Was this a clumsy attempt on Jon’s part to shoehorn Murph and Newton into the story, for pretty much no reason? I’m thinking it was. Nevertheless, when they turned up on my doorstep (Don’t ask how Don’t ask how Don’t ask how), I immediately knew something had gone horrendously awry – and I sprang into action! Piling into the company truck with Artie and the pets, we made tracks for Big Bob’s House of Discounts, desperately hoping – thanks to Jon’s complete lack of understanding of how long a trash compactor would actually take to smush our friends – that we would arrive in time!
I recognised that foul stench anywhere! No, really, I’m not just making a Star Wars reference here…. Big Bob really does not smell that fragrant. Rumor has it his lack of regular bathing is not merely due to penny-pinching, but a carefully calculated ploy to ensure his minions will carry out any order (no matter how illogical or demeaning) just so they don’t have to stand anywhere near him!
…. Ooooor maybe I’m just being bitter. Anyway, there was a showdown to take care of:
Stupid cheap bootleg lightsabres. Still, at least Big Bob was as poor a card player as he was a swordsman, and as sore a loser as he was…. um…. an actual loser! Bam! Unfortunately, he also had a mean right hook, which meant the tide of battle shifted yet again….
In the annals of Tony’s Comic Utopia, rarely had such a decisive victory been seized from the jaws of defeat, and even more rarely had Big Bob’s corporate empire been dealt such a crushing blow! Well, for about five seconds, anyway. His high-priced lawyers (the one thing he’s NOT stingy about, surprise, surprise) got him sprung on a technicality, and within the week, he was back to his wheeling-and-dealing ways…. having learned absolutely nothing about not underestimating the Little Guy. Grrrmph. I got my Star Wars stuff back, though, Bob! And Gene bought most of it! You can’t make that unhappen, can you?! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!
….Okay, okay, Breathe.
TO BE CONTINUED….