, is strangely affected by their proximity, and now has occasional fits of normalcy and clarity that confound the psychiatric staff. At this point, some of them are thinking it could be a miracle, or at least they would if the other inmates still weren’t as cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs as ever.
The Reverend Oral Subconscious has given up on Jesus’ talk show and has taken over Homeless’ old streetcorners in the hope that someone will still listen to his inane rambling. At least now he gets the occasional handful of change thrown at him by a poor soul with guilt issues so he can buy himself a cup of coffee at the local dive. Luckily for The Reverend, however, he has found some new people to exploit in Secret Agent 2 and Dandelion, who were heartbroken at both being unable to adopt their bedbugs and not being allowed back into the Cult because they were still too dumb by even Cult standards. Together, they hatch a plan to get back into the living rooms of the people by continuing to lie, cheat, defame, and be as stalkery, angry, and confrontational as possible. That’s bound to work, right?
Unfortunately, the Reverend has some competition – Paul the Ambulance Chaser. He recently left a law firm that he accused of being abusive, filled with drama, and guilty of many nefarious acts. He’s now started his own firm but doesn’t realize the time and energy it takes – you can’t be sitting at the bar all day discussing your sexual fantasies with random people.
So, Paul has taken the easy route. He’s now lowered himself to chasing ambulances looking for the low hanging fruit. On any given day, you can see him preaching on the opposite street corners to the Reverend, telling the world how he’s repented and changed his ways. You find him in back alleys telling the down trodden, “Rise up! Let you voices be heard!” You also find him in hanging around various meetings telling the participants that he feels their pain and if they visit his new firm, they will be treated with the utmost respect unlike the way he used to treat them at that other icky firm. Of course, what they don’t know is that no one forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do over there. Well, except ask him to tone it the fuck down once in a while.
Professor Marvel, enraged that people laughed at his last cardboard robot, built an even bigger cardboard robot with flashing lights and bells on it. Unfortunately, he forgot to unplug the lights when he went to bed and it caught on fire next to his extra large tub of flammable masturbation-aiding lubricant, blowing up his whole house with him in it. Fortunately, no one else was hurt.
Will we find out who fished the rare 8-inch bronze eggplant out of Limp Mongoose’s pants? Maybe! Tune in next time!
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