So, it's been nearly six months since dear old White Plastic Pig left me to journey around the world and meet various I-Mockers and other people I'd gotten to know online. Pig's ride went rather smooth: from the Netherlands, he made it to England. From England to Sweden. From Sweden to the American east coast, Florida. Things started to get a little quiet as Pig passed through Georgia and Alabama. At one point, I lost contact with him. Weeks passed... Months passed. It was beginning to think Pig's Big Adventure had been brutally cut short. What happened? Was he recruited by the CIA to assassinate
"Dear FatSatan. Today I was finally released from the hospital. As you may or may not know, I was fed some bacon by Blackjack during my stay in the England. Now, I thought 'bacon' was just some quirky British slang for lettuce or something. So one night I'm talking to this tourist from London at a bar and slip it into the conversation - he tells me I've been eating actual freakin' bacon! I become so ill I turn all green and can't stop puking. Before long, I'm spending the next few months getting my bowels flushed at the hospital, with nothing to do other than gorge myself on green Jell-O. I must've gained like twenty pounds! I'm almost starting to look like one of those crazy Pig Pong pigs! Anyway, today I finally felt ready to make my way over to Richmond, Virginia and meet -RoG-, the webmaster of I-Mockery.com. But of course things had to go wrong again..."
"I'm barely on my way, when I'm suddenly ambushed by Cobra Vipers. They literally come out of nowhere. I haven't a chance against these guys."
"So they chain me up and start marching me off to their stronghold. I'm thinking 'what the hell do they want from me?' when suddenly, one of them starts going off on a religious speech about how my capture will 'grant their master omnipotence.'"
"Sure enough, these psychos have taken to worshipping the Boglin, Vlobb. They mean to deliver me to their fortress and feed me to the Vlobb godhead. And I'm all chained up, I can't do anything about it."
"Luckily, a few yards away, Roadblock is practicing on being a big badass. With his eagle-eye vision, he spots our little procession and decides to do something about my precarious predicament."
"With his usual subtlety, Roadblock loads up his favorite bazooka and launches a semi-nuclear missile into our midst."
"Fortune smiles upon me though, as years of drinking lead paint in college (it was the only cheap thrill I could afford) pay off. My skin deflects the harmful radiation while the two Cobra Vipers writhe in agony, first losing teeth and hair, and finally motor control."
"Roadblock understands I have little time to waste, and urges me to get on with my Big Adventure while he cleans up this mess. I shrug off the broken chains and make a run for it. Perhaps I should've looked where I was going first."
"Ken Masters, Edmond Honda and Vega from Street Fighter II block my path. These misfits have turned to a life of bountyhunting, and mean to sell me to Vlobb in exchange for 500,000 dustbunnies. I'm preparing myself for the battle of a lifetime, when I hear Roadblock calling."
"He advises me to look away, and as he sneaks up on the diabolical threesome, I immediately understand why. What follows, I can only interpret from the sounds I hear."
"Before Edmond Honda can charge me, Roadblock grabs the tub of lard by his loincloth. Does he mean to take him out with a cleverly-applied judo grip?"
"Nothing so merciful. Roadblock effectively destroys Honda's dignity and renders his companions horrified and harmless, by pulling down the sumo wrestler's only article of clothing. Not even in my darkest nightmares can I imagine the torment of beholding Edmond Honda semi-naked. And not intending to change that tradition, I wait for Roadblock to hop on and race my way out of there."
"Per Roadblock's directions, we come upon a small military airport, where I'm introduced to a paratrooper known as Sergeant B. Grapehugger. Knowing that the journey to Richmond is too dangerous on foot, Roadblock books me a flight on an army plane flying over Virginia."
"The Sergeant is happy to assist me, and before you know it, we're up in the air, nearing our objective. All the while he's boring me with stories about Vietnam and Desert Storm, because they all end in '...and that's when I got mad.'"
"By the time we reach Richmond, I'm just about ready to jump out without a parachute. But I think I'll take one anyway, since it's there."
"I'm finishing up this letter, and then it's out the plane and off to -RoG-. I hope this letter doesn't get you too worried, cause I'm sure nothing that happens now could come close to the weirdness of today. Peace and love,
White Plastic Pig.
P.S. One of the engines has just caught fire and I'm trying to figure out how I'll pull the chord on my parachute without any opposable thumbs. By the way, how's life on your end?"
Roadblock: "Just a second there, kids."
Roadblock: "Now kids, I know this Big Adventure thing is all cool and gravy, but you need to understand this: You can no longer sign up to receive White Plastic Pig in the mail. Do not e-mail FatSatan or anyone else on I-Mockery.com to ask if you can receive White Plastic Pig. Are we clear on that?"
Kids: "Clear as glass, Roadblock! Do we still have to steal money from our parents so you won't break our thumbs?"
Roadblock: "I can't believe you still need to ask me that. Now pay up."
Kids: "Now we know!"
Roadblock: "And knowing is half the battle!"
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