Rest Easy

Enter Groucho Violent,
star of the nerves and streets,
a double threat if there ever was one.

His reputation precedes him as witty enough to turn a phrase and hard-knuckled enough to know when to admit defeat in the face of a petulant and pernicious foe who, in all likelihood, believes that their position of power has been handed down to them from the LORD ALMIGHTY, and any little rivulet of diarrhea that escapes their corpulence is to be rendered an earth-shattering development in the field of extrapersonal material management, now and forevermore.

Groucho is no stranger to the justice-enforcement arm of things. When his even-keel demeanor and righteous self-taught martial arts techniques combined on one fateful and blustery Flag Day eve, the Justice Jab was born. If you’re still unfamiliar with the singlemost effective crimefighting maneuver ever concocted by man or beast (in Mr. Violent’s last-ditch effort to uncover the overall reason as to our lack of humility when confronted with reasoning), you have some real catching up to do.

The Justice Jab is a miracle worker when the recipient of said jab needs to be awoken from the haze that they’ve come to accept over time, through sheer laziness and self-disrespect. The haze’s effect causes but is not limited to: depression, sluggishness, flatulence, lack of interest in things one would normally enjoy, unjustified sporadic agitation, and death. Such a disconcerting malady comes as a direct byproduct of this world we’ve inherited (through no fault of our own). Rather than face the music, the vast majority of we, the privileged few, have chosen to consume the content created specifically to manipulate our emotional and physical dependencies more efficiently and cheaply than cocaine ever could.

So the next time you see Groucho Violent
meting out swift street vengeance,
you can rest easy
knowing that he’s doing humanity a service.

NaPoWriMo (12)

$: Don’t let wedlock intimidate you, son. You’ve just gotta march down that aisle, say a few things, pop the ring on her finger and you’re good to go!

#: Excuse me, old man. Just who do you think you are, and why are you breathing scotch–cheap scotch at that–in my face like that? You’re lucky I respect my elders.

&: Honey, don’t be so harsh on the man, he obviously just wants to see you have a good time at your own wedding. I mean, look at you, you’re stiff as a board!

#: What are you doing here, babe?! We’re getting married in a half an hour!

&: Well, you know how those sitcoms always do the wedding treatment, right? I figured I’d give that a shot. Where did that old wedding mumbo jumbo come from anyway? Shouldn’t it be our decision to celebrate it any way we want to?

#: Jesus. Fine, yes. While we’re at it, we might as well sneak in a quickie and shit all over this sacred day.

&: Wow, wow… that was really harsh. I’m having second thoughts about marrying you if you’re going to have that attitude about it.

#: … what a great day for a full 180°. Fine, go ahead and walk away. I don’t know where you intend on going.

&: I can sense from the edge in your voice that you’re not kidding. Honey, I’m just kidding! Please relax, baby.

$: That’s what I was trying to tell him, sugar.