The Final Adventure of
May 27th, 1977© --- The sun was shining on this military afternoon as Kevin #3 embarked on his last heroic quest...
After disposing of The Teflon Earwig, Kevin #3 received a distressing phone call from his former colleague, Toupee Face. Word had it that the late Roscor Fornicator had left an heir to his evil empire after all. But before I name that heir, let me give you a brief history of Roscor Fornicator and his legacy.
Back in the day, Roscor Fornicator and his evil ally, Nazi Face, created the Cystic Fibrosis Leisure Suit. The suit found vast popularity at ski lodges where its wearers believed it to be quite fashionable, even though it ultimately left them suffering from Cystic Fibrosis - a congenital disease of the mucous glands throughout the body resulting in disorders of the pancreas and lungs. No one is sure why Roscor and Nazi developed such dastardly apparel, but friends of the two have claimed they overheard it was merely a gag gift item gone wrong. But now the days of Roscor and his ilk are over. Kevin #3 and his Squadron Of Nice Folks put an end to their reign of terror - or had they? According to Toupee Face's phone call, a new player was on the scene... 8 Leg Pleaser!
Kevin #3 arranged to meet Toupee Face at the inaugural game of the
NAACP Ice Hockey League, just in case either of their accommodations
had been bugged.
Time Warp --- 10 years later, The Artist Formally Popular As
Prince is playing on the transistor radio held in the palm of The Florida
Specialist's hand. At this point, narrational duties get passed along
to Mr. Specialist. This is done because he just happened to be relating
this section of the story to a buddy of his, so I'm gonna take a little
rest and let him talk a bit.
Time Warp --- 1993.
In a bright yellow room, a groggy, dizzy, disheveled Kevin #3 ate his
creamed corn as usual, but not really. For on this day his consciousness
finally won the 16 year battle against whatever evil spell 8 Leg Pleaser
had cursed him with. Memories flooded his brain like a river with too
much water would flood things. The Florida Specialist's treachery, the
explosion... If Kevin #3 had not possessed his secret Kevin #3 power,
he would have ended up like poor Toupee Face. The double-cross by The
Florida Specialist wasn't hard to swallow. Mercenaries of his kind are
loyal to whomever pays the highest price in instant lottery tickets.
Looks like 8 Leg Pleaser got lucky.
Kevin #3 pressed his fingers to his temples and summoned all of Kevin #3 power. Sensing that Mosh Pit '93 had something to do with the event on the television set, Kevin #3 focused his energy there (well not on the TV itself, but on the actual location of the event which Kevin #3 sensed through the satellite transmission beams or something*). Do Not Trust Herbert, noticing a change in momentum of the storyline, ran over to Kevin #3 to offer moral support.
Location Warp --- Dick Clark's Grunge-A-Thon, where a bunch of bare-chested, highly adrenalized, teenage males were about to make the conscious decision to start a mosh pit. Pearl Jam was about to begin the second song of their set (a ska version of 'alive') when a slight tremor passed through the earth. Thousands of miles away, Kevin #3 was bleeding from all of his orifices thanks to his tremendous effort. The tremor continued at the grunge concert, it was mild - few people noticed it, but it was enough to send an already teetering microphone stand crashing to the ground. The result was a second or two of annoying feedback that completely broke the mood of the would-be moshers.
-Jump back to 8 Leg Pleaser's Lair-
Epilogue --- To date, 8 Leg Pleaser has yet to attempt any more evil. The Legislature had passed New And Improved Cystic Fibrosis Leisure Suits into legality at the same time Michigan was legalized, that was back in '82 for all you youngsters. So, from the profits of that and the rights to the Roscor Fornicator biography, as well as the Nazi Face Theme Park, 8 Leg Pleaser is a wealthy and happy individual, despite the Mosh Pit '93 failure.
On the other hand, Kevin #3 has sunk into virtual obscurity. Rumor has it that he still has a taste for creamed corn from his captive years and he still bleeds from all of his orifices. I heard that The Squadron Of Nice Folks offered him a job in their Munich branch, but he was just too proud.
Anyway, all's well that ends well, so just pretend that the story ended with Kevin #3 strutting triumphantly out of the bright yellow 8 Leg Pleaser lair, and off into a sunset or something, happily ever after. Thank you and good night.