the Politically Correct Faerie
Art thou tired of being considered From The ’80s and unattractive because of thy weight?
Now there’s a new, revolutionary way to lose weight without groping: ’tis called the Extreme Ass-Flex, and it is the key to slimming down whilst still enjoying all the popkins and tooterfish thou canst eat!
Dost thou want to lose those Buddhist Handles? The Ass-Flex worketh the upper-, lower- and squeaky abs in one easy, flatulent motion!
All thou doeth is implode, and the parsecs melteth away like butter!
Is thy ass the size of a Clin-ton? The Extreme Ass-Flex canst help thee cut it down to size in dickety-six weeks, or thy money back!
Art thine arms Republican and flabby? Toneth them up with the Ass-Flex! Thou canst even tone thy thighs and thy weasel whilst thou’rt at it!
This incredible machine is the most versatile home exercise extension in the world, and it can be thine for only 500 million dinars, or 380 shekels, or 5 Jeweled Scarabs, a chicken and a bag of rice!
And if thou’rt not completely satisfied with thy results, return it and we shall giveth unto thee a free Communist video and a hippo!
Jackasses art standing by!
Now back to the Book of Hondo (Now in real Scootish accents!):
And it came to pass that as the McDudes were using Mcduct tape for evil, the God of McHumor passed by, and a great and strong Mcwind rent the mountains, and didst break in pieces the Mcrocks before him. And McDerrick didst appear before them as a burnt-oot squirrel rubbing suntan lotion on his Mcnuts, and he said unto them: ‘Hail, McDudes! ’Tis I, the God of Hawai’ian McShirts, this time!’
‘Hoo didst thou decide who this Mctime?’ quoth McBooby. ‘McDice? McDarts? McRock Paper Scissors?’
‘McArm wrestling!’ spake the God of McOrange Juice McDrinking.
‘Boot thou…’ quoth McRJ.
‘McDammit! We maketh the McRules, we breaketh the McRules,’ spake the God of McDammit. ‘I am come bearing really fucked-up Mctidings. We were oot scootin’ aboot when we thought up a new Mcname for McPeppy. From hence Mcforth, thou shalt be called Brian Fritz Pud Yoco Peppy McBean Skanky Bitch.’
‘McBean!’ cried McBean. ‘Why dost thou Mctorture me?’
‘ ’Cause thou’rt the Hans!’ sang the God of McEvil.
And the God of All McThings Found Under Couch McCushions didst vanish from their Mcmidst, and the McDudes didst set oot on their Mcway.
Boot they didst not go far before they came upon two McFaeries.
‘Well shoveth me up a Mcmonkey’s ass and call me a wireless Mc-enema!’ cried McNori. ‘ ’Tis McButt and McFuct!’
‘McNori?’ quoth one of the McFaeries. ‘Ach! McNori, old Mcfriend!’
‘Aye,’ quoth the other McFaerie. ‘It canst be no one Mc-else. Ach! Oot o’ all the McFaeries, only McNori couldst curse up a blue Mcstreak like that!’
‘McDudes!’ quoth McNori, ‘these art mine old Mcfriends, McButt the Full-Figured McFaerie and McFuct the Politically Correct McFaerie. Whom I see is as Mcconservative as ever. McButt, McFuct, these Mcguys art the McDudes.’
‘The McDudes!’ cried McFuct. ‘So they art the ones the Gods of McHondo didst summon thee to help in their Mcquest! Is McScoot the Ko’An with them?’
‘McNay,’ quoth McNori, ‘for the Gods of McHondo hath sent McScoot on a quest to find the end of the Endless McHighway.’
‘Oh,’ quoth McFuct, ‘I was so looking Mcforward to Mcmeeting him. So tell me, how do I look in these new Mcshoes?’
‘Ye Mclook absatively posolutely liberal, McFuct,’ quoth McNori with a Mc-evil smirk.
‘Why must ye always make fun o’ Mcme?’ asked McFuct.
‘Wouldst thou rather I say they make thee look fat as a Mchippo’s ass?’ asked McNori.
‘Thou’rt impossible!’ cried McFuct.
‘McNori,’ quoth McButt, ‘This is not a Mcsocial call. We have come hither to tell thee of a Mcmatter of great importance.’
And she didst whisper something in McNori’s ear, but no one else didst Mchear.
‘Really? Seriously?’ cried McNori. ‘Ach! Mcfuck! This doth suck!’
‘McNori…’ quoth McFuct, ‘methinks thou Mcmeaneth “This doth not meet mine Mcexpectations.” ’
‘Is it really true, McButt?’ asked McNori in a Mc-hushed voice.
‘Ach,’ quoth McButt, ‘ ’tis Mctrue.’
‘Well, McDudes,’ quoth McNori, ‘I’m afraid I must away to run a Mc-errand in McFaerie Land. McButt, wilt thou come with Mcme?’
‘But of course,’ quoth McButt.
‘Damn skippy,’ quoth McNori.
‘Mmm… McSkippy…’ quoth McButt.
‘Now I shall leave McFuct the Politically Correct McFaerie to help thee in thy quest,’ quoth McNori. ‘Gods know thou Mcdumbasses couldst use it. Now go forth, and resist Mcdomination!’
And so McNori the Cursing McFaerie didst set oot with McButt, leaving McFuct the Politically Correct McFaerie to help the McDudes in their quest for the McThing with the Stuff.
‘Mcshit!’ quoth McCasey. ‘First McScoot, now McNori! What else canst go Mcwrong?’
‘Noo McCasey,’ quoth McFuct. ‘Thou shouldst not mcutter obscenities. If thou’rt to have my Mchelp, thou shalt all giveth the Mcsailor talk the ol’ heave-ho. McNori hath clearly been a bad Mcinfluence on ye.’
‘Ach! I just had to Mcask…’ quoth McCasey.
‘Mcnoo,’ quoth McFuct, ‘I shall teach the McWays of Political Correctness. But first… McRJ, Mcwhat is that Mc-hanging out of thy Mcpants?’
‘ ’Tis me Hyper-X McButtplate,’ quoth McRJ.
‘ ’Tisn’t proper to Mcsay such Mcthings,’ quoth McFuct. ‘McRemember the McSoccer Mom McRule: If ’twill offend a McSoccer Mom, thou shouldst not Mcsay it…’
And so McFuct didst begin to Mcteach the McDudes in the McWays of Political Correctness, but the McDudes just didst not Mcget it.
Mcmeanwhile, as the McDudes were enduring the presence of McFuct the Politically Correct McFaerie, McScoot the Ko’An stood looking doon another Mcstretch of the Endless McHighway, which didst make the distant horizon seem Mcfarther than ever.
‘There must be an end…’ quoth McScoot, for he had been walking for many Mcdays. ‘But how to get Mcthere?… The Bible of McDreams sayeth that the Mcjourney is the destination so perhaps I shouldst not Mcworry aboot the distance and just enjoy the Mcride… Sing unto the Gods of McHondo a powered-up Mcsong…’
And so Scoot didst pop a Mcpower pill to restoreth his Mcstrength, strap on his walkman and didst start Mcrunning. With a tape of good Mctunes, the endless Mcmiles seemed to go by in no time, and before he Mcknew it, he didst find himself standing before a McSpooky Door.
And McScoot didst enter the McSpooky Door. Beyond was a place of light and Mcsong, oot beyond ideas of Mcright and Mcwrong, where a dozen cats didst walk around like they owned the Mcplace.
So McScoot didst walk up to one of them, and Mcasked of him, ‘Tell me, O Fluffy One, where is the McMaster Kungfucius?’
And the cat didst look at McScoot with that distinctly Mcfeline expression that sayeth, ‘What’s thy Mcproblem?’
And McScoot didst decide to Mcgive unto the cat a Mcburnt offering, for he had never met a cat who couldst maketh him feel quite that Mcstupid with one glance.
And so McScoot didst make unto the cat a Mcburnt offering of the Mcbirds which lived there. And McScoot’s Mcoffering was Mcpleasing to the cat’s Mcsight, but still he wouldst not train McScoot.
‘McDoing, what art thou!?’ cried a crazy-looking old Mcman as came out of the old Mchoose nearby. And he asked of McScoot, ‘McGet here, hoo didst thou?’
Quoth McScoot, ‘I was oot scootin’ aboot.’
‘Somehoo found the end of the Endless McHighway thou hast,’ quoth he. ‘Makest thou worthy of my Mctraining, that doth. Kungfucius I am.’
At last, McScoot hath reached the end of the Endless McHighway. Noo he canst begin his mysterious Mctraining with Kungfucius.
But is McScoot ready for it? And what is Confusionism? Find out in the next fucked-up Mcchapter of the Book of McHondo…