Hi, Stevehen Warren here. Are you having trouble with coming to terms with the recently dead? Does the idea of Armageddon bring you down? Well, you might want to start practicing the art of catching bullets with the back of your head because we're all going to die. Let's see how it's going to work. See this virus developed by the Germans; they make wicked good killing diseases, attacks the brain stem of the recently dead infusing them with the power of fifteen men. The body leaps to life, devouring all human flesh in the immediate area. Wait, there's more. The disease replicates body trauma and, using a touch of mysticism, leads to a screaming horde of the undead. Billie Mays isn't dead, he's resting.
|Hi! Billie Mays here, plotting on how I'm going to scare the crap out of you.|
Do we honestly think anything could kill Billie Mays? Well, maybe cocaine, a large amount of cocaine equal to Scarface levels. Short of that, I envisioned a world of Twinkies and Billie Mays standing in some post-apocalyptic hell, selling toxic waste doubling at Orange Glo. Throwing this idea out there, but maybe this is all a publicity stunt. Seriously, would any of us be surprised if, at his funeral, a slightly sleep deprived Billie Mays cut through his own coffin with a Dual Saw.
|Animal Man flying with a whale has everything to do with Billie Mays.|
Billie Mays made you excited to buy things. In a nutshell, that was his skill, his mutant power, if you will. You wanted to please the man, fill his coffer like some medieval king bent on recapturing the Holy Land. What separated him from your usual brand of pitchman was his use of actual standards when it came to products. It had to work. It had to do something so fucking spectacular that your sperm would stop and wonder if it were good enough to create a child for his world. He seemed like a nice guy, I mean who wouldn't want to grab a beer with the guy? Granted, he would likely show off some bottle opener that would make your scrotum retract into your body with joy, but that was part of the elation of the man. On the vast Internet, there is a video of him ordering McDonalds. Head over to your respected search engine and check it out (ED NOTE: No need, I did the legwork for you!). It will make you get some Sausage Burritos and Diet Coke, I swear. It will also fester the desire to strip naked for the man, to have him clean your clothes.
Try Might Putty, people, try it!
Your Musical Moment Provided By Stina Nordenstam Little star, so you had to go. You must have wanted him to know. You must have wanted the world to know, poor little thing. Now they know.
If you have a movie, picture, website, friend, game, book, fan fiction, or toilet you would like me to see, or crap all over, please inform your friendly webmaster and include your name and the name of the crappee. The numbers are open and we have trained professionals waiting to receive your call.