Rico Slade Will Fucking Kill You Page 3

  14 - Rico Slade XXV: Cell Phone Slaughter

  “Hi, this is George.”

  “That’s a bunch of crap, Mayhem. What’s with this George shit?”

  “Heh, you’re so silly, Chip.”

  “Chip? You know as well as I do this ain’t Chip. You’ve got Rico Slade on the line and I’m gonna stop you from destroying the world by punching you in the fucking face a bunch of fucking times.”

  “Punching me in the fucking face a bunch of fucking times? Wow. Your dialogue is worse than in the movies. Is this like the time I pretended to be Baron Mayhem and you pretended to be Rico Slade and we had a fight sequence in my ass?”

  “Rico Slade don’t go near other men’s asses. Asses ain’t for nothing but taking shits...and disposing of parking tickets.”

  “No, asses are for being intimate with each other.”

  “Rico Slade ain’t no fag.”

  “That’s right. Rico Slade isn’t a fag. But Chip Johnson is.”

  “I’m getting tired of this ‘Chip’ bullshit. Don’t fuck with me, Mayhem, or I’ll punch you in the face a bunch of fucking times.”

  “Wow, Chip, you’re a lot funnier today than usual. Are you calling because you’ve worked through your obsession with cleanliness and want to get back together?”

  15 - The Midwestern Tourist Does Not Obey Bus Regulations

  The husband stops punching the seat in front of him when he sees Chip talking on his cell phone in front of Weinstein’s Arabic Theatre. “Stop the bus!”

  The bus driver does not stop the bus. He tells the husband it is against the rules.

  The husband gets out of his seat and threatens the driver with an umbrella.

  The bus driver stops the bus. The bus driver is wearing a banana costume. These two things are related to each other. A man who doesn’t put up a fight when his employers make him wear a banana costume is more likely to give in to the demands of an umbrella-wielding tourist.

  16 - Rico Slade XXVI: Walk of Death

  A Central European bodybuilder attacks Rico Slade with a machete. “Hold on,” he says into his cell phone, “I need to take this.”

  Women in bikinis surround them to watch the action. Their heaving breasts escape their confines. The women giggle, jump up and down.

  Rico Slade holds his cell phone in one hand and gives the topless women a thumbs up with the other hand while dropkicking the Central European bodybuilder in the face with his steel-toed, zebra-skinned boots.

  The bodybuilder does not fall. He does not seem to feel pain. All he does is stand there and laugh, sounding like a villain in an 8-bit video game. Then he charges Rico Slade like a rhinoceros and cuts a curl off his pompadour.

  Rico Slade kneels to pick the curl off the floor and stares in horror. “Not cool, dude, not—”

  The bodybuilder kicks him in the face with his Austrian hiking boot.

  Blood pours out of a cut underneath Rico Slade’s left eye. Slade presses a finger against the wound and takes a lick. It tastes like an amalgamation of bacon and Hawaiian Punch. “First blood,” Rico Slade says, “Now you die.”

  17 - The Midwestern Tourist Accidently Kills Himself While Fleeing from His Favorite Hollywood Actor’s Stinkfinger

  The Midwestern tourist did not leave his wife behind on the bus so he could watch Chip Johnson shake his butt at him and make fart noises with his mouth, but this is what he is getting. He has changed his mind about bitch slapping Chip and is trying to hit him in the ass cheek with his umbrella. He keeps missing. Chip laughs after each fart noise he makes with his mouth. A crowd of middle-aged tourists watch with disapproval. Chip sticks his finger up his butt and shoves it in the husband’s face in an attempt to make him smell it. Ordinarily, the actor would be mortified to do this without rubber gloves because of his germaphobia, but this is not an ordinary day in his life. Today, Chip Johnson is not Chip Johnson.

  The tourist does not appreciate the scent of Chip’s fecal-covered finger. He drops his umbrella and runs away.

  Chip picks it up. He giggles maniacally. “Machete! It’s man’s best friend!”

  He chases after the tourist, wielding his new friend, and catches up to him outside a fashion boutique. Again, he wiggles his finger under the nose of his prey.

  The husband makes an unpleasant face and lunges into the street.

  An oncoming tour bus transforms the husband into a human piñata, and organs rain down upon the onlookers.

  You might assume it is the same tour bus that the husband’s wife is riding on, but you would be wrong. That would be too much irony for one fight sequence.

  “Guy sure didn’t want to miss the bus,” Chip says.

  He removes the tourist’s fanny pack from his dead torso and ties it around his head like a headband.

  Chip Johnson now looks like Rambo, but really stupid.

  18 - Harold Schwartzman’s Pieces Begin to Fit

  “OMG!” says a part-time waitress/movie extra/minor pornographic actress as she pounds on the plastic surgeon’s office door. “Dr. Troy! There was blood everywhere! His fanny pack! His fanny pack! The baldy! In sweatpants! Like that guy! You know...Dicko Slate! I need to go up another cup size! I need to go up another cup size RIGHT NOW!”

  Sensing an opportunity for financial security, Harold approaches the screaming hysteric. “You need psychiatric treatment, Miss, not augmentative surgery.” He reaches for her hand. “Come with me. We’ll have a small chat and I’ll fix everything.”

  She hits him over the head with her pocketbook. “Get away from me, you fat fuck! I need a goddamn tit job!”

  19 - Rico Slade XXVII: Driving Safety with a Vengeance

  Rico Slade is in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard, blocking traffic, trying to commandeer a car so he can save the world, waving his new machete, and looking freaking awesome in his new headband. Rico Slade believes his enemies’ possessions become his own upon their death. Rico Slade’s pompadour grows an inch every time it is bathed in blood.

  He shouts, “If you don’t give me your vehicle, the terrorists win,” through car windows, failing to understand why no one complies with his request.

  A police cruiser stops and an obese police officer rolls down his window. He is the fattest police officer Rico Slade has ever seen. Rico Slade wonders how he is able to get inside his car. He probably never leaves his car. The obese police officer must get all his meals from fast food drive-throughs, sleep in the driver’s seat, and take shits in large, empty fried chicken buckets.

  Rico Slade’s daydreams of the cop painfully squatting over a bucket are interrupted by a “What the holy heck are you doing in the middle of the road?”

  Rico Slade runs a diamond-encrusted pick through his pompadour. “Tryin’ to commandeer a vehicle. Need a ride to Baron Mayhem’s fortress so I can save the world by punching him in the face a whole bunch of times.”

  The cop opens his meaty eyes wide in sarcasm. “Oh, Baron Mayhem. We can’t have Baron Mayhem threatening the safety of the world.” He presses a button on the dash to unlock the back door. “Why don’t you hop in and I’ll give you a ride to this fortress?”

  The police academy did not offer Rico Slade sarcasm-training back when he was a new recruit, so he accepts the policeman’s offer. When he opens the door, he gets assaulted by the smell of body odor, intestinal gas, rotting meat, moldy chocolate, urine, and fecal matter.

  This might be a problem for a lesser man, but Rico Slade is a tough guy. And tough guys toughen up when faced with adversity. So he flexes his gag reflex and steps inside.

  20 - Baron Mayhem Calls a Press Conference in His Apartment

  The media has not been receptive to George’s press conference. Out of the numerous magazines, newspapers, and television networks he invited, only one reporter showed up: Arthur from down the hall, representing his junior high school newspaper.

  George—dressed in a shiny, glittery tuxedo—stands on his coffee table, surrounded by four year’s worth of garbage. “Good mor
ning, members of the press. I have assembled you here to divulge important revelations about the life of action star, Chip Johnson.” He removes a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of his jacket, opens it, and reads, “Number 1: Action star, Chip Johnson suffers from male pattern baldness. In the past, he has hidden this fact. But he is no longer ashamed of his beautiful body and its wonderful flaws. Number 2: Action star, Chip Johnson is a homosexual who has been in the closet until this very moment. He now takes delight in revealing his true self to the world. Number 3: Action star, Chip Johnson is currently making his way to this apartment so we can rekindle our intimate relationship. Number 4: Action star, Chip Johnson’s cock tastes like gummy bears.” He licks his lips. “Thank you, members of the press, for coming. We are finished here.”

  21 - Rico Slade XXVIII: Police Station Massacre

  The police cruiser parks in front of a police station. Rico Slade is distraught. He knows the difference between a police station and Baron Mayhem’s fortress. He used to work at this police station before Mayhem framed him for stealing all the money, drugs, and weapons in the evidence room and he had to change his identity and facial features to avoid prison time. “Hey! What’s going on here? This ain’t Mayhem’s place.”

  The obese police officer ignores him, rolls down the window. “Hey, fellas,” he says to a few cops outside. “Mind taking this fruitcake off my hands?”

  An Aryan-looking police officer opens the back door and tries to force Rico Slade’s hands behind his back for handcuffing. The action hero elbows him in the face. The police officer gets angry and calls in for reinforcements on his walkie. Slade tears his throat out. Hundreds of cops exit the police station carrying automatic weapons. They shoot thousands of bullets at Rico Slade, but all miss their mark. He runs up to them with his machete and decapitates them one by one.

  Baron Mayhem sure has a lot of cops on his payroll.

  Rico Slade goes back to the police cruiser, punches through the windshield, removes a grenade from his fanny pack headband, and throws it inside.

  He puts a cigarette between his lips and waits for the explosion.

  22 - Harold Schwartzman Breaks His Confidentiality Agreement

  Harold does not concern himself with ethics. Instead, he using the baby monitor he hid in the plastic surgeon’s office last year to spy on the part-time waitress/movie extra/minor pornographic actress.

  “How big do you want it?” asks the plastic surgeon.

  “I want to go up to an E.”

  “Not a problem. Having another bad day?”

  “Yeah, I saw a guy get killed by a bus. His blood sprayed all over my favorite dress.”

  Harold rushes over to his map of the city. He draws a circle around the movie theatre and a line connecting it to Super Saver Electronics.

  It forms the shape of a mustache.

  23 - The Hollywood Police Department Fails to Take Chip Johnson Seriously

  The police officer whose throat Rico Slade tore out still has a perfectly healthy throat. Rico Slade may believe he tore out the officer’s throat, but he did not. Instead, Chip Johnson punched him really hard in the arm. “Ow!” the officer says, “He gave me a dead arm and it really hurts!”

  The three police officers who are outside point and laugh at him. The obese police chief laughs so hard he almost chokes on a McRib. Chip Johnson is not laughing. He is too busy waving his umbrella around like a machete, throwing imaginary grenades, and making explosion sounds with the back of his throat. The police officers find this hysterical.

  Chip lunges at the officers and surprises each of them with a punch to the arm. They rub their bruises, looking like they are about to cry.

  The police officer who still has a perfectly healthy throat stops his bellyaching and says, “Now you know how it feels!”

  Cops flood out of the station to see what’s going on.

  An Arabic police officer gets too close to Chip. The action star doesn’t like the looks of him. He grabs him and gives him “the special treatment.”

  “The special treatment” is when Chip repeatedly licks his finger and sticks it in a person’s ear.

  “Stop psychologically damaging my men,” says the obese police chief as he reaches for his weapon, but his bloated stomach makes this a difficult endeavor.

  All the cops take out their revolvers and aim them at Chip’s head.

  “Nobody shoot,” he says, holding a saliva-covered finger above the Arabic police officer’s ear, “or I’ll rip out this terrorist’s throat.”

  The cops are perplexed. Chip takes advantage of this by dragging his “hostage” inside the station.

  “Hey! Isn’t that the guy who plays Rico Slade?” a skinny police officer says.

  “Nah,” says the obese police chief, “just a bald nut job who’s seen too many of his movies.”

  24 - Harold Schwartzman Eats Lunch

  The Universal is a kid’s theme restaurant devoted to outer space. All the waiters are dressed like astronauts while the waitresses are in cute green alien costumes. Dim light trickles through the room, providing two things: enough illumination so the customers won’t bump into things and enough darkness to achieve the effect of having a glow-in-the-dark solar system for a ceiling.

  Harold thinks The Universal is incredibly lame. The pediatrician thinks it’s the greatest restaurant on Earth. Harold is wary of grown men who think The Universal is the greatest restaurant on Earth. He thinks they are pedophiles. The pediatrician’s career choice is starting to make a lot of sense to him.

  Between each bite of his kid’s meal spacedog, the pediatrician gawks at a cute redheaded girl with pigtails.

  Harold wonders if he should get a policeman. Why are there so many policemen in here anyway? There seem to be more policemen than children. They are really enjoying themselves. Are all the policemen in Hollywood sexually attracted to children?

  Harold does not know who to trust. He decides to drop it.

  The psychologist’s space steak is undercooked. He is still chewing on his first bite. Giving up, he spits it onto his plate, and the pediatrician asks him, “So, how’s the wife?”

  “She’s good. No...she’s terrible. Driving me crazy. I think she’s going to leave me if I don’t buy her more bling. But I can’t afford it.”

  “Hah, everyone’s leaving you these days. But I say good riddance. What is she, forty...”

  “Forty-eight.”

  “Yes, forty-eight. Too old. You’re a mental health professional and deserve a younger woman. Trade her in for a newer model.”

  A police officer slams through the door. “Hostage situation at the downtown station! The guy looks just like Rico Slade, but bald and with tacky clothes.”

  “Pardon me, I need to leave,” Harold says, then he whips out a razor and gives himself a quick shave on his way out the door.

  25 - Rico Slade XXIX: Assault on Precinct 14

  What the crap? Where is Rico Slade’s nu metal? Now inside the station, he executes the terrorist by tearing out his eyeballs and leaving him to a slow death so he can rampage through the halls to the accompaniment of a duet between screams and silence. But that’s not right. The soundtrack to his mayhem should be a pulse-pounding anthem of destruction from one of today’s most commercially viable practitioners of pure metal. How unsettling. He feels an urge to weep. Fights it off. Rico Slade has never experienced the sensation of tears falling down his cheeks. Crying is for little girls. Little girls and his enemies after he rips out their throats. Ever heard a grown man cry without a throat? It is almost as unsettling as a killing rampage without nu metal, but Rico Slade is used to it by now.

  A police dog attacks him in the reception area. Rico Slade rips its throat out. It whimpers, and he loses the urge to weep. The dog’s sadness placates his grief.

  Rico Slade lives vicariously through his enemies.

  “Hi, can I help you with anything?” asks a kindly old desk cop.

  Rico Slade swings the dead dog over his sho
ulder. “Yeah, tell Baron Mayhem to give me back my tunes or I’m gonna kill this dog.”

  “Sir, the dog is already dead.”

  The phone rings, and the desk cop lifts the receiver to his ear. “Yes, hello.” He pauses, holds the phone out to Rico Slade, says, “It’s for you.” While with the other hand, he points an oversized Magnum at Rico Slade and lets off a crapload of shots.

  Rico Slade dodges the bullets by engaging in a series of cartwheels, backflips, and somersaults. It’s like he’s trying out for a place on the U.S. gymnastics team, but instead of winning an opportunity to wear a leotard, he wins the privilege of maintaining a heartbeat.

  The bullets and the gymnastics display continue for the next twenty minutes, until Rico Slade manages to tumble over to the desk, knock the gun out of the cop’s hand, and puts him in a headlock. He grabs the telephone receiver, says, “Hello.”

  He hears the voice of the obese police chief. “Listen, Slade,” says Baron Mayhem’s new number one henchman, “There’s nothing you can do to stop my boss from inventing a bomb that will destroy the Earth while leaving its currency intact and ripe for the pickings. But still, we don’t want anyone else to get hurt, so we’re wondering if you have a list of demands?”

  “I just want my tunes back.”

  The desk cop groans from the force of the headlock.