Chapter 2: Los Pollos Homos

About the Author: The Manitoba Dental Association has declared the sound of Buster Manwomb singing Barenaked Ladies karaoke as an economical but painful alternative to thirty simultaneous root canals, and have been jointly funding a bounty for Buster Manwomb's head ever since the incident known by locals as the 'night of a million lost teeth'.

They are considered musical and extremely dangerous.

ooo

Welcome back!" Buster Manwomb smiled, crossing his legs and subtly slapping their tuxedo until it stopped shivering. "You know what I like? Chicken sandwiches. You know what I hate? Homophobes. You know what else I love? Chicken sandwiches that piss off homophobes, like our good homosexual sandwich friends, Steve and Pablo. Last we saw them they were getting ready for some cheeky bum diddles while in the land of Oz. While we have not quite finished or conceived the official follow up yet, trust me when I saw that nobody here is above spewing out a dreaded holiday interquel! But first, give it up for the Jefferson Starship!"

A stock audience of rats that you previously thought were Buster Manwomb's rug erupted into artificially passionate cheer as two racoons rolled up a decades-old laptop playing the Jefferson Starship performance from the Star Wars holiday special. You can watch it on Vimeo if you really want, but it's not necessary. Buster Manwomb was just using this opportunity to snort a mix of cocaine and powdered kool-aid they call 'holiday medley' and get promptly defibrillated.

"Roll the clip!" Buster Manwomb said upon regaining consciousness, pointing at the camera from their prostrate position.

ooo

Sixty-Nine Hues of Gay Chick Fil-A Gaiden: Gay Sex, a T-Rex, and a dead witch's hex

"You bastards!" The wicked witch of the West said. She had found Steve and Pablo, the two viscerally queer Chick-Fil-A sandwiches that exist almost purely to piss off Chick-Fil-A, doing some slappy bum diddles in their cabin after a moose tornado (fuckin' Canada, eh?) flung them to Oz, crushed the Wicked Witch of the East, and decided to take their stress out on each other's buttholes for long enough that the Wicked Witch of the West found them. She didn't even need to use her magic to find them. Their gay sex was so shrieky and thunderous that the citizens of Narnia were able to hear it from the next intellectual property over.

"At last, my pretties!" The witch gloated to her army of avian simians. "I have been able to find my sister's killers, and actually avenger her this time! Mwah-ha-hah!"

Steve and Pablo were thrown into a pit, unsure of what's going on. They had that post-coital lack of situational awareness that only comes when one's prostate is bumped upon in just the right way.

"This is… not even close to my top ten ways I expected this afternoon to go." Pablo said, looking down. There was a T-Rex in the pit below them. "Ah well. If Imma get eaten, I'd want to get eaten by a fuck-mothering dinosaur."

"Yeah." Steve said in that sort of defeated tone that's only meant to sound defeated until an escape opportunity presents itself to the protagonists. "But at least the sex was good while it lasted."

"So good."

"Yeah."

And then the rope was cut, dropping them into the T-Rex pit.

"Well, I guess this is it." Steve said.

"Wait!" Pablo noticed something. "Don't you recognize this T-Rex?"

"Oh, shit, yeah!" Steve said. Immediately they shuffled into against the wall of the pit.

"Gah!" The T-Rex from Meet The Robinsons groaned. "Corners! My one weakness! Curse my little arms!"

"You know," Steve said, taking the opportunity to negotiate. "We were made by homophobes. You don't want to support homophobes by eating us, do you?"

"No…. No, I guess not!" The T-rex decided.

"Get us out of here and we'll take you to out to a restaurant that isn't homophobic!" Steve offered.

"I dunno, Chick Fil-A makes some pretty tasty sandwiches."

"Fuck yeah they do." Pablo said, spanking Steve's buns.

Steve shot him a cheeky look before turning back to the T-Rex. "You can elevate any chicken sandwich by adding pickles. It's actually kinda stupid how few restaurants do it."

"Huh." The T-Rex said. "Okay, I guess I'll try it!"

"What are you doing!" The witch said, not hearing the conversation. "Eat them, you Retarded Reptible."

And then the T-Rex bit the ableist slur-using witch's whole body off before letting the sandwiches on his back.

Earl Sinclair, in his bachelor days before he started a family and brought on the apocalypse, was sitting on his armchair enjoying basic cable tv when his roommate, The T-Rex from Meet the Robinsons (it's a 'bambi's mom' type situation with his name) knocked down the door.

"Hey Earl, we're going to A & W! Want a burger?"

"Hey, thanks, T!" Earl answered. "That'd be swell!"

And so, our queer sandwich heroes rode off into the sunset on their new T-Rex friend, heading to Oz's A & W location, hoping its quality is more on par with Canada A & W since American A & Ws are shit.

ooo

"A real tear-jerker. Buster Manwomb nodded as a rumble shook his whole dumpster, causing his tuxedo to shiver to the point that the audience now clearly realizes it's made of sewer rats scotch-taped together.

A knock at the door is repeating itself, becoming progressively louder.

"Let's check at how our good friend, Scooby Doo is doing!" Buster Manwomb says, loading a shotgun and tying a red bandana to their forehead. "Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you're done reading.

The screen cuts away as Buster Manwomb heads to the door, slamming a clip into a previously unseen uzi, singing "oooooh, I'm 'bout to whoop somebody's aaaaass…"

ooo

Scooby doo walked through the shopping mall, swinging sledgehammers into the faces of random entitled dipshits walking around without masks, pulverizing their teeth and most of their lower jaws in acts of what Scoob called 'dentistry with extreme prejudice.'

"My grandma would still be alive if it weren't for you fuckers!" Scooby Doo said in a worrying occurrence of author projection, giving one particularly infuriating, poorly shaven motherfucker who took his mask off to sneeze in a London Drugs twelve to fifteen more slams than was necessary to render his face indistinguishable from a poorly made plate of haggis dipped in ketchup.

At this point Scooby Doo's body count was closer to the hundreds than the dozens, and even though he wasn't much bothered by it because he didn't consider the people who seemed to pride themselves on spreading a yet-to-be-cured disease to be 'people' per-se, he was already at three stars. Several cops went up to Scooby Doo, guns drawn. You know what scooby doo did? He fucking suplexed every one of them. Firstly because ACAB, and secondly because you can't arrest someone without breaking social distancing protocol, and when you've killed more people than corona virus would ever have if these shitting dumb fucks had followed basic public health advisories, you're good and properly fucking desensitized.

[record scratch]

In accordance to the instructions of the Dark Agent, Scooby Doo took the skull of every politician who tried to downplay the virus and encouraged a death toll equivalent to one hundred 9/11s (and counting!) only to turn around and receive the vaccine before any vulnerable person or essential worker, dislodged the spoons that were wedged into each one during the extraction process, and set them unto a septagram, which burned with black flames the moment the final skull was set into place.

Scooby Doo stood emotionless, drenched in blood and armored which the bones of the anti-maskers as the Dark Agent Materialized in the midst of the flames. A robe of fluttering waves of what looked more like pitch-stained skin than proper leather hovered around it. "Do you make the sacrifice?"

"Yes." Scooby Doo said with the dark numbness that only comes when one's life has been burned away, their sole left a charred husk where nothing gives relief or joy except the suffering of the people that can't seem to understand what six fucking feet is.

He accepted his soul's fate. It was a worthy sacrifice, in exchange for the brutal harvest of those that would bring the ruin of their fellow man in exchange for the luxury of sitting in a booth at fucking Waffle House.

"Step into the pentagram."

Darkly, Scooby stepped forward. An unseen force lifted him from the ground. His nerves burned with power as he was imbued with the strength and fury of millions of souls needlessly slaughtered by the greedy ignorance of those who benefit from privatized medicine. The pain did not subside, but Scooby Doo found the strength to overcome it. Oily tentacles miles long pushed out from beneath his skin, digging into the blood-stained soils, stretched out to cities across the world.

"Do you know what you must do?" The dark agent asked.

"I am already doing it." Scooby Doo asked, staring into space, his eyes the colour and texture of smoldering embers.

"Not this." The Dark Agent clarified. "After Humanity is cleansed."

Scooby thought a moment, then he made a wide, joyless smile, black, fermented blood leaking from all the pores of his mouth. "Yesssss."

ooo

"Wowie-zowie was I ever in a dark place when I wrote that!" Buster Manwomb said, marching back onto the set, and dropping a bulk-sized pickle jar that you can eventually discern contains at least fifteen human faces.

"Of course I'm leaving that mess on the floor, we live in a dumpster!" Buster Manwomb screamed at the butler rat while hurriedly stuffing his Playbook, Tandy computer, and the animal crossing leaf that consisted of his entire wardrobe into a Sobey's bag. They turned back to the camera, making the scratch match on his face, the graze wound on his arm, and the disintegrated nature of this tuxedo obvious. "Good news, folks, the Belgian Mafia, the Zumba Cartels, and the Nunavut RCMP have teamed up to take down your favourite diddlemeiser! We're going to cut to commercial now!"

Buster Manwomb screams "Come and get me you fully clothed chucklecunts!" before you hear the sound of gunfire, some kind of electrically-based explosion, and a whoopee cushion before the screen cuts over to Columbo again.

"Hello again, folks, it's me, Hatsune Miku!" Columbo said, switching between Fortnite Dances every few seconds. "This is your reminder that GoFundMe is now the most common provider of health insurance in the United States, and if that doesn't make you want to burn the establishment, you're part of the problem!"