Chapter 21

“Yup, this looks like the place,” said Spiderman. He and Wolverine were standing out in front of a run-down building in the industrial sector of Vancouver, Washington. On the front the building was a large, decaying sign with a picture of a smiling cartoon cat, underlined by bouncy letters saying “The Tasty Feline Cat Food Company.”
“It sure is spooky looking,” commented Wolverine. Spiderman nodded his head and shrugged,
“Yeah, but you heard what Left Eye said, this is where Mr. Crazy’s been hiding.”
“Yeah, I know,” sighed Wolverine sadly. “I’m just…I guess I’m just worried that Mr. Crazy is gonna blow you in half like he did to Jerry Seinfeld.”
“Hey, Wolverine…buddy…dude… it’ll be alright. I mean, now that we know his tricks, we stand a pretty good chance of holding our own against him. And if my calculations are correct, these mirrored jackets I made will reflect those explosive NBA logos right back at his fat face,” giggled Spiderman, tapping on his mirrored jacket.
“Yeah…and they do look pretty cool, too,” acknowledged Wolverine. “Okay, I’m ready to do this.” The heroes each took a few deep breaths, and then they broke a window and climbed into the abandoned cat food factory.
“Ooh, it sure is dark in here,” whispered Wolverine.
“Yeah, I’m getting an eerie vibe,” replied Spiderman. The heroes slowly stalked around the interior of the scary building, walking between stacked boxes of old cat food and conveyer belts. They were both really nervous and on-edge because they had smoked a bunch of weed before they came to investigate Left Eye’s tip about Mr. Crazy.
“Man, I am so paranoid,” rasped Spiderman, “maybe we shouldn’t have smoked all of that weed,”
“Hey, shh!” shushed Wolverine, “I think I heard something.”
“What did you hear?” asked a severely freaked out Spiderman.
“It sounded like something moving around,” replied Wolverine, “and it’s coming from over there in that dark corner!”
“Ah!” yelped Spiderman, “I hope it’s not Mr. Crazy.”
“There only one way to find out,” moaned Wolverine. The two heroes slowly began to creep towards the source of the mysterious noise Wolverine had heard. As they edged closer and closer to an unusually dark area in the factory, their hearts started going thumpa-thump thump. Everything was really tense.
”Reeeooowww!” growled a feral cat as it jumped out from the shadows, causing Spiderman and Wolverine to jump back in shock and scream. They stood there frozen in really spooked-out, leaning back positions as the cat shot between them and ran off to do other things. After they stood like that for a few seconds then they turned their heads to look at each other and then they made eye contact and then they started cracking up.
“Oh, man, I can’t believe it was just a cat!” laughed Wolverine.
“I know,” snorted Wolverine “It scared me half to death!” The two heroes continued to laugh at the wacky situation for a bit, and they were beginning to feel at ease.
“Wa-ha!” echoed a mysterious voice throughout the cat food factory, instantly silencing Spiderman and Wolverine’s chucklefest.
“W-what was that?” stuttered Wolverine.
“It was me...” answered the voice, “…Mr. Crazy!”
“Mr. Crazy!” exclaimed Spiderman. “Where are you hiding, you big smelly slutfucker?”
“Wa-ha!” laughed Mr. Crazy. “That’s for me to know and you to find out!”
“Mr. Crazy, you’re the worst kind of criminal,” shouted Wolverine, “The crazy kind!”
“Wa-ha!” cackled Mr. Crazy. “I love watching you squirm, Spiderface and Submarine…in fact, the only thing I love more than watching you squirm…is watching your friend Nigger Jim squirm!” With those words, a spotlight flashed on, illuminating a large conveyer belt. Tied to this conveyer belt, of course, was a very nervous-looking Nigger Jim.
“Jim!” shouted Spiderman, stepping towards the conveyer belt. “Hold on buddy, we’re gonna come get you off of there!”
“No, m-m-massa! S-stays away! It beez a trap!” stammered the profusely-sweating Negroid.
“Wa-ha!” rang Mr. Crazy’s voice once again. “I’m afraid he’s correct, gentlemen! You see, Nigger Jim’s whole body is coated in sticky honey, so if you touch him, you’ll get stuck and then I’ll kill you! But if you don’t…” as Mr. Crazy’s voice trailed off, the conveyer belt to which Nigger Jim was attached to jolted to life and began to move.
“If yous don’t beez getting’ me offa this heeya conveyance belt, I’sa gonna beez turned into summa dem cat foods!” Another spotlight appeared, illuminating a large machine on the end of Nigger Jim’s conveyer belt. On the side, in large yellow letters, it read: “DANGER: THIS IS A MEAT GRINDER. IF YOU GO INTO THIS MACHINE, YOU WILL BE TURNED INTO CAT FOOD.” The meat grinder began to chug and whir, and some blades and saws and shit in its mouth started spinning around really fast.
“That’s a meat grinder!” gasped Spiderman, “If Nigger Jim goes into that machine, he’ll surely be turned into cat food!”
“Oh my, what are we gonna do?” queried Wolverine.
“You’re going to die!” screamed Mr. Crazy, whose voice now came from directly behind our heroes. They quickly turned around to find Mr. Crazy with his arms sticking out in the air, his officially licensed NBA jacket glowing with magic power.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Spiderman and Wolverine in unison. They didn’t have to get out of the way before an explosive NBA logo came flying from each of Mr. Crazy’s hands. The logos zipped through the air, striking the costumed freaks. Luckily, they were wearing their mirrored jackets and the NBA logos instantly bounced off and went flying off in radical new directions. The NBA logo that was reflected off of Spiderman’s jacket went crashing into the spotlights that illuminated Nigger Jim’s predicament and blewg them to bits. Jim instantly began to scream in a really panicked, high pitched voice because he is really afraid of the dark. The logo that hit Wolverine’s mirrored jacket bounced off the area right over his heart and went crashing a window. The NBA logo continued to fly off up into the sky, and then it flew into space.
2 million years in the future that same NBA logo approached a large purple planet very, very far away from our own. It zipped into the atmosphere and went hurdling towards the surface of the planet. At that same moment two crazy aliens who looked like bugs were sitting around on a rowboat, fishing in a lake of liquid nitrogen. It was really quite ironic that for bait they used these little things that coincidentally looked like people made of string. Well anyway, the bug aliens were sitting around in the boat and everything was really peaceful and calm until from out of the sky they heard the sound that something makes when it is falling out of the sky.
The aliens watched in disbelief as a ball of fire descended from the clouds and crashed right into the middle of their boat! The impact made a large, metallic thump as it hit, leaving the aliens totally stunned. As they regained their composure, they leaned over the mysterious smoking object which had made a huge dent in the bottom of their boat.
“Sbbuts luap?” asked one of the aliens, who looked like a praying mantis. Translated, this means “What do you think it is?”
“Sdnah ruoy hsaw esaelp,” replied the other alien, who looked like a bee. In his crazy alien dialect, this means “I don’t know…we should probably turn it over to the government.” That’s exactly what the bug aliens did. The object which they were looking at, of course, was the explosive NBA logo that Mr. Crazy had shot out of his hand eons before. The logo became an incredible mystery to the alien civilization. They analyzed it for years, gleaning little bits of information here and there but never coming close to understanding its significance.
One day, they were conducting an experiment with the NBA logo which ironically involved an alien who looked like a ladybug version of Jerry Seinfeld. They were rubbing the logo up and down on its wing casings, measuring any sort of electromagnetic reaction it created in the ladybug’s body. Without warning, the logo exploded, ironically blowing the Jerry Seinfeld ladybug in half.
Back on Earth, and in present times, Mr. Crazy had just watched his NBA logos bounce off of Spiderman and Wolverine like a Shaq 3-pointer bouncing out of bounds after it misses the hoop by several feet.
“Whaaaat?” he shouted in surprise. “That’s bullshit!”
“Aaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaah!” screamed Nigger Jim, slowly heading towards the meat grinder on his conveyer belt of death.
“Now you’re the one who’s gonna die, Mr. Crazy!” shouted Spiderman. He wound up his fist and charged at the villain with superhuman speed. Mr. Crazy, in turn began doing the exact same thing. He and Spiderman then punched each other in the face and knocked each other backwards like 50 feet, each landing on piles cat food cans.
Wolverine ran over to the stunned Mr. Crazy and started slapping him silly. Then he remembered that he had claws in his arms so he popped those out. Wolverine raised his fist over his head and pointed the claws right at Mr. Crazy’s face, preparing to stab him in the brain.
“Welcome to Hotlanta, bitch!” he growled. Just as he was going to smash his claws into Mr. Crazy head, there was a loud gun blast and Wolverine froze up, his eyes wide open with surprise. After a tense moment, Wolverine’s frame collapsed into a puddle of cat piss that was next to Mr. Crazy.
Mr. Crazy just stared with wonderment at the incapacitated superhero for a few seconds, and then he turned his head up to see a shadowy figure standing in front of him.
“Rudolph Giuliani?” gasped Mr. Crazy. The mysterious man who had saved the villain stepped forward, revealing himself to indeed be Rudolph William Louis Giuliani III, the former mayor of New York. He was wearing big, cool sunglasses and holding a pump-action shotgun.
“Yes,” laughed Rudolph Giuliani. “I heard you were having a little trouble with Wolverine, so I decided to drop in and shoot him in the spine.”
“Rudy! Rudy! Rudy!” chanted Mr. Crazy. “Rudy! I…I had no idea you were so…eeevil!”
“Baby,” smiled Rudy, “I’m the most evilest guy you’ve ever met.”
“Rudy Giuliani…” smiled Mr. Crazy, a tear rolling down his left cheek, “You’re my hero! Penis!”
“Oh God, don’t remind me,” groaned Rudolph Giuliani. “Well, Mr. Crazy, I think we should get out of here before the cops come and shoot us a bunch.”
“I like the way you think!” laughed Mr. Crazy, and with that, they took each other’s hands and walked off to parts unknown.
Throughout this whole conversation, Spiderman was lying on the opposite side of the factory, unconscious in a pile of “Meat & Goo” flavor cat food cans. Though Spiderman is one tough jerk, the blow from Mr. Crazy’s fist had sent him off into sleepy town.
“Hello?” said Spiderman, wandering through a thick white mist in his wacky dreamland. “Is anybody there?”
“Yes,” answered a mysterious booming voice that seemed to emanate ate from all directions at once.
“W-who are you?” asked Spiderman, shaking in his spider-boots.
“It is I…Jerry Seinfeld!” said Jerry Seinfeld, emerging from this mist with open arms.
“Jerry!” squealed Spiderman, hugging his deceased friend and compatriot. “Is it…is it really you?”
“Yes, yes it is! Just what, is the deal, with that?”
“Oh, Jerry! It’s been so hard without you but now you’re here and -”
“Spiderman! I’m afraid I don’t have time to just sit around and shoot the shit. I’ve come to bring you a message…and that message is…wake up, sleepyhead, wake uuuuuup! Wake uuuuup!” Jerry faded back off into the mist, and Spiderman began to run after him. Of course Jerry was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the misty floor fell out from under him, and Spiderman just started falling into blackness. Jerry’s voice continued to ring in his ears, moaning, “Wake uuuuup! Wake up, Spiderman! Nigger Jim needs your help! WAKE UP!” Just then, he woke up.
As Spiderman began regain his senses, his brain started pounding like he had drank a whole case of Hard A.
“Oh, my achin’ head!” groaned Spiderman. He slowly began to rise to his feet, stretching out and cracking his back as he went. “Ay yay yay! Where am I?” mumbled Spiderman as he continued to shift back to reality. He became aware of the sound of whirring machinery, and his brain instantly snapped back into action. “Oh yeah, I’m in the abandoned cat food factory!”
“Aaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” screamed Nigger Jim as he came within mere feet of going into the grinder.
“Jim! Oh shit, I forgot all about him! Hold on buddy, I’m comin’ to save ya!” Spiderman quickly ran over to the conveyer belt which Nigger Jim was still tied to, stumbling over a box as he went.
“Oh, massa, is I eva glad to see yous!” wept Nigger Jim, “Save muh, Spidermans, save muh!”
“Okay, can do!” said Spiderman enthusiastically. He went to untie the ropes which held Nigger Jim down, but his left hand instantly became affixed to the knot. “Crap! I forgot all about the sticky honey.”
“Lawda mercy, Spidermans, if you don’t beez stoppin’ this heeya meat grinders, we’sa boaf’a gonna die!
“Crap,” mumbled Spiderman to himself, “I need to find a way out of this sticky situation…and fast! C’mon, think Spiderman, think.” He sat there in deep thought for a few seconds as he and Jim were pulled closer and closer to the meat grinder. Finally, he exclaimed, “I’ve got it! Hey Nigger Jim: watch this.”
Using his free hand, Spiderman began to shoot a blast of webbing out of his wrist and right into the spinning blades which threatened to chop him and Jim into little meaty bits. As the webbing hit the whirling steel, it was blown apart into a million white chunks that went flying all over the place.
“Aaaaaah!” screamed Jim, the bits webbing getting all over his hair, face, and clothes. “What it is yous be doin’, cracka?”
“Bear with me here, NJ! I’m going to clog up this meat grinding machine with my sticky, icky webs!” He continued to zip a steady stream of web fluid right into the heart of the grinder as globs of the stuff flew out and covered everything in the immediate area.
“I think it’s working!” yelled Spiderman as the meat grinder began to thump and whine, indicating some sort of internal trauma.
“You jes’ keepa blastin’ dem webstas, suh!” encouraged Nigger Jim, though Spiderman needed no prodding to drain out as much of his webbing as he could. As Jim’s head drew within a couple feet of the blades, Spiderman’s webs finally began to take hold, twirling up inside the machine and causing it to make some really horrible grinding noises.
“The blades are still going too fast!” shouted the webbed demon. “My webs just aren’t sticky enough!”
“Aw lawdy! Aw lawdy doodly doo!” wailed Nigger Jim, sure that his death was imminent. The air filled with the smell of burning grease as Spiderman maintained his furious web blast, watching his spider silk get sucked into grinder like a moray eel being sucked into a giant vagina. Time seemed to slow down as Nigger Jim rolled closer and closer to the whirling mess of metal and webs, the breeze from the contraption wisping across his face like the caress of an angel. As the situation drew to a climax, Spiderman closed his eyes, afraid to see what would happen next. Suddenly, he heard the machine sputter and grind to a halt with a horrible crash. The meat grinder groaned for a few seconds, and then it let out a big hiss, indicating that it was out of commission. Spiderman was still too afraid to open his eyes until he heard the screams of Nigger Jim once again.
“Ahhhhh! Aaaaaahhhh!” Spiderman looked down to see that the blades had stopped just in time, nearing close to enough to Nigger Jim’s head to chop his hair into a perfect flattop. “Aaaaaaaahhhhh! Aaaaaaaaah!” continued to howl Jim.
“Jim! Why are you still screaming?!?”
“Buh-buh-because, massa, I b-beez d-dead! Aw lawdy…aaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaah!
“Jim! Snapped out of it!” barked Spiderman, slapping Jim with his right hand, which instantly became stuck to his face. Nigger Jim quickly came back to his senses, although it took him and Spiderman about another 10 minutes to get unstuck from each other. As Spiderman wiped off his hands with a dish towel, he suddenly realized that he had totally forgotten about Wolverine.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Spiderman, “What happened to Wolverine?”
“Gee, suh, I reckon ah doan’ have de fain’ess,” replied Jim, scratching his head.
“Well, shit, let’s find him!” It didn’t take long for the two to discover Wolverine still laying facedown with a gaping hole in his lower back.
“Aw Jeeeeezus, he dead!” moaned Nigger Jim.
“Maybe…there’s only one way to find out…touch him.”
“I’z doan’ wanna touch ‘ims! Yous touch ‘ims!”
“Well I don’t want to touch either!” retorted Spiderman. He and Nigger Jim exchanged a few moments of direct eye contact.
“Lawda mercy…” sighed Jim, “Aight, I’za gonna touch ‘ims.” He tentatively leaned in toward Wovlerine, a whiff of cat piss filling his nostrils. He stuck out his dark brown hand and slowly inched it towards Wolverine. However, before he could actually make contact, Wolverine sprang to life and shouted,
“Ohmyachinback!” Both Spiderman and Nigger Jim were extremely startled. In fact, Jim had a small heart attack. Spiderman instinctually grabbed a nearby cooler and was about to bash Wolverine on the head with it until nigger Jim pulled out a pistol and discharged about 5 rounds into Wolverine’s body, shouting,
“Die, ya derrty sum bitch!”
“Arrrrrgh,” groaned Wolverine, rolling onto his side, “Son of a fucking fuck!”
“Oh, Wolverine!” yelped Spiderman, setting down the cooler. “I thought you were dead! Are you okay?”
“Ugh, yeah, I’ll be alright,” he replied, “But I think I just set a record for most times I’ve ever been shot in one day.” All three of the men had a nice hearty laugh at that one.
“If I do sez so myselves,” smiled Nigger Jim, “Wolverines is de craziest peoples!”