09-28-2013, 11:30 PM
Tri Bute: Our Lord, Our Great King: A Biographical Future Comic
ISSUE #4 (Part 4)
The Future Seal: Doc Tor
Previously on ISSUE #4:
“Maybe she should 'act' her way into a future paper bag,”
“Let’s future laugh and future point at him,”
“I’m all for doing it in a different order this time.”
“I guess I’m getting that future finger addification future surgery I wanted.”
“No,”
“I need a future job.”
“Aren’t you a little young to future dance exotically?”
S.P.U.N.K. and the J.I.Z.Z. oozed out of Tri Bute
“He gave a great future lap dance.”
“I’d future point and future laugh at him, but, I’m just kind of glad he has done it.”
“Here girl! Ow!”
It seemed the Swank Incident once again sailed into the future bunker like a future grenade.
Watch out for that future tree!
BOOM! CRASH! BOOM! SLAM! CRASH! RACRUSH! FUTURE EXPLOSION!
---
“We’re running out of future time!”
“Pass me the future forceps!”
“What’s the future 411 on this future mess?” shouts Dr. Lth.
BEEP!
“It’s that famous future stripper, Tri Bute.”
“He’s the first male future dancer Cam’s Pusshouse ever had, right?”
“I didn’t realize I was doing future surgery on a future celebrity!”
BEEP!
“You’re the best future man for the future job. They don’t call you ‘Steady Future Hands’ for nothing, Dr. Tor!”
“Well, what happened?”
“He crashed his future car into a future tree. It was only a few future blocks away. The future explosion was huge.”
BEEP!
“Did anyone die?”
“Um, future explosions don’t hurt people.”
“It didn’t hurt, but we have to reattach his future arm. I’m still waiting on those future forceps. For someone who knows we’re running out of future time you sure are slow.”
BEEP!
“My bad, Dr. Tor!”
“That’s a future hammer! Idiot! We are running out of future time!”
“We are missing the future forceps! What do we do now?”
The future heart beat future monitor beeped once again while ‘Steady Future Hands’ looked down at the unconscious left future armless pretty much adult. If only he knew what to do. If he had some future forceps it’d be a future cut and future paste future job.
“Doc, if we don’t get this future arm on now he might future bleed out.”
BEEP!
“It’s been a long future time since anyone future bled out.”
That’s when ‘Steady Future Hands’ got a future idea.
“Pass me a roll of future duct tape, eight future paper clips, a number two future pencil and a future copy of the future book "200 Future Shades of Future Gray"!”
Dr. Tor and his steady future hands got to future work on Tri Bute’s missing future limb problem.
“I heard that Tri Bute got into a future car future accident.”
“Is he alright?”
“Who cares? Let’s future point and future laugh at him!”
“Maybe if he didn’t fail out of future school he would have future learned to watch where he’s going!”
The sound of future laughter stirred Tri Bute in his future state of unconsciousness. He hated when people future laughed at him. It didn’t matter how far away they were, whether they stood across the future hall, across the future street, or while he was giving a future lap dance, it future cut into him like a future knife on his future wrists. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would draw future blood, but it was future scaring.
“I’m going to need a few future rubber bands!”
Doc Tor put the last finishing touches in place, making sure each future rubber band was secured, every future paper clip was in place, and that the future arm moved without falling off. With the future snap of his future fingers Doc Tor woke up Tri Bute from his deep future sleep.
“There you go all patched up good as new!” announced Dr. Tor with a future smile.
Tri Bute was a little confused at first. He didn’t remember anything about the future accident, but when he noticed everyone wearing future scrubs he assumed he made it safe and sound.
“Thanks Doc, I’m glad I can finally do amazing things now an-,”
Tri Bute’s future hand coming into view stopped his future sentence right in its future tracks.
No, let me count again. I must have made a future mistake.
It didn’t matter how many times he counted; the future number remained the same. Five future fingers on each future hand, just like primitive people.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think he must have forgot that his future hands are ugly. He has been staring at them for awhile.”
“Perhaps we should future point and future laugh at him.”
As the future medical professionals future chuckled and future chortled, Tri Bute took a future step off of the future gurney. That’s when the future cuts struck him like a deck of future cards. The future pain began to eat away at him like Peter Glimmer at a primitive buffet. He could almost feel the future blood not pouring out him because he can’t future bleed since his future skin is so thick.
Tri Bute tried to stop the future pain. He slipped his future hands over his future ears. Tri Bute didn’t think he could be hurt by what he couldn’t future hear, but the future hospitals future employees were relentless. They future laughed really hard and really loud.
Tri Bute could only think of one way to get them to shut up. These future men were too distracted to defend themselves. With one future smack Tri Bute knocked the future chucklers off of their future feet straight into a pile of used future needles and other future hospital stuff.
I hate future pointing and future laughing, especially when it’s at me.
Tri Bute regained his composure. He attempted to gather his future thoughts, but the last thing he remembered was when Fla Bby bit him. Some future fluid leaked out of the broken future hospital stuff pile and wet Tri Bute’s future feet.
This isn’t the J.I.Z.Z. I came here for; I know that much.
---
It had grown dark as the future day passed on. I didn’t know what happened to me in that space of future time, but it must have been catastrophic. They didn’t give me future finger addification future surgery in that future hospital, but my future clothes were gone. I had future surgery of some kind. My left future arm felt different in some future way.
I future ran down the future sidewalk while my future patient’s gown blew in the future wind. I had to return to my future home; it was fundamental in retracing my future steps. When I entered the front future door I was greeted with an unfamiliar future sound.
Vio Lin swung a future bat knocking over a future lamp. The future lamp fell onto the future tiled future floor and breaks sending shards of future glass in different directions. Vio Lin looked over at Tri Bute and future laughed.
“Look what the future cat dragged in! It’s Tri Bute, my great grandson, the future stripper.”
“I quit that future job, great grandpapa and I was an exotic future dancer. It’s different.”
“You took your future clothes off; that’s future stripping.”
“Whatever, what’s with you breaking future lamps? Don’t you think we’ll need some future light in here?”
“Tri Bute, clean the broken future glass,” called Tri Bute’s great grandmother from a different future room.
Tri Bute grabbed a future broom and a future dustpan and started cleaning.
“That was just a warm-up swing, Butey. I’m a reasonable future man. I’m a future cause and future effect kind of guy. If I got to take myself and the future child I’m responsible for into the future forest for a future year, I’ll do it. If I got t-,”
“You mean, ‘If I got to take the future child I’m responsible for and myself into the future forest for a year,’” corrected Tri Bute as he swept the future floor.
Vio Lin future smiled.
“If that same future child I’m responsible for decides to crash my future car into a future tree and not even apologize, I’m not afraid to do what I have to do.”
That’s when I remembered everything. I remember the happy future thoughts. The future dreams I was about to make true. Then I remembered the future tree with its future branches. The wooden future timber piercing the future windshield shattered the future glass.
“You’re an idiot, Tri Bute. You’re reckless. You’re arrogant. You’re stupid; that’s why they kicked you out of future school. If I could teach you anything, Butey, it would be to keep your future eyes on the future road.”
The future pain, that’s something I remembered, too. It hurt. I didn’t future bleed, but it hurt.
“You were named after a great man, Tri Bute. That other Tri Bute had it all. He was always safe and he carefully planned everything! There’s a word for that; it’s methodical. He was so clever and resourceful. Those people are referred to as ingenious. He was lubricanitaryily, you could never catch that scamp. He was the most tumbilitenerary guy there ever was. They call that M.I.L.T., Tri Bute. The other Tri Bute was a M.I.L.T., and he would never crash my future car.”
Vio Lin swung the future bat at Tri Bute’s future head. Tri Bute slumped onto the future floor to dodge it, but Lin was quick with another swing striking him across the future face and knocking him backwards.
Tri Bute’s great grandfather turned around and broke another future lamp.
“Pick up this future glass, and pack up your future room. I’ll expect you out of here by next future week. Your mom should have listened to me when I told her about the future abortions, this is why we can't have nice future things, Tri Bute.”
“Feed the future seal, too! Good future night!” called Tri Bute’s great grandmother.
“I’ll be having future sex with your great grandmamma, so don’t disturb us.”
Tri Bute sat up and rubbed at his future face. It was only the second most future painful thing to happen to him that future day, but it hurt.
(OOC: At least I thought this was the last one. Okay one more. Oh, I also couldn't help joining in on all the spelling Gilmour wrong. I read it as Glimmer the first few times I saw his name. Peter Glimmer could be a product that makes your dick shiny.)
ISSUE #4 (Part 4)
The Future Seal: Doc Tor
Previously on ISSUE #4:
“Maybe she should 'act' her way into a future paper bag,”
“Let’s future laugh and future point at him,”
“I’m all for doing it in a different order this time.”
“I guess I’m getting that future finger addification future surgery I wanted.”
“No,”
“I need a future job.”
“Aren’t you a little young to future dance exotically?”
S.P.U.N.K. and the J.I.Z.Z. oozed out of Tri Bute
“He gave a great future lap dance.”
“I’d future point and future laugh at him, but, I’m just kind of glad he has done it.”
“Here girl! Ow!”
It seemed the Swank Incident once again sailed into the future bunker like a future grenade.
Watch out for that future tree!
BOOM! CRASH! BOOM! SLAM! CRASH! RACRUSH! FUTURE EXPLOSION!
---
“We’re running out of future time!”
“Pass me the future forceps!”
“What’s the future 411 on this future mess?” shouts Dr. Lth.
BEEP!
“It’s that famous future stripper, Tri Bute.”
“He’s the first male future dancer Cam’s Pusshouse ever had, right?”
“I didn’t realize I was doing future surgery on a future celebrity!”
BEEP!
“You’re the best future man for the future job. They don’t call you ‘Steady Future Hands’ for nothing, Dr. Tor!”
“Well, what happened?”
“He crashed his future car into a future tree. It was only a few future blocks away. The future explosion was huge.”
BEEP!
“Did anyone die?”
“Um, future explosions don’t hurt people.”
“It didn’t hurt, but we have to reattach his future arm. I’m still waiting on those future forceps. For someone who knows we’re running out of future time you sure are slow.”
BEEP!
“My bad, Dr. Tor!”
“That’s a future hammer! Idiot! We are running out of future time!”
“We are missing the future forceps! What do we do now?”
The future heart beat future monitor beeped once again while ‘Steady Future Hands’ looked down at the unconscious left future armless pretty much adult. If only he knew what to do. If he had some future forceps it’d be a future cut and future paste future job.
“Doc, if we don’t get this future arm on now he might future bleed out.”
BEEP!
“It’s been a long future time since anyone future bled out.”
That’s when ‘Steady Future Hands’ got a future idea.
“Pass me a roll of future duct tape, eight future paper clips, a number two future pencil and a future copy of the future book "200 Future Shades of Future Gray"!”
Dr. Tor and his steady future hands got to future work on Tri Bute’s missing future limb problem.
“I heard that Tri Bute got into a future car future accident.”
“Is he alright?”
“Who cares? Let’s future point and future laugh at him!”
“Maybe if he didn’t fail out of future school he would have future learned to watch where he’s going!”
The sound of future laughter stirred Tri Bute in his future state of unconsciousness. He hated when people future laughed at him. It didn’t matter how far away they were, whether they stood across the future hall, across the future street, or while he was giving a future lap dance, it future cut into him like a future knife on his future wrists. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would draw future blood, but it was future scaring.
“I’m going to need a few future rubber bands!”
Doc Tor put the last finishing touches in place, making sure each future rubber band was secured, every future paper clip was in place, and that the future arm moved without falling off. With the future snap of his future fingers Doc Tor woke up Tri Bute from his deep future sleep.
“There you go all patched up good as new!” announced Dr. Tor with a future smile.
Tri Bute was a little confused at first. He didn’t remember anything about the future accident, but when he noticed everyone wearing future scrubs he assumed he made it safe and sound.
“Thanks Doc, I’m glad I can finally do amazing things now an-,”
Tri Bute’s future hand coming into view stopped his future sentence right in its future tracks.
No, let me count again. I must have made a future mistake.
It didn’t matter how many times he counted; the future number remained the same. Five future fingers on each future hand, just like primitive people.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think he must have forgot that his future hands are ugly. He has been staring at them for awhile.”
“Perhaps we should future point and future laugh at him.”
As the future medical professionals future chuckled and future chortled, Tri Bute took a future step off of the future gurney. That’s when the future cuts struck him like a deck of future cards. The future pain began to eat away at him like Peter Glimmer at a primitive buffet. He could almost feel the future blood not pouring out him because he can’t future bleed since his future skin is so thick.
Tri Bute tried to stop the future pain. He slipped his future hands over his future ears. Tri Bute didn’t think he could be hurt by what he couldn’t future hear, but the future hospitals future employees were relentless. They future laughed really hard and really loud.
Tri Bute could only think of one way to get them to shut up. These future men were too distracted to defend themselves. With one future smack Tri Bute knocked the future chucklers off of their future feet straight into a pile of used future needles and other future hospital stuff.
I hate future pointing and future laughing, especially when it’s at me.
Tri Bute regained his composure. He attempted to gather his future thoughts, but the last thing he remembered was when Fla Bby bit him. Some future fluid leaked out of the broken future hospital stuff pile and wet Tri Bute’s future feet.
This isn’t the J.I.Z.Z. I came here for; I know that much.
---
It had grown dark as the future day passed on. I didn’t know what happened to me in that space of future time, but it must have been catastrophic. They didn’t give me future finger addification future surgery in that future hospital, but my future clothes were gone. I had future surgery of some kind. My left future arm felt different in some future way.
I future ran down the future sidewalk while my future patient’s gown blew in the future wind. I had to return to my future home; it was fundamental in retracing my future steps. When I entered the front future door I was greeted with an unfamiliar future sound.
Vio Lin swung a future bat knocking over a future lamp. The future lamp fell onto the future tiled future floor and breaks sending shards of future glass in different directions. Vio Lin looked over at Tri Bute and future laughed.
“Look what the future cat dragged in! It’s Tri Bute, my great grandson, the future stripper.”
“I quit that future job, great grandpapa and I was an exotic future dancer. It’s different.”
“You took your future clothes off; that’s future stripping.”
“Whatever, what’s with you breaking future lamps? Don’t you think we’ll need some future light in here?”
“Tri Bute, clean the broken future glass,” called Tri Bute’s great grandmother from a different future room.
Tri Bute grabbed a future broom and a future dustpan and started cleaning.
“That was just a warm-up swing, Butey. I’m a reasonable future man. I’m a future cause and future effect kind of guy. If I got to take myself and the future child I’m responsible for into the future forest for a future year, I’ll do it. If I got t-,”
“You mean, ‘If I got to take the future child I’m responsible for and myself into the future forest for a year,’” corrected Tri Bute as he swept the future floor.
Vio Lin future smiled.
“If that same future child I’m responsible for decides to crash my future car into a future tree and not even apologize, I’m not afraid to do what I have to do.”
That’s when I remembered everything. I remember the happy future thoughts. The future dreams I was about to make true. Then I remembered the future tree with its future branches. The wooden future timber piercing the future windshield shattered the future glass.
“You’re an idiot, Tri Bute. You’re reckless. You’re arrogant. You’re stupid; that’s why they kicked you out of future school. If I could teach you anything, Butey, it would be to keep your future eyes on the future road.”
The future pain, that’s something I remembered, too. It hurt. I didn’t future bleed, but it hurt.
“You were named after a great man, Tri Bute. That other Tri Bute had it all. He was always safe and he carefully planned everything! There’s a word for that; it’s methodical. He was so clever and resourceful. Those people are referred to as ingenious. He was lubricanitaryily, you could never catch that scamp. He was the most tumbilitenerary guy there ever was. They call that M.I.L.T., Tri Bute. The other Tri Bute was a M.I.L.T., and he would never crash my future car.”
Vio Lin swung the future bat at Tri Bute’s future head. Tri Bute slumped onto the future floor to dodge it, but Lin was quick with another swing striking him across the future face and knocking him backwards.
Tri Bute’s great grandfather turned around and broke another future lamp.
“Pick up this future glass, and pack up your future room. I’ll expect you out of here by next future week. Your mom should have listened to me when I told her about the future abortions, this is why we can't have nice future things, Tri Bute.”
“Feed the future seal, too! Good future night!” called Tri Bute’s great grandmother.
“I’ll be having future sex with your great grandmamma, so don’t disturb us.”
Tri Bute sat up and rubbed at his future face. It was only the second most future painful thing to happen to him that future day, but it hurt.
(OOC: At least I thought this was the last one. Okay one more. Oh, I also couldn't help joining in on all the spelling Gilmour wrong. I read it as Glimmer the first few times I saw his name. Peter Glimmer could be a product that makes your dick shiny.)