Today started like any other.

The alarm went off..

..the music played..

….and as I stretch and yawned,  and then enjoyed a little KISS.

But then I looked at the alarm clock.

I was late.

Late for work, and too late to write, I obviously had only one reaction.

So today? Today you get, well..

I apologize whole-heartedly for my slacking…

and promise NEVER to do it again.

So take today to write to me with ideas..

..go through the older posts…

…and enjoy this picture of boobies that I somehow can’t fit into this picto-story.

We’ll see you all on Monday. Sincerely,

((**NOTE** With time comes change, with change comes me finally using the TenTonHammer provided e-mail address. I mean hey, it’s only been two years right? Effective so immediately that I did it yesterday, the links to my e-mail and my new e-mail will be Coyote@tentonhammer.com . Ya know..in case you wanna boobie pic me. Giggity.))

“Die! Die! Why won’t you die?! Why won’t you die??!”

That’s what the gaming world seems to be shouting even louder than usual to the few remaining PC gamers out there.

Negative press, suspicious, blame - a slander party of epic proportions spun against us to bring us into the console gaming fold, or to kick us out completely. If you’re a PC gamer, you’re a Pirate who doesn’t pay for content. You hack and mod games, share them illegally with your friends and rip money out of the needy hands of the gaming companies without a second thought.

PC gamers are criminals, and that’s how we should treat them.

At least that’s the message Bioware is sending as they gently remind us that it is the “Computer Pirate” that causes high prices, annoying ass copyright protection, and even occasionally…

…GLOBAL WARMING! (Insert loud and dramatic music with an overlay of a fanged devil baby hissing here.)

Mass Effect, one of their most successful games to date, is finally coming to the PC platform for those of us who still refuse to pay $399 for a gaming box that you’re not allowed to fix yourself should it break down. (Which it does. Often.) And to celebrate the new PC release Mass Effect will have new content, improved game play, and the most Orwellian copyright protection that you could possibly imagine.

In order to play the game you’ll need to “Activate” it online - which is really no big deal. Those of us who enjoy Half-Life 2 and Portal and the like are well used to Steam. And while it can be a pain in the ass from time to time and it took some getting used to, it really isn’t that bad.

It greatly limits piracy (Yes, I know. You can have “stand alone” pirated versions of games, but since these are mostly Multi-player, the number of people snagging and burning this game is amazingly small compared to most.), allows you to select all of your games from a single menu, and updates your games when a patch comes out. Free content, bonus content, a friend’s list, and most importantly - a “Play offline” option for those people who play on laptops and who don’t always have internet connections, Steam seems like the logical choice in game protection. 

But Bioware doesn’t agree. The pirates are out there. Waiting.

And Bioware doesn’t want to have one single cent lost to these foul, villainous, evil, and often young teenage devils. So they’re putting a new twist on their copyright protection that will make SURE that they’ve got a Big Brother Eye on you.

They’re making you constantly register with their servers.

Every time you play your game, their servers will reactivate it FOR you. If for some reason you can’t get to a server that day? No big deal - you have a whole TEN days to do so.

And after that?

Your game no-worky-worky.

That’s right! Not only do you have to buy, register and activate with them to prove that you’re not some dirty scummy pirate - you have to KEEP DOING IT FOREVER! Or ya know, your game won’t work because you’re probably a filthy pirate.

Now this doesn’t sound like that big of a deal to many because they assure us that the “reactivation” will be seamless, but here’s the kicker - You get three activations. That’s it. Three.

You install it initially? Mark one off. You reinstall because of a computer upgrade? Mark one off. You put it on a second computer in your house? Mark one off and now you’re done. All three activation serials are toast and that game is now only allowed to be played on those three PCs, which it will check. Every time you play. Unless of course someone will a serial key gen activates your copy and your legal account gets flagged as “bad key”. Then they’ll just deactivate you. Period.

THAT will stop those god damn pirates!

But the problem is? It won’t.

People who will pirate this game will be playing on illegal copies that have had all of this nonsense hacked out of it. They will install the game, and play without once ever worrying about activations and registrations and ten day check ups.

Which means that they only people who will be dealing with the anti-piracy measures, the only people who will be forced to repeatedly assure Bioware that they have a legal copy, and the ONLY people who will be frustrated, stuck on hold with inept customer service, and NOT playing the game…

…are the people who are going to buy it.

TAKE THAT YOU FILTHY CUST..om..er..s…?

I for one was going to buy this game and add it to the small house that I’m building solely out of gaming boxes - but now I don’t think I can. How can I support a movement aimed at stopping pirates, by arresting and harassing the people buying it?

Pirates will simply play the game. End of story. They’ll download it, virtual drive host it, and play without a care in the world - this effort to stop them, wholly ignored.

Customers will install and activate and then every time they want to play, connect to a server that will collect data about their machine, registry settings, and conflicting software (Some LEGAL copies of games will not allow you to play if you have virtual drive devices installed on your PC - even if you aren’t using them.), and go through a reactivation process akin to checking in with your parole officer every time you wish to play. Which will eventually lead to the extinction and assimilation of every dirty, filthy, lying and cheating PC gamer out there.

Errr…Pirate. I meant Pirate - not PC gamer. Sorry, a little bit of truth got typed there.

Damn spell-check.

I meant Pirate. Those are the people who are going to suffer. Right? The Pirates?

-Coyote

Mother’s Day is probably upon us.

I say “probably” because I’m still not 100% sure. You see, Mother’s day is one of those magical and mystical Holidays that constantly changes dates so that if you’re a guy you can never remember exactly WHEN it is supposed to be.

Guys likes dates.

If you say “December 25th” we all know that it is Christmas. January 1st is New Years Day and “The Fourth of July” is glaringly obvious to even the most dense among our Neanderthal population. But not Mother’s day.

Nooooo…

Mother’s Day (like a million other so called “holidays”) moves around. Like a women it is elusive, tricky, and will spring upon you like a pouncing tiger ready to gnaw on your heart and fill you with guilt. All because YOU didn’t remember some stupid rhyme (There is ALWAYS a rhyme with these things.) that is supposed to help you remember when the date actually is. Rhymes like

“What frigging rhyme? Mother’s Day is ALWAYS the second Sunday in May. What the HELL is wrong with you?”

But this year we’re ready, because I know for a FACT that Mother’s Day is THIS COMING WEEKEND because I did a little research and nailed down an actual date. And of course by “did a little research” I made the mistake of asking Missus Coyote who then helpfully provided the clever little rhyme above and pointedly asked what I bought HER.

Which confused me because the last time I checked, she wasn’t MY Mother. Sure, she’s “A” Mother, but it isn’t MY problem. She should have had rich kids instead of the two little ear biters that run around here throwing dramatic sighs and saying “Daaaaaddy” in an exasperated voice whenever I dare venture out of my cave in search for food.

But I digress.

So knowing that Mother’s Day is Sunday and today is Wednesday, we have a full NINE DAYS to buy a gift. Which is obviously much more time than needed, but it is good to be prepared.

So what do you buy your Mother? Money is tight, or you’re cheap, or you just have no clue of what to get the woman who forever wrecked her hoo-hoo parts by squeezing out your thoughtless ass who doesn’t even call her on her BIRTHDAY. Well luckily for you, you have ME. A kind and gentle male spirit who is in touch with, and deeply understands the inner-workings of the female psyche.

Shall we? Lets.

“Uncle Coyote’s Five Cheap and Easy Gifts For Mother’s Day”

Breakfast In Bed - For some reason chicks go all wibbly for this one. Whenever you’re flipping through the channels looking for a good soft-core skin flick you’ll stumble across this little heart warming scene on some channel “Just For Women”:

A Mother is sleeping peacefully in bed while her family tip-toes in and surprises her with a thoughtfully made breakfast. She tears up, everyone hugs and I can only guess the ending because I’m usually watching “Busty Bad Girls in Jail IV: Hooter Lockdown” by then.

This gift is perfect because all you need is a key to your Mom’s house. That’s *IT*.

She usually has a fridge full of food, and you know damn well that YOU don’t have those fruity little TV tray things that they always use on TV just lying around. Slap some food on a plate, put it on the tray with some of those pretty flowers she’s always planting out front and sneak to her bedroom. And for the love of your testies be a MAN. Don’t sneak in and gently wake her - that stuff is cheesy and not exciting. You should be EXCITED to give her a gift on her special day, so grab that boat air horn from the garage, kick open her bedroom door and scream “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!” at the top of your lungs while blasting that puppy like you’re at a tail gate party.

The best part is - she won’t see it coming. No one EVER expects to be woken in their own home by a six foot tall shadowy figure with an air raid siren. Then you can enjoy a nice and peaceful ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance, where you can hold her hand the entire way. Chicks dig that stuff too.

Macaroni Art - Remember how happy she was when you’d give her this crap as a kid? Just imagine how PROUD she’ll be of you now that you don’t suck at it. Kids have small, clumsy, stupid hands because their kids. So anything they TRY to make with macaroni just looks like a bunch of macaroni glued half assed to an old cereal box.

But it didn’t matter, Moms eat this crap UP.

So imagine how proud she’ll be when you craft her something TOTALLY KICK ASS for Mother’s Day! A box of macaroni costs like a dollar (unless she has some) and there’s always that old tube of Elmer’s glue in the junk drawer - GO NUTS.

Have fun with it, and put some time and effort into it, and you’ll have a cheap, easy, and ALWAYS CHERISHED Mother’s Day gift that she’ll want to take to work and hang in her office.

Trust me. I work in an office. I see this CRAPPY art all the time. The bar isn’t set very high, and now that you have full control over your hands, (Unless the before mentioned “Busty Bad Girls” movie is on.) you’ll look like Rembrandt compared to the other kids.

Draw her a picture - Right up there with Macaroni Art, moms love themselves some crappy hand drawn stuff. The problem is, unlike macaroni art, drawing doesn’t come naturally with age. So you still might suck. Sure she’ll hang it anyway, but come on - this is your MOTHER and you need to go the extra mile.

“But Uncle Coyote! I can’t draw!”

Well that’s kinda sad, but I’ve got GOOD news for you. You don’t HAVE to know how to draw. This is the digital age my friend, and if you can’t do something there is always someone who can.

And that someone is the INTERNET.

You can find pictures of ANYTHING on the internet and as long as you have a colored printer she’ll NEVER KNOW. Just find a picture of something nice that she’d like to have for Mother’s Day like jewelry or a cruise or new car, print it out, sign your name and BOOM.

Your gift shopping is done and you’re back to surfing for porn. Easy peasy.

Cleaning Supplies - Moms like to clean stuff.

It’s a fact.

They’re always picking up and straightening and doing dishes and actually MOVING STUFF to dust and not just Pledging around the edge of the table without disturbing even a single knick-knack.

And they do this because they LOVE it. So why not give them the tools they need to continue their cute little hobby on their own? A few bottles of cleaner (The big ones you cheap skate), some sponges and those weird latex gloves with the bumpy palms that look like fun but just end up chaffing so don’t even bother - all these things can be found right at the supermarket.

Or even IN YOUR OWN BATHROOM CLOSET.

Yeah, I have no clue how they got in there either, but wrap’em up and give’em to Mom. Someone should get some use out of them. Right?

Bingo stuff - And lastly, the most important of all old lady gifts.

Bingo crap.

“Wait. I didn’t know they HAD bingo crap.” You might say if can throw a football and don’t run like a girl.

Yeah, I didn’t know they had bingo stuff either - but they do. Dabbers and markers and chips and magnetic wands and “bingo bags” that look like crocheted pigs, the bingo market is HUGE.

“But my Mother doesn’t PLAY bingo!”

All mothers play bingo. It is a fact. And if yours doesn’t she’s either a dude or you never bought her bingo supplies.

So what is in a bingo supply?

No clue. But if you check the closet next to those magically appearing cleaning supplies that you regifted? Chances are you’ll find a neat little bingo bag with everything she’ll need inside. Markers, wands, weird little containers with acronyms that match up to your wife’s initials - the works.

And it is all free.

So let THIS Mother’s Day be special, because chances are you only have one mother. And if by chance you have two? …You know..

…send pictures.

-Coyote

((We’re considering changing the name of “Not Funny…Ever” to “Only Funny If You Have Downs Syndrome” as per suggestion by yet another satisfied reader. This also pimps out this week’s EQ2 Patch notes AND a cartoon by the ever lovely, charming, and slightly hairy Brasse. - Enjoy.))

Bugs creep me out.

I’m not a little GIRL about it, and I don’t flip out and do that weird “jump around screaming and slap at random parts of my body the bug wasn’t even seen on” dance that most people do when something lands on them, (Unless it is monstrously huge or a bee, then all bets are off) but I really don’t like bugs.

And I blame magnifying glasses.

Scientists always want to show you crap REALLY close up, but I can promise you I was FAR better off without knowing that a fly has like six million hairy eyes or that a spider has the fang-to-body ratio of a sabertooth tiger. Bugs creep me out, and thanks to a link dropped into the comment section of yesterday’s column by Loolee - it’s worse now than it was before. 

Because she linked robot spiders. Or worse yet - robot spiders being designed and controlled by the military. Which of course leads to the glaringly obvious questions. Namely:

How are we not winning the war? How are we not the Supreme Intergalactic Rules of the Universe and loyally worshipped by slaves, minions and Tom Cruise alike?

Seriously, think about it for just a minute.

 You live in some third world country that we normal Americans can’t even find on a map unless Entertainment Tonight takes us there to show us what new kid Angelina Jolie has adopted. You’ve seen nothing but war and violence and oppression your whole life and to escape the hard streets you join some military movement or terrorist organization which offers you a bunch of virgins if you get blown into kibble.

(*Writer’s Note* - Virgins? REALLY? Virgins? Who wants a bunch of virgins? I mean they’re…they’re virgins. Now, you offer me 72 really hot slutty chicks? I’m blowing myself up in front of Burger King for Muhammad Ali TOMORROW. *End Note*)

You’re surrounded by war and sand and broken buildings and other stereotypical things that they show me on the evening news and some war movies where Sylvester Stallone or the Governor of California have to rescue their kids. You’re hungry, you’re tired, you’re scared, and as you lay crouched in a building praying to God and clutching a dirty but really reliable AK-47…

….TEN THOUSAND MECHANICAL SPIDERS POUR THROUGH THE WINDOWS.

I mean you’re probably used to big bugs and spiders and things crawling on you and what not because you live in the middle of Bugtopia - but these are different. These are super hybrid ROBOT spiders controlled by angry Americans. And if they want to pin you down and rip you open with their tiny metal pincers and lay robo-eggs in your face..

…they’re going to frigging DO it.

But it doesn’t just stop with scary little nanospider things ripping the flesh from your bones in tiny little agony filled chunks.

Oh no.

That wouldn’t NEARLY terrifying enough.

I mean spiders are still just spiders, and even the super fast mechanical robo spiders can be out run, right? And unless they transform into tiny little motorboats (Which would be an awesome frigging toy. SPIDER CHANGERS!) you can hurl your screaming carcass into the nearest oasis and swim like a bitch because they’re going to SINK. Because robo spiders can’t cross water.

But the robo dragonfly can.

Now they’re airborne and honing in you on you ear canal and there is jack you can do to stop them except for hope for a stiff breeze and pray that they don’t fire lasers into the uncovered exhaust shaft that leads to your brain.

Flying robot insects. Crawling and pinching robot insects. How could this get ANYMORE frigging terrifying? They can paint these things up like clowns and give them little Dracula capes and my ass isn’t going to pucker any harder than it already is. Come on! DO YOU YOUR WORST! DO YOUR WO-

“Some federally funded teams are even growing live insects with computer chips in them, with the goal of mounting spyware on their bodies and controlling their flight muscles remotely.”

…

…..

…I just lost control over a few of MY “flight muscles” and now need a change of shorts.

Oh..so you’re now implanting super intelligent computer chips into insects for scientific purposes? You “hope” to control them and you have future “goals” for them that you assume are completely under your control?

Mmmm-hmmm. Mmm-hmmm. I see. Very good. Ahem. Professor, a quick question if I may? I realize that I may have asked this previously on an occasion or two, but:

WHY ISN’T THE SCI-FI CHANNEL AND EVERY B-MOVIE EVER PLAYED ON A F***ING SATURDAY AT 4PM REQUIRED F***ING REFERENCE MATERIAL FOR YOUR GOD DAMN EXPERIEMENTS?!?

WHAT. THE. F***?!??!

Am I the ONLY one who gets the Sci-Fi channel? Is it pumped DIRECTLY to my house and my house alone with hopes of convincing me that Richard Grieco or Antonio Sabatto Jr are really and truly good actors? You can’t, I repeat, you CAN NOT grow computer chips inside INSECTS without something going terribly TERRIBLY frigging wrong! And what KIND of insects are we talking here? Because I’ve seen enough frickin’ television to know that you’re not starting out on grasshoppers and ladybugs, are you?

No.

You’re going right for the “Super poisonous, little known, really big, African Killer Bee” aren’t you?

Don’t answer. We both know.

So robotic spiders and dragonflies. Insect cyborgs raised in labs and grown with computer chips in them. Radio controlled COCKROACHES that scientists can literally steer around the lab with a little remote control device like an RC car straight out of Wes Craven’s sleepless nights…

Oh yeah. WISH I was kidding, but this is currently a project that the Japanese are working on - not that I can’t sort see the merits.

“Hehe. Toshi left the lid off of his coffee cup again. Watch! *plunk*”

Plus? If this works? That means SOONER or later we can get remote control forehead gizmos for really hot chicks and make them do all SORTS of naughty and questionable things…

Although I doubt too many lab geeks would be upset when we joking dropped a really busty obedient chick into their coffee. Unless of course the kid next-door is playing the latest Mortal Kombat on his wireless network and she turns around and rips out your heart.

But in the end…isn’t that kinda worth it?

-Robocoyote

I hate Tony Stark.

I know that I’ve started columns with this sentence in the past, and I know in my heart that I’ll probably start columns with this sentence in the future. But it has to be said:

I HATE Tony Stark.

I hate that he isn’t a mutant, I hate that he became a superhero simply because he could afford it, and now even more - I hate that he got his own frigging movie….

…and it was good.

The Plot

Rich billajillionaire playboy Tony “Wow, a guy named Tony who doesn’t drive an IROC-Z” Stark is the CEO, owner, and lead inventor of Stark Industries which specializes in blowing stuff up. A weapons mogul, arms dealer, and guy who gave me a reason to use the word mogul, the movies simply starts out as waaaay to unbelievable and fake right off the start. I mean a CEO who actually DOES something in a company? A CEO who gets DIRTY and works all hours of the night on projects even though he is a billionaire?

HA.

But this IS a movie so we suspend disbelief for just a moment and get sucked into the comic book world. A world where the big bosses actually work and keep themselves fit and healthy and don’t live on a steady diet of Krispy Kreme donuts and easily replaceable blonde secretaries with loose morals.

Showing off his latest weapon in a country with a name like Afganakrakaplekaplekastan, Tony “Antne” Stark is captured by Tuskan Raiders who are supposed to be terrorists even though they all have perfect teeth and headshots (available upon request). They take him to the nicest cave in the area and force him to shack up with a quickly forgettable character and build a new weapon. They want it to be more deadly, more explosive, and more  “wickedly awesome” than anything he’s ever built before.

Even though he’s in a cave.

In the desert.

And his only tools are some live scorpions and duct tape.

Although honestly? A big BALL of duct tape with a bunch of live scorpions stuck to it would probably be an awesome weapon. If you were at the ATM pulling out your life savings so that you could afford a “small” soda the size of an industrial waste container at the concession stand for a movie and someone pulled out a ball of duct tape squiggling with live scorpions?

You’d give him the money. And probably pee a little.

So Tony “Whoz duh boss? Eh?” Stark takes all the missiles and weapons and tools they give him to work with and despite his location, the poor work environment, and the fact that his easily forgettable plot device of an assistant is really a gynecologist from Pittsburgh - and trips a plutonium warhead blowing a hole in the desert the size of the Grand Canyon!

AHHAHAHAH!

I mean come on, what would REALLY happen? I know that I’ve never like worked on military grade missiles and weapons of mass destruction so I can hardly be considered an expert, but I’m PRETTY sure that you need a more sterile environment than a dirty cave equipped with some rusty tweezers.

But again we suspend disbelief and even though he’s under lock and key and heavily monitored and guarded, Tony “What the F*** is a Shalhoub?” Stark manages to design and build  his Iron Man suit which he uses to fight crime and spy on little kids in a creepy Michael Jackson moment.

Geek Stuff

Geeks are going to love this flick, because while it does stray from the comic quite a bit - Robert Downey Jr. *IS* Tony “Running out of Tony Jokes” Stark.  The attitude, the arrogance, the kindness masked by a cocky “I’m right and I’m rich” demeanor, Downey NAILES the character front to back and I doubt there are any who could have done it better.

Plus there is a lot of name dropping.

If you are a huge comic geek make sure that you listen carefully to the names used throughout the movie. While the mortals out there won’t get it half the time, Super virgins like you (or in this case, me) will be sliding in your seat and bouncing around until Missus Coyote hucks over-priced popcorn at you and tells you to shut up.

Names, characters, and foreshadowing galore, they did a damn good job dumbing the movie down for the general public while keeping the meat of the geek experience alive for those of us who have still never kissed a girl.

And as a bonus, Gwyneth Paltrow NAILED the role of Pepper Potts.

Conclusion

While there are a few dry spells and the story is a bit predictable in spots, it happens far apart enough where you only occasionally notice. Robert Downey Jr. became the character and carried the flick past any altered versions that made me shout “HEY! That’s not how that happened!” until movie goers threw really expensive popcorn at me.

We’ll give this one two paws up, a SOLID A Minus (A-) and highly recommend that if you are a comic book geek that you go out and see it immediately. Even if you HATE Tony “RadarX” Stark.

And as always (I should never have to tell you kids this!) stay after the credits.

You’ll thank me later.

-Coyote

(Monday Pimpings! The new Avast Ye is out, better than ever and now equipped with the soon-to-be-famous Hobo Cannon. Check it out!)

I have too many games.

Currently my computer desk (Or Command Station Alpha Bravo Niner) is being over-run by boxes and boxes of video games. They wait there patiently in their asymmetrical book-stacking piles just waiting for me to reach for a pen or my Spiderman cereal bowl so that they can topple like giant dominoes and add their own special Snap Crackle and Pop to my rice crispies.

And it is my own fault.

You see, these piles aren’t made up entirely of new games and awaiting worlds and adventures. Oh sure they’re in there mid pile, or dotting the vast landscape of air filled boxes, but for the most part - it is the old crap. Baulder’s Gate I & II, Icewind Dale, Neverwinter Nights, Temple of Elemental Evil - games that I haven’t played in years, yet I still can’t bring myself to throw the boxes away.

So instead they intermingle with Orange Box, Call of Duty 4, or the NINE MILLION unopened copies of “The Matrix Online” that I could use to build a modest sized dwelling. (Thank you SOE!) And while I haven’t touched most of these games in months or even years, (I’m looking at YOU Resident Evil) and the CD’s for them are scratched, chipped, or even missing - the boxes remain.

Because I know that they’re going away soon.

As much as I love my boxes, and I love my guides and books and the stories and lore and helpful hints contained within, gaming companies HATE them. They loathe them and see them as an unwanted waste of money. Five years ago the boxes were a necessity, internet connections were still flakey, had drastically varying prices and not everyone had a “high speed” connections. But now that the standard phone modem is for all arguments a technological fossil and the world is cruising the information highway for porn at speeds never before thought possible, digital downloads (and porn) have gotten stronger.

*

More reliable. Cheaper. Less hassle.

And companies LOVE it.

What better way to thwart piracy then to force everyone to download the game directly from you? Digital downloads don’t need packaging, the lore and stories and hints can be splashed on a screen that no one watches while the game installs, and you can STILL charge the user the exact same amount of money to play even though you are saving bundles on books and leaflets and box art. It is the perfect form of selling games..

…for them.

Me? I’ve grown attached to bulky boxes and impossibly thick user manuals. I LIKE the cluttery piles of gaming boxes that threaten to come crashing down upon any unauthorized user who dares to sit at my desk. Like the Missus:

“God damn it. I went to use your computer and got hit in the head with something called “System Shock II”! When are you going to clean your damn room?”

NEVER! Never damn it! The boxes serve as a reminder! They’re as fond of a memory to me as a photograph or conversation with an old friend. Sure the corners are chipped and crinkled and it hasn’t actually housed a game in three years, but that box is a part of me.

I remember the excitement when I bought it. Ripping open the clean plastic force field that protects it and reading the booklet on the way home from the gaming store. Installing and tweaking and bouncing in excitement because the box art and the story information in the instruction guide juice me up to play.

And now they want to take that away from me.

My discs and my booklets and boxes and leaflets for $2.99 off of some game that I will never play. They want to make everything neat and easy and organized and halt the casualties from any box tower collapses that could happen.

It’s a crime, and a serious one at that. Like robbery or conning some granny out of her social security check or putting a flat chested chick in a bikini. It is a crime and I won’t stand for it.

So I’m issuing a warning to those companies who are heading down this dark path of seamless transfers, clutter free desks and boy-chests on women.

The first one of you bastards to do this? The FIRST one of you to adopt a “no box, no booklet” policy? I’m going to bankrupt you.

And I can.

Not through boycotts or slander, and not through idle threats and harm to you or your company, but through reality. You adopt this measure and you’ll lose every penny you’ve ever made.

Because I’ll send all of my copies of The Matrix Online to you, in the mail, postage due. And with as many of these as I have?

No one can afford that.

VIVA LA REVOLUTION! DOWN WITH DIGITAL DOWNLOADS!

-Coyote

Superman.

Batman.

Spiderman.

These names bring forth images of crime fighting Superheroes who use their abilities, powers, and vast fortunes to help the world and make it a better, safer place. Yet for every well known and well loved superhero there are literally DOZENS of worthless failures that you’ve never heard of.

Failures who have such epic levels of pure suckatude that they make Robin and Aquaman look down right impressive. Heroes who have gimmicks, powers, or natural talents so lame, so useless that they sink into obscurity and fall from the minds of almost all that encounter them.

Except for me.

I, and only a few others like me become plagued by the memories of these failures. We’ve dug too deep, read to much, and have seen past the glitter and glitz of the “famous” success stories. Forced to dwell on every sucky and failed character that has ever been created, we know no peace. We know no rest.

But we do know joy.

The joy that comes in sharing these HORRIBLE characters with each an every one of you in the hopes that you’ll join us in our misery. Yeah, we’re bastards - but we are in no way as bad as:

Cypher - Douglas Ramsey was a young boy with an extraordinary gift; he could talk, decipher or understand ANY language or code simply by looking at it or hearing it.

Truly a useful and amazing ability to have. Mutant in origin, he was discovered at the tender age of 15 by the X-men who put him in a control center. Attaching him to a mainframe they set him to work deciphering encrypted data and ancient scrolls in hopes to unravel the secrets of the cosmos and help mankind.

JUST KIDDING! They threw him in a leather jumpsuit and took him with them to fight crime!

While the ability itself was impressive, it wasn’t exactly PRACTICLE IN FRIGGING BATTLE. But that didn’t stop our heroes from sending the young boy against dangerous, heavily armed, and often criminally insane super villains! Using his powers of interpretation for GOOD, Cypher stepped into battle and…

…got his ASS KICKED EVERY SEVEN SECONDS.

He wasn’t a FIGHTER. He wasn’t a SUPERHERO. He was a KID WHO KNEW OTHER LANGUAGES. Untrained in combat, criminology, or even packing a pistol he was thrust in the face of danger like a sacrificial lamb every time they remembered that he was a part of the team.

I suspect that he hid.

A lot.

He probably slept during the day and avoided the other X-Men and went out of his way to do a good job sweeping the floors or washing the dishes so that they’d need him to stay at home and not have him fight The Juggernaut.

But it didn’t do him any good. He died. He died hard. He got infected, died, and merged with an annoying comic relief character to eternally walk the earth in undying agony as a mere sliver of his old self.

Hehe. Those zany X-men and their wacky child endangerment!

Matter Eater Lad - Tenzil Kem was a human looking alien from the planet….oh gods. I don’t wanna say it.

*sighs*

He was a human looking alien from the planet BISMOLL who had the mutant power of being able to eat, chew, and digest ANYTHING in the world.

Metal. Poison. Rock. All of these things were a “yummy snack” for Matter Eater Lad!

…

….and that’s about it.

The dude could eat anything. He wasn’t impervious to bullets or having his head ripped off. He wasn’t trained in the art of fighting - hell he couldn’t even talk to fish.

He could just eat.

Anything.

…from the planet BISMOLL.

Yeaaaaah. So that’s about it. He could eat stuff and not break his teeth on a rock or rip out his colon pooping out part of a submarine’s hull.

He could eat.

But I bet you didn’t want to go into the bathroom AFTER him. That’s all I’m saying.

The Red Bee - Assistant district attorney Rick Raleigh was sick of the crime in his city. Day and night he watched the evil attack the good, and he watched the innocent become caught in the crossfire. So he threw together a costume, filled it with live bees that he trained and became…

THE CREEPIEST F***ING SUPERHERO EVER!

This guy was FULL OF BEES. Think about that for a moment. He wasn’t just surrounded by them and controlling them, but he FILLED HIS COSTUME WITH LIVE BEES! He even had his special (and brightest) bee “Michael” tucked away safely in the confides of his belt buckle for emergencies.

I’m not sure what kind of emergency calls for the use of a well trained bee, but I’ll be DAMNED if I want to find out.

He ran around throwing bees at bad guys. That’s it. THAT is the sum of his power, and as useless as it sounds, *I* wouldn’t want to tangle with some dude wearing a suit of live bees. I mean, if you’re walking around and your clothes are fully of live bees? Chances are you aren’t the most stable guy in the world. But now you’re throwing on a costume and fighting crime using trained bees?

I’m turning to a life of good REAL frigging quick.

So where is he now? Dead. The killer? Ironically enough, Anaphylaxis. Yeah. NO ONE saw that coming.

Skateman - Ex-super-secret-military-weaponsX-type-fighter Billy Moon was your classic Vietnam Vet. Toughened by war, hardened by ..um..hardship…and spat upon by society when stepping off the bus from a war he wanted no part of, he did what every ‘Nam vet did when trying to adapt to normal life once again.

He joined a Roller Derby team.

And damn it he was GOOD. TOO good.

Billy knew that if he could somehow blend his ungodly ability to roller-skate with his budding war psychosis and tendency to flashback and kill people with his military trained martial arts every time a car backfired, he’d once again become a productive member of society. After accidentally killing his best friend during a roller-skating contest, Billy knew what he had to do.

Donning a red shirt, some freakishly small “70’s shorts” and a mask that had a cape glued to the back of it, Billy “The Kid” Moon began fighting crime in the rough and tumble gangland he called home as…

SKATEMAN!

The only frigging “Superhero” who could be stopped by rough pavement or a small stone getting lodged in his wheel.  Plus he has the super smarts to huck a grenade to what appears to be a 10 year old boy so that the KID can go and set a bomb. A kid who runs at kid speed. Not even “kid on skates” speed, but just normal “ten year old boy being casually tossed high explosives” speed.

Seriously. That’s it. THAT is his “power”. He skates around fighting crime on a pair of white roller-skates while wearing short shorts and a flaming cape and nonchalantly hucking bombs to little kids who aren’t even sidekicks.

Most responsible Superhero EVER.

And how do you fight crime wearing a pair of roller-skates? First, the bad guys can hear you coming like a MILE away.

“Woooooooosh…wooooooosh….wooooooosh.”

“God damn it! It’s that old white dude in the testicle squeezers again. Can’t we just SHOOT him, or like..go over on the lawn where he’d have to do that really awkward “walking on grass on skates” thing?”

Skateman disappeared pretty quickly, more than likely not because he came up against the only villain that could defeat him, “Pretty much anybody with a GUN man”.

A roller skating ‘Nam vet vigilante. I kinda wish he was a bad guy so that Aquaman could kick his ass and feel good about himself

Purpleman - Okay, technically Purpleman wasn’t “useless”. But I still HATE him. Even though he actually had pretty impressive mind control powers and could make people do things, or persuade them in his favor, he sucked.

And he was PURPLE.

And I know what you’re thinking:

“How would you know when he was choking?”

                or

“EVERYTHING is purple? I mean…everything? Even his…you know?”

Yes, everything even his “you know” was purple, and I guess you could tell he was choking if he made the universal gesture for choking which is passing out and twitching.

So why did I list him here?

Because HE WAS PURPLE. And wore PURPLE CLOTHING. And CHOSE THE FRIGGING NAME “PURPLEMAN”.

How unimpressive is that for a Super Villain? You have people like Doctor Doom, or Venom, or Magneto…and then you look over and there is “Purpleman” chilling out in his purple pimp suit controlling minds.

Sure, he had powers, sure he was a pretty involved and REALLY often used Villain, but I ask you honestly:

Do any of you remember him?

No?

Yeah, me either. He’s just that forgettable which means that he is an INCREDIBLELY BORING character. If you can’t remember a purple dude who controls minds walking around in a Grape Ape costume…

…he DESERVES to be on this list.

-Coyote

Thwip!

Did you hear that sound? No no, that’s not Spiderman’s web slinger neatly packaging up a bad guy…

THAT my friends is the sound of every 30-something geek’s ass puckering closed in clenched excitement as the Ghostbusters game draws ever closer.

(Well every 30-something geek except Ten Ton Hammer’s very own RadarX who mocks both it, and me for being excited about it, but Radar’s lack of taste has nothing to do with this posting. Sure he’s mocking one of the greatest movies ever made and the childhood memories that most of us hold sacred, but do I think that you should send him personalized hate mail at RadarX@tentonhammer.com because of it? Yes. Yes I do.)

In summary - the game looks nothing short of amazing. They’ve hunted down and paid off the original cast to do voice work, dug up unused scores and music from the ORIGINAL movie, and have gone out of their way to make sure that we buy in slime covered fanboy droves.

And we will. Especially for the Wii.

As a PC gamer I can proudly say that I own no “current” gaming console. Oh sure, there is an X-box floating around for the pups - and I even think I can dig up an original Play Station if I need to.

The kids have their Nintendo DS’s (Which are handhelds, something I consider good for playing in the car or in a waiting room to pass the time, but hardly a hardcore gaming console.) and a ton of those really cheap “Tiger” games from Wal-Mart, but on the whole PC’s dominate this house. And even though The Force Unleashed looks amazing and lets you use the Wii controller as a lightsaber, I was still on the fence about actually buying the Wii itself.

Until now.

Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and Girls. Geeks of both sexes who should and shouldn’t have suspiciously large breasts please sit down because if you are caught standing during the unleashing of this announcement the blast of sheer coolness may actually blow you off of your feet. Ahem. If you buy Ghostbusters for the Wii, and you own a Nintendo DS….

…it will sync up to your Wii and can be used as a FRIGGING PKE METER!!

How FRIGGING COOL IS THAT?!? Suck us even FURTHER into the game why don’t you?? I mean you’re already wielding your Wii controller like a positron collider and strapped a bunch of books to your back to simulate the weight of the actual Proton Pack, but NOW you get a WORKING PKE METER? How can you NOT want this game??

And let us not forget that the screen shots look amazing, (Courtesy of Kotaku, an amazing site that you should check out. After reading MINE of course.) the voices in game will be the voices of the original actors and not a sound-alike or cut up sound bytes from the original two movies, and that it will be on an amazing physics engine that only enhances game play.

How can ANY red-blooded, non-puritan pilgrim buckle-fetishist NOT be creaming the proverbial jeans over this game?

As a long time gamer and self proclaimed “Video Game God” I know that the Wii isn’t the best console out there. I know that its graphics are lacking and that its play can be frustrating and that the PS3 or Xbox 360 are better, more logical choices.

But Wii Lightsaber? Wii Ghost busting and DS PKE detection? Janine Melnitz being all young and boinkable in digital form?

I know that I’m a grown-up and that you “can never go back”. Hell, I myself admit to this and have discussed it in length. But Ghostbusters? GHOSTBUSTERS is the exception to the rule. The movie still kicks ass, the memories are still fresh and untainted by bad claymation or cheesy robotic owls, and there isn’t a kid among us (besides RadarX@TenTonHammer.com) who didn’t want to BE a Ghostbuster. Or better yet, doesn’t STILL want to be a Ghostbuster somewhere deep inside.

Like me.

I am 33 going on 8, and that 8 year old inside me governs more aspects of my life than you’d even jokingly suspect. I am a slave to my inner child and right now he is throwing the MOTHER of all tantrums. And like any responsible parent I think I know what I have to do. Totally give in, give him what he wants, and then beat the bajeezus out of him away from the prying eyes of the public.

Problem is…I think he’s into that.

-Coyote

P.S. Hancock. hehe. Hancock.

Grand Theft Auto IV is out…

And people are FREAKING.

And while this game looks amazing and will be getting a ton of coverage from everyone in the media because of the controversy surrounding it, I’m already sick of it. Mainly because it isn’t out for PC yet (which sucks) but also in part because every group out there is already screaming that this game is ruining their life.

So I’m going to address these people JUST ONCE and then never again acknowledge how stupid they are unless they do something even stupider (and funnier) to catch my attention. So for each and every “group” out there bitching, I would like to address you once and for all and be done with it.

Let’s start with..

Parents - Parents everywhere are freaking out because their kids might somehow go out and buy this game, sneak it into their house and play it - thus becoming psychotic killers and hooker bludgeoning madmen. And the worst part?

They’re powerless to stop them.

It is like your kids doing drugs, stealing cars or ditching school. If it is going to happen it is just going to happen and there is NOTHING you can do about it. I mean, it isn’t like you’re their parent or…any..thing…

HEY. Wait. It totally is you frigging media whoring whack jobs! You are TOTALLY their parent and if you’ve raised your children correctly they should (and I know this is a stretch) DO WHAT YOU SAY! What the hell is wrong with people who say that they can’t control their kid so the rest of the world has to babysit the budding Manson?

“He’ll just borrow it from a friend, or sneak it into the house! I can’t stop him!”

Really? Seems like smashing the piss out of his console would stop him. Seems like taking it away and unplugging it and not letting him close or lock his bedroom door and actually WATCH what your known juvenile delinquent was doing would stop him. It is called parenting because you are a PARENT, so start acting like one.

If your 15 year old kid does what he wants and ignores your instructions it is because he’s learned that he can get away with it. Put down the beer, put Desperate Housewives or WWE Monday Night on hold for ten seconds and keep Damien from hucking the nanny off the roof.

He’s your responsibility, not mine. YOU got knocked up by a guy with a Kid Rock mustache who drives a camaro and supports you by throwing the few crumpled 20’s he has left over from selling pot, not me. (I wore a condom, and he was surprisingly gentle.) YOU failed to raise him and now he’s doing things to animals that would make Jeffery Dahmer cringe, so YOU go clean up your mess.

If the kid goes nuts with a weed whacker and beats up a hooker? If a VIDEO GAME is enough to send Lil’ Teddy Bundy cart wheeling over that edge? Don’t ask yourself why they made a game, ask yourself how a 15 year old kid got backed into that corner in the first place.

Stop yer bitching and for the LOVE OF GOD just STOP with the home-made ink NECK tattoos. They make everyone who looks at you uncomfortable. Seriously.

Immigrants -”GTA IV is portraying immigrants as criminals and thugs and implying that the majority of immigrants are responsible for the crime in this country.”

…

…well..duh. That’s because THEY ARE.

And before any of you tree huggers throw down your special brownies and stagger towards your e-mail in a giggling psychedelic rage, let me explain.

Immigrants have always been connected to crime.

The pilgrims came and killed people and took their land. Sure they had a big banquet full of turkeys and maize (You know it as corn), but in the end? There were some dead Indians and a bunch of white people saying they did it because they’re trying to build a better place. And by better place they meant “without Indians”, which as you might have guessed sucked for the Native Americans.

I mean one day you’re out chasing Buffalo and the next some white dude name Biff with a sweater around his neck and a buckle fetish is calling you an Indian and shooting you with musket balls.

Which by the way, we should totally bring back. All guns should be muskets because then there would be no gun crime. You get one shot, it takes a team of nine men a month to load and it shoots MUSKET BALLS, which are roughly the size of watermelon. You see someone get shot on TV and there is this little hole and they stagger around all dramatically. You get shot with a musket ball and all that is left IS that little hole, surrounded by a weird pink jelly that used to be you.

But I digress.

The settlers to the west came and killed people and took land. The Italians did or did not bring the Mafia which does or does not exist, (I ain’t saying NOTHING.) and the Polish brought with them a bevy of really lame “polish jokes” which people to this day still think are funny but never are.

Am I saying every Immigrant is connected to a crime? No. Of course not, and especially not any Italians with names like Nunzio. But I am saying with immigration comes some crime. Maybe it is innocent, culture clash, misunderstanding, yada…but to say that a video game is painting an unfair picture because ONE immigrant is committing a crime?

Congratulations, you don’t even have to take the citizenship test. Bitching about retarded stuff and acting all offended over something ridiculous and wanting to sue?

Yer American. Welcome. Yer fruit basket is in the mail.

Australia and New Zealand - Now enjoying your newly watered down GTA:IV without all of the violence and hooker stomping.

For those who are screwed by this, I deeply apologize for the state of your backwater, poison animal filled country. It is bad enough that people think that you guys actually drink Fosters (Australian for “Rancid dishwater we sell to stupid Americans), but now you have like six of the nine people who have electricity and a high school diploma telling you what you can and can’t play.

Sorry mates, crappy bit of luck there.

Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll get bit by one of your many, many, MANY sharp toothed and poisonous animals.

You’re on an island that once served as a prison, so ya know…having your rights taken away is actually kinda ironic in a non-moresettian way.

Hookers - “GTA:IV and the like encourage violence against people in the sex industry.”

Like porn stars or people who own nudie bars and dirty book shops with suspiciously sticky floors?

No it doesn’t.

Most of us have never SEEN a hooker, and those of us who have - even after playing every incarnation of Grand Theft Auto - only think one of two things;

“Holy hell she looks scary and I bet you anything she’s got diseases and will cut me with a prison shiv made out of an old toothbrush and some ponytail holders.”

                             OR

“Man…I wish my friends weren’t around.”

That’s IT.

We don’t think about beating them up or taking their money because we’ve all watched TV and we know for a fact that some 7 foot tall Huggybear lookin’ psycho, and/or Snoopdog are gunna come around the corner any second and beat us senseless.

Hookers scare us, but pimps in bright red suits scare us even more. We’re gamers! We’re not packing heat (Well..Radar is..) and looking to curb stomp a street walker like Ed Norton in that one movie that I’m too lazy to look up.

We either wanna get away before a herpes tick leaps off of her and latches onto our neck like something out of a Stephen King book or we want to pay her to see her boobies and do naughty NAUGHTY stuff that you can’t imagine for under 50 dollars.

THAT’S it.

And if yer so convinced that this game is going to inspire violence to hookers? Don’t be a hooker which is a violent and brutal lifestyle WITHOUT video games.

Unless yer prices are good. Then ya know…look me up when my friends leave.

UPS - “UPS has had to terminate employment of several carriers after discovering that they have been stealing shipped copies of GTA: IV”

Okay…there’s nothing to bitch about here - that’s just funny.

You buy a game online and it doesn’t arrive. You’re charged but no hooker stomping. You call the game store and they say they shipped it, UPS says “Hey, we delivered it.” and your out time, energy, and money all because some dude in brown shorts with great legs stole your video game.

Hehe.. That’s awesome.

So in conclusion - stop your bitching. It is JUST a game. If your life is ruined by a video game, or you are forced to kill because a video game, or your friends won’t leave so that you can pay a hooker because they’re PLAYING your video game…

…it is not the fault OF the video game.

Quit blaming others for your problems and for once in your life take responsibility for your god damn actions.

Unless you work for the UPS….in which ya know…I want my cut.

Oh yeah, and I LOVE how you look in those shorts…

LOVE it.

-Coyote

((PIMPINGS!!! My boy Bongo is at it again! This time doing me the honor of giving me my own Superhero Parody character in “The Amazing Superteam”. Meet Coyote.))

As you may or may not know, out there in the dreaded “real world”, I am a Computer Technician.

While writing is a childhood dream that I refuse to let go of (Astronaut smashtronaut) and I’ve had a degree of success in my many attempts at it - Missus Coyote isn’t as fond of Ramen Noodles as I am and when you send your kids to school barefoot Child Protection Agencies seem to notice.

Unless you live in Arkansas. Or Alabama. Or some reeeaally freaky parts of Kentucky.

But that’s not the point.

You see, beyond my words and what I try to pass off as humor I have an actual real life job as “Nick Burns, Your Company Computer Guy”…

…without the charm or patience. In this position I spend all day resetting passwords, repairing computers, monitoring a bevy of servers and systems and occasionally bludgeoning users to death with a really old IBM mechanical keyboard for still laughing at and using the old I.D.-Ten-T joke. I am blamed and abused for every technical fault of the monkey behind the work station throwing feces at his keyboard, I am the bitch at the ball gag wearing end of the support phone, and most horrifically:

I’m a mall kiosk full of free computer support to every Tom, Dick and hehe I said Dick that has a question about their Mother’s friend’s roommate’s son’s twelve year old computer. Well no more.

I quit.

I’ve been asked one too many times about wireless networking and the very last “one quick question” that is neither one nor quick has been tossed on the pile. To quote the famous literary giant known only as “Popeye”…

“I’ve taken alls I cans stands, and I can’ts stands no mores!”

So I’m done. Finished. Out like the really obvious kid from Nsync. Finito. No more will these hands heal the sick and the pop-up infested. And do you know why?

Because I’m raising goats.

“What the F*** do *YOU* know about GOATS?” You might be asking all sarcastically with a potty mouth if you are the spouse of a man who just announced that he was going to quit and that the kids really don’t need shoes because the barefoot look is “in” this year.

The truth is - I know little to nothing about goats. I mean I know SOMETHING about them, namely that they’re little weird horned farm animals and that they always eat garbage and tin cans in cartoons, but other than that?

Not a damned thing.

But what I lack in knowledge of the actual animal I’ve decided to raise in lieu of a “real job” that “pays actual money” is enough to make me quit without even giving this a single rational or non-vodka inspired thought. Little facts such as:

* Nobody asks you about goats at parties: It’s a fact. I know this because I just made it up, so I can verify it. People never ask you goat related questions at parties, the mall, while you are ACTUALLY FRIGGING PEEING IN THE BATHROOM. No lie.

I’m sitting there with one hand on my junk and my focus dead ahead in order to redeem myself from the “Corn Chip incident” (as it has come to be known) and the guy (Or alien, or faceless demon ready to devour my soul, or CHUD - I don’t know, I don’t look.) next to me will say something like - “Hey, let me ask you something about my home computer”.

Really? HERE? NOW? While I’m partially nude and touching myself you want to ask me about computers. This couldn’t wait a minute until we’re over by the sink and not in a homo-erotic opener to alternative German porn?

But it can never wait.

No matter where I go or what I’m doing, the moment someone finds out that I’m a computer tech the questions just come pouring in and I’m sick of them. Then I realized…

No one talks to a goat farmer while HE is peeing. No one has sudden and urgent goat related questions that pop up as soon as they find out that you’re a goat farmer. In fact they just kinda wrinkle their nose and refuse to shake your hand on the off chance that you’re JUST getting off shift and still have some fresh farmed goat stuck to your fingers.

There is no down side.

* Goats seldom “just stop working”: Computers magically seem to do this even though the user “didn’t do ANYTHING! Really!”. Sure it looks like someone renamed the Windows directory to “Bob’s Wickedcool Windows” and upon reboot it couldn’t find the default folder needed for startup, but Bob didn’t do it.

It just stopped working. Really!

Well goats don’t just stop working, and if on the off chance they do? I’m pretty sure that you can eat them. I mean they’re made of meat right? And if we’ve learned anything about animals that are made entirely out of meat is that they’re pretty much tasty.

You have a barbeque, order a new “live goat” and boom! You’re back in business.

I’m seeing no flaws in my plan. 

* Not everyone owns a goat: Which means that almost no one out there thinks that they are a goat expert and will do really stupid and disturbing things to their goat and then ask you to fix it. The goat-to-stupid-people-who-shouldn’t-EVER-own-goats ratio is extremely small and properly a portion of the population that I could easily avoid.

The computer-to-stupid-people-who-should-NEVER-own-a-computer ratio? Too depressing to talk about.

* Goat farmers probably smell: Like the freaky ghetto paint jobs on poisonous frogs, the huge fangs on snakes and spiders, and the weird pulsating moles on Gramma’s neck - nature gives every animal a natural defense that keeps the unwanted away.

Natural goat odor?

Yeah. I’m guessing that is preeeeetty high up there on the “keep the HELL away from this stinky bastard” scale of fending off stupid questions and people who want to use a 14 year old Packard Bell to “just surf the internet”.

The more I think about this, the more perfect my plan seems.

No more e-mail messages that you can’t get to or that are mistakenly noted as spam. No more broken hard drives or sticky CD-Rom trays because you spilled ONE lousy soda. No more surfing the net for really strange and erotic porn featuring women with humungous airbags that you’d never normally see outside of an industrial vehicle accident…

….

…..frick.

Okay. I’ll stick with the computers a bit longer.

But only until I get a stomach for goat porn. Then the transformation will be complete and Germany…here I come.

-Coyote

(The new Avast Ye is up!

Action! Adventure! Ninjas! What more could you ask for? Go read the friggin’ comic or so help me, I’m coming after each and every one of you.

And I’m bringing trained rats and a Zippo lighter.)