La Jolla, California
[The once-affluent hills of La Jolla were taken over by refugees after the retreat westward. Mansions and estates become the sites of large communes. Topiary gardens were uprooted to make way for vegetable gardens and goat pens. Those days are over as well, and the middle class has reclaimed the mansions of La Jolla.
Marvin F. Hinton is one member of the new middle class. He was a military heavy weapons expert, but his new life finds him exploring his culinary passions as a restaurateur. In fact, he and his life partner Stanley have been so successful at their San Diego bistro, Roadblock's Guardhouse, that they are in talks to offer franchise options. Hinton has a flair for showmanship and he takes his promotion to such a degree that he speaks constantly in rhyme.]
When the whole darn world go to hell,
You can just forget don't ask, don't tell.
Get down and dirty and contextual,
The army still need every homosexual.
Was it difficult to be openly gay in the military?
Everybody knew they just pretendin',
No time to worry when we all defendin'.
Shipwreck's closet was still locked tight,
So he was always lookin' to pick a fight.
I just wanna make one thing clear,
I'm sick of talkin' 'bout bein' queer.
I fought in nearly every battle,
From West Baltimore to Seattle.
Fair enough, tell me about your combat experiences.
I was cookin' up conchs in Key West,
When Cobra showed up like a pest.
I hurried to the front to do my part,
But the Army already lost its heart.
C-Brains runnin' amok in the city,
And the whole thing lookin' shitty.
Some marines gave me a lift out,
To form up for the second bout.
We hit them back hard in Dakota,
Things didn't go like they was supposed ta.
I saw a truck burn full of our guys,
And I saw the last stand of Snake Eyes.
They say he was a ghost in New York,
After that one I say stick us with a fork.
Then we ran all the way out west,
Hopin' to endure that final test.
Cobra was throwin' everything they had,
Some days things was lookin' pretty bad.
Cobra sendin' in attack after attack,
We hold the line till we can strike back.
The day did come and none too soon,
That first night there was a big full moon.
It lit the way for our first big move,
And we struck out with somethin' to prove.
We hit them with every damn gun,
Hit so hard they went on the run.
We chased them across the whole map,
Didn't give them the time to take a nap.
Finally we made it back to the Manhattan,
Flint gave a speech to rival Patton.
We loaded our guns and revved our tanks,
Put our hands together and gave god thanks.
The fighting through the streets was brutal,
But Cobra's resistance was utterly futile.
We were men of destiny on a glorious mission,
Ready to overcome no matter the opposition.
When we heard about Cobra Commander,
We were ridin' high like the Great Alexander.
It would have been great to see him die,
But claimin' disappointment would be a lie.
The very next day we lost Old Bill,
He didn't even stand on Capitol Hill.
Duke took over with some fightin' still hot,
But that sentence was just waitin' for a dot.
The world was crazy with what Cobra done,
I can't imagine how the whole world be run.
Lady Liberty got a cobra for a head,
Half of America wound up dead.
There was crazy lasers in the road,
And snake bombs that didn't explode.
Half-snake men with Dracula fangs,
And Cobra troops formin' street gangs.
People say man or innocence lost the war,
But I think those kinda answers are poor.
The suffering of people in comparison pales,
To the suffering caused to the humpback whales.
If this world was good and truly did rock,
Then a time journey would bring us Spock.
To set things straight and make things well,
'cause tha whole damn ocean went to hell.
Your lair. Maybe you lure victims to it, maybe you hide in it between killings, or maybe you haunt it 24/7 because you’re tragically confined by a curse. Whatever the situation, for most of us monsters, a living/un-living space is an important part of our identities. In this column, Monstergeddon award winners share their lair tips and techniques!
Works great on my child, who hasn't barked at all for as long as she's worn the apparatus. When she turns three, we will remove it for a trial period.
The famed gonzo otaku journalist writes about the death of gaming culture in 2014.
Try not to break your console while I try not to break my cyber brain.
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